Missing those Christmas tunes

I've had Christmases abroad but until we moved to Bosnia I had never spent a Christmas in a country which doesn't really celebrate Christmas*. Christmas Day is a normal working day here and I am finding it odd. I hadn't realised how ingrained into my psyche Christmas is and to be somewhere where Christmas doesn't really feature is unsettling. There aren't really any cheesy Christmas movies on TV. That special sort of Christmas smell, the gingery, cinammony, fir tree smell is lacking. I'm missing Christmas carols - hell, I'm even missing Slade and Band Aid.

I'm finding this most difficult around the boys. We may live in Bosnia, but they are English and Christmas is a huge part of their culture. They need to grow up learning about the nativity, getting excited about presents, enjoying the build up, the parties, the preparation and the anticipation of it all. There are no Christmas activities at their nursery, no nativity play, no shepherd's in tea towels, no Mary forgetting her lines and dropping Baby Jesus.

So we're trying to do it alone. They have advent calenders which are eagerly opened every morning. We put up a tree at the weekend, complete with decorated baubles and gaudy lights (note to self: never, ever trust the husband to buy the Christmas lights again - he may have had instructions for simple white ones that don't do all that flashing, but he disregarded it completely and with an evident enjoyment, before conceding somewhat later that night that all the flashing is giving him a headache). We're on a baking binge to try and get that special Christmas smell going throughout the house; this afternoons efforts will be gingerbread men, (but without the golden syrup, hoping honey will prove to be an adequate substitute). Tinsel is all over the place. I've got the radio tuned in to British radio stations to get carols and Christmas songs into their consciousness. We talk a bit about Baby Jesus's birthday, but to be honest they are more interested in Father Christmas.

We had Christmas in Bosnia last year, and loved it, but this year we are driving to Switzerland for the festive season. I'm very much looking forward to it. We will be seeing lots of family, eating food that we don't normally have access to and most importantly for me, having a whole country also engaging in Christmas festivities. I'm quite tired of doing all the Christmas atmosphere myself.

Having been the outsider for a few years, the one trying to celebrate a festival which no one else is really, I have far more empathy for those who are also find themselves in a minority. It is often wonderful, and the experience that we are having of living in a different culture are always fascinating, but sometimes, it is nice to be in sync with the rest of the country.


*this being Bosnia, obviously it is complicated. The Catholic Bosnian Croats celebrate Christmas, but they are concentrated in the south and west of the country. Tuzla is in the Northeast and although there are a some Croats here, it is predominantly Muslim and Serb. The Muslims celebrated Bajram earlier this month, and the Serbs follow the Orthodox calender, celebrating Christmas on January 7th. It isn't totally unChristmassy here; there are Christmas decorations around, the local supermarket Bingo has some really beautiful wooden ones that I am tempted to buy up for keepsakes and there are lights up in the streets but the sense of momentum towards Christmas so obvious in the UK is absent.

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Obviously being in Bosnia we are also missing the panto season. Oh yes we are! This sadly means that we can't sign up for the Great Panto Review 2009 to help raise funds for NACCPO - the National Alliance of Childhood Cancer Parents Organisations who work to support children and young adults with cancer. But I would recommend anyone in the UK to check out the reviews, think about going to see one, and to donate if they can to this small organisation that is entirely dependent upon funds that they raise for its work.

Dear So and So, Bosnian Version: Part IV

The Brits household is off on holiday this week, sunning itself on the Croatian coastline. At least that is the plan. The forecast is for rain and a bit of a cold snap making it a rather less attractive proposition than England.

Sadly this means that we will miss Bajram, the Bosnian version of Eid which marks the end of Ramadan. The whole town is a flutter of talk about which parties shall be attended, and who will be where. I've been to some of these Bajram parties (in a pre-children era) and they are terrific. Everyone joins in, Muslim or not and there is an awful lot of dancing and beer and food and all things good.

Anyway, until you get your real-life postcard which given the ongoing British postal strike means probably never, here are some of the virtual versions, sent from Bosnia.



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Dear fellow expats in Tuzla currently on holiday in the States (you know who you are),


When are you coming back? We miss you! I'm not sure we have forgiven you yet for abandoning us all summer. And can you bring peanut butter with you?

