Christmas In Doha

This overseas thing has its challenges. I discovered how sad holidays living overseas can be, and I'm not necessarily talking about me being homesick (it's hard not to miss my people and city, but I really, really don't miss the celebration of Christmas in particular back home; watching it on Facebook makes me thankful that the distance enables me to avoid most of the elements I've come to reject).

A feeling starts to permeate the environment, early in the season, of people who have to figure out vacation plans to feel like they are living a life separate from what they left home to do. Many (like me) cant afford to go back home or choose not to because we'll get taxed on our income over a certain amount of days accumulated in a year back in the U.S. (So don't expect to see us on U.S. soil much at all until 2014, maybe.)
Some will spend their first year not being able to go back to the war-torn country they left to come here (some of the Syrians and Lebanese). Some just wanted to leave here, so they went anywhere. Because it was somewhere. Some stayed here. Very few, but some. And some clustered together and created a type of family unit for the holidays. We all did that at the beginning of the season, sort of as a way to tell each other "We have each other." Then we all tried to get the heck outta here.

My wife and I are probably the last here that have plans to go elsewhere. We didn't run out and I'm glad because I needed the time to not feel like a traveler, or a worker. I keep thinking of this Jamaican mom, who is here only with her young son. Just them two, in a pretty empty building. On Christmas. In Doha, Qatar. We make what we feel are the best decisions, and that doesn't mean they'll feel like they're the best decisions all of the time.
You know, I don't celebrate Christmas. My wife still likes the odd decoration, or to give a gift to a kid or something. But for the most part, we don't participate. That doesn't mean I don't feel the season. Well, there's social networking, of course. There's over two decades of never questioning...anything, especially the meaning of holidays in our society. And even though its 80 degrees here in a Muslim country (and you'd be surprised how much Christmas cheer is here; there is a push to accommodate the ex-pats during the holiday season, and everyone wishes you a Merry Christmas - I'm like, "Y'all are more into this than I am!").

The season from Thanksgiving to New Years has traditionally felt like the season to get off track. Eating that throws off health habits, spending that creates financial concerns, family gatherings that can be unpredictable, reflections on goals that may/not have been achieved the previous year, resolutions that begin another cycle of questionable habits. I find myself choosing how much to act like I'm into it all because of those around me. But I usually just want the coupla months to pass so we all can go back to normal.

I'm gonna be in Colombo, Sri Lanka, which once sounded extremely exotic but now just sounds like a cool, exciting place to visit, similar to Philly or the Carolina coast. The difference is that the culture will be very unfamiliar, but I know a good handful of Sri Lankans, and with the way my world has shrunk, not much seems too "out there" anymore. Guess that's why I've been visualising Felix Baumgartner's jump so much recently. Or wanting to research what internal thought processes, and external variables lead us to new places in our mind. Because, as much as physical travel can be exciting (and I haven't done a whole lot), at this point in my life the intrigue only extends as far as it can facilitate my internal journey. If my next trip doesn't take me to the edge of the atmosphere (forget inner-earth travel - I ain't with deep sea exploration, caves, or any other internal earth trips, haha), it must take me to the edge of my consciousness.

Anyway, I'm gonna continue watching the Knicks (11pm is the earliest I've ever caught a game - live stream of course) and I'm gonna eat my last Magnum ice cream. Yum.