There are moments in life that you do not expect. They just happen. They hurt themselves in slow motion at a ran, press a short fist into the pit of the stomach, then in the face. As a farewell, they squeeze the little heart and then they cut off. Crumble and leave you with a crappy feeling.
In Nizwa I had such a moment. Just as Bolle was pleased to have discovered the Lu Lu Hypermarket (sic!), I fall into shock shortly after entering the beautiful shopping world. Because in addition to all the things you can imagine, there is something that I certainly did not expect. It starts with a whole army of Christmas trees, which I suddenly face directly behind the entrance. While I am still puzzling my head as they go on, I soon find the next evil. A few courses further pile up different types of Christmas cookies. The coronation I find in the refrigerator: Christmas Cakes with thick frosting, reindeer and little Santa Claus on top.
Suddenly I have a lump in my throat, I have to stop a little tears and bring the rising homesickness under control. I love Christmas. I correct: I love the idea of Christmas and one or the other aspect of this idea that actually takes place in reality, not just in my head. So, now it's out. In addition, I have never been separated from Christmas. Never! And I almost succeeded in ousting it all, but Lu Lu thwarted Lu. To be separated from something, to get it rubbed under my nose again - that was too much for me at the moment.
I creep around the shelves for a while, wondering if I should invest some rial in the feeling of Christmas, but then let it stay. It just would not be the same. After all, that's not what it's all about. Christmas trees, sweets and gifts abound. In fact, it is much more about the time you have with your family or friends. An occasion in the year, where you get together and spend a few pleasant hours together. I can console myself because I know I'll catch up on it in January and that helps me regain my composure. The parents come for sure also alone clearly in the coziness at home. At least I hope so.
We definitely have an exciting and very different Christmas day and we are not completely alone in the evening, but spend it with our friends on time. Otherwise, Christmas accompanies me on almost all other stages of our journey. Even in the desert camp, I am confronted with one of these trees. A sad copy with a purple-blinking string of lights that stands unnoticed in any corner. At the hotel in Sur, American Christmas music is dangling all day and at Al Bustan Palace - I think that's the most expensive hotel in Oman - the tree is so big that it does not even fit the damn picture. But I did not care.
And New Year's Eve? Luckily, that does not interest me any further, so it's not bad to just go to bed. Even though there's a party going on somewhere nearby in our small, sleepy fishing village. That can not be ignored. The fat bass hums, accompanied by laughter and happy chatter, through the evening, to our house, then over the wall and make it comfortable next to us in the garden. My foot starts to rock uncontrollably and there is not much left to get up and walk over there. Over to a celebration of which I do not know who and why.
What would happen? After all that I have experienced in Oman in the last few days, nobody would reject us. It is more likely that within 3 seconds we will be surrounded by the party guests in the middle of the dance floor. We do not go because we do not want to invite ourselves. The next evening we learn that it was or still is an Indian wedding because the party continues. Two more days and nights. Approximately.