Hugs and kisses to you both,

Fraught Mummy

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Dear Random Imam,

After the Bosnian Delights and the perfume, I must also thank you for the vast quantities of plums that you have taken to leaving by our front door. Would you be very offended if I was to make them into Plum Vodka?

Yours, hic, oops, silly giggle,

FM

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Dear Boys,

Which bit of 'Don't Do That' do you not understand?

Your ever loving but getting increasingly disciplinarian as it is becoming more obvious that noone in this household listens to a word I say mother xx

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Dear Bosnian Pedestrians,

Given that you are the bottom of the pile when it comes to priority of road users, how is it that you feel so confident in crossing the road without looking to see if there are any vehicles coming?

Seriously wondering how any of you are still alive,

FM

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Dear Dave,

I do appreciate you looking after the boys when I am out and about. Really I do. But, given that you take control of them at about 5.30 which isn't that long before they go to bed and during that time they are having supper, a bath and watching a bit of TV, how is it possible that the house gets so totally and utterly trashed?

Your ever grateful, but curious wife x

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Dear Bakers, all bakers, any bakers,

Please don't stop making Lepina just because it is the end of Ramadan. I know that you can get it out of season, but it just isn't the same without those yummy black bits on the top. I don't think I can wait for next year to get my lepina fix!

Yours, scoffing any lepina I can find in preparation for the great lepina fast about to begin,
FM x

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Dear Boys,

Which part of 'you will hurt yourself' do you not understand?

Your exasperated mother who is running out of plasters and sympathy for preventable ouch moments. xxxx

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Dear Outside Dog,

We are ok for you to make a camp for yourself on our porch as you are, for a stray dog, remarkably well behaved (and now fully deticked and delurgyed). We are happy to keep on giving you food. But if you keep going into our bins and dumping the contents all over the garden we may have to rethink the above.

Don't say you weren't warned,

FM

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Dear favourite bakers,

Please reopen soon. You are the only ones that I can rely on to bake zeljanica pita (spinach pie with a sort of feta like cheese in) which is my absolute favourite of all time ever.

Pretty please?

FM

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Dear Bosnian Car Importers and Banks,

How difficult can it be? Seriously.

Starting to get quite wound up at how long (and how expensive) a relatively simple and straightforward transaction can be made into a paper marathon, with no end in sight.

Yours, still driving our English registered car round Tuzla,

FM

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Dear Boys,

Which part of 'Stop Climbing Onto The Windowsill, Opening The Window And Throwing Your Toys Out!' do you not understand?

Just understand this: It is your fault if your toys break or get lost,

Mummy x

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Dear Next Door Neighbour,

The boys are 2 and 4. They will make a lot of noise when they are in the garden. They tend to this during the afternoon, usually around 4pm. This is a whole lot better than your turbo folk music blasting out late at night. So quit complaining and shut your window if you don't want to hear them.

Yours, with a you got a problem with that? attitude,

FM

PS - your white suit and shoes they you so love? Not a good look.

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Dear Bosnian teenage boys,

Scooting around with your helmet draped over your handlebars doesn't look cool. We know that your mother made you take your helmet. Why don't you just wear it? You never know, it might actually save your life.

Yours,

FM

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Dear Boys,

You are never to buy yourself a scooter. Or motorbike. And you are ALWAYS to wear your helmets, especially when I make you take them with you.

It's because I love you,

Hugging and kissing you and holding you tight, and never ever letting you buy a motorbike (although you will pay about as much attention to that statement as you do to all my other instructions - sigh).

Mummy

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Dear Blogger,

What is this thing with the formatting? If I want lots of spaces between my lines, I'll put them there myself.

Fed up with having to reformat my posts for no good reason,

FM
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As ever, I could go on. And on and on. But, that is enough for now. There are bags to be packed, packed lunches to be made and armbands to be found. Have a great week.

If you fancy a writing a Dear So and So post of your own, make sure to head over to Kat's at 3 Bedroom Bungalow and sign up so other fans of the genre can read you too.

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PS - for those that haven't already spotted it, the latest Best of British Mummy Bloggers carnival is up: Head on over to New Mummy to read 42 posts covering the full range of parenting moments.