Secret Santa
Trip Start
Sep 08, 2006
1
23
24
Trip End
??? ??, 2007
Banjul,
Gambia
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Just before I left to go to the UK I had a Christmas party. I like Christmas. Scratch that, I LOVE Christmas. I think it's a combination of the glitter, singing and mulled wine. Last year, my tree only came down in July because I moved house and that's around the same time I started humming carols. My friends don't quite understand the obsession, but are tactfully supportive, possibly in the quiet hope that the enthusiasm will eventually blow itself out.
Gambians mostly don't celebrate the event of Christmas itself, but it is still a national holiday and many will use the opportunity to drop in on their bible-bashing friends. As I wasn't going to be in The Gambia for the big day itself, I wanted to organize an event beforehand that all my friends, Gambian and non could come to
preparations (with a tiara)
. This wasn't as easy as it sounds. Programmes I've been to here rarely seem to combine a genuine mix of the two. There are varied reasons for this perhaps, but one of the key causes is alcohol. As a rule (although there are obviously exceptions), Gambians do not drink. For a start it's prohibited by their religion. As one friend explained it to me: "We have to behave as if we are to be audited. God will be very angry with me if when I meet him he asks me 'where is your liver?' and I have to tell him 'I left it for beer'". Fair point I thought. I am endlessly impressed every time I go to a Gambian programme and see the sort of merriment and epileptic-style dancing I would normally associate with Freshers Week, and yet everyone is stone-cold sober. Where's the security of being able to deny everything/claim memory-loss afterwards? For most Gambians, the idea that it's necessary to drink large quantities of a poison (that damages a person's ability to walk, talk and self-assess singing ability, not to mention the crippling next-day headache) in order to enjoy oneself is rather perplexing. Some of them have told me that this kind of drunkenness has put them going off to Toubab events altogether.
So we were determined that this event was going to be a Proper Christmas Party
realistic artwork
. And it was. We had decorations, mince pies, presents, a tree, carols, even a recitation of "Twas the Night Before Xmas". A friend of mine offered to play Santa and we located a suit for him. He's not unattractive this boy, and thanks to a complete coincidence, every woman in the house happened to have business in the bedroom when he was changing into it. There was almost a scrum when he asked the crowd who wanted to sit on his knee. Some of the children were terrified of Santa. They had never heard of the man and resented being forced to go anywhere near this strange toubab. On the other hand they each wanted a present and you could see the internal dilemma raging inside their heads as they eyed up the pile of gifts being guarded by the guy with the weird suit and bizarre facial hair. Eventually greed won through. But then I guess that's what Christmas is all about.
