some "merry" Christmas thoughts

It's not even the end of the world day, or it already passed without no one noticing it, but today looks like it.

Some were saying the world would be in darkness, well I can say that in this part of the world, we already live in darkness except for the grayish milky light we get for a few hours a day around noon. 

I'd rather join the imaginary Christmas some friends have made up for us hybrids - the one of cobras rattling merry carols on well known Moroccan Christmas markets. 

Just for you to know, we hybrids didn't only go to school on camels in Casablanca but we also had harnessed cobra-teams when we needed a swift ride across the desert. And of course , our pets were no dogs or cats , they were baby cobras ... 

Speaking about these lovely animals, I couldn't forget to mention this friend who refuses to eat bananas because, as everyone knows, snakes , especially the highly venomous ones, have a perverted habit of biting the end of bananas on their trees... Well if you're fond of bananas... think about it. Some people may have lots of venom coming out of their mouth because they ate too many bananas? 

Yes ... I just realized it looks like nighttime already (it is 14:50 pm CET) because the end of the world has already started on the other side of the planet. Strangely enough, my friends based in Australia are now still blabbing on Facebook and I have to admit I am afraid of zombies, even if there is a computer between us. 

The good is that the end of the world could save us from Christmas hemorrhaging . 

I declared a war on this holiday the day I accidentally (well accidentally,  I was teaching some salsa steps to a former boxer) fell on the corner of a book shelf , and my head bled like a slaughtered pig.  The worst is that afterwards, with a hole in my head, I still had to fight my mother and the boxer to avoid being taken to hospital for stitches. I had beautiful long hair, and really couldn't stand the idea of having a large spot shaved on my head  to allow the sewing. No need to say I won the fight. 

Since then, I decided  to stay away from Christmas. It is very annoying, however, as it keeps on sticking to me wherever I go (except in Morocco). You may not be interested in Christmas but Christmas is interested in you. 

I did keep on dancing salsa though, and had my head cracked another time a few years years later. 

Cherchez l'erreur... *en francais dans le texte.

this year's angel hopes to upgrade into next year's devil

She gave me a call and asked if I could be the angel... I didn't really like the idea of personifying the angel, since I thought the devil's part was a much funnier one to play, but when she subtly added that her mother, who had just arrived from Vietnam, would be cooking that evening, I was ready to agree with anything on earth just to be there.

In the Czech republic, Saint Nicolas' day is nearly as important as Christmas. Every year, on December 5th, you will meet loads of Saints walking around the streets with angels and devils, and children in most households expect, with fear and respect, the arrival of the trio to their homes. I had never received the visit of the noble (yet scary) guests in my childhood, and now for the first time, I had the opportunity to be part of the show.
She had invited me to a colorful gathering.When I arrived, first thing I saw was the kitchen table covered with Mummy's delicious Vietnamese specialties. There was many kids running around, some I knew, some not, just as their parents. I quickly noticed that most couples were mixed ones - Czechs with partners from four different continents. Lovely, I felt totally in my element.
I was a bit worried about my premiere since the angel's part was not very clear to me (Now I know: carry the sweets , give them away, and sermonize the devil if too scary for the kids - yeah, it's not the funniest part in fact), but I got some food and some wine, met my fellow companions, future devil and St Nicolas to be, and felt instantly much better.
The angel's part doesn't go with me was I saying... I look more like a devil... but nothing to be done, I had to put the blond wig on, the white dress, the  wings and the halo, and there were we going.. The devil had a beautiful costume made of real black fur with a big tail on it and a mask with red horns, a chain around the hips and a big gunny bag  with something that looked like a kids hand hanging out... I was an angel that was turning green of envy!
Anyway, all three dressed up, here we were knocking at the door. The kids were all gathered on one place, they were about 10, the two little ones in the arms of their parents. Oh my, their face expressions when we entered were priceless! It was a mixture of astonishment, apprehension or fear, and respect. Saint Nicolas was solemnly reading from the parents list, asking the kids, one by one,  about (not) ordering their rooms, (not) eating veggies,  playing (too much) on the computer, (not) listening to their parents.... Some kids were admitting, some were denying, but what was sure if that they all feared the devil - while poor devil was a bit censored for not willing to traumatize the little ones who had started to sob as we made our grand entree- . And me, the nice one, gently smiling or retaining hysterical laughter, avoiding direct eye contact with the kids who knew me well, I was dying to scare them, for I was almost bothered by their intense way of looking at us, sometimes scared, sometimes inquisitive ...
Saint Nicolas was obviously recognized by his daughter who was claiming not to be afraid and when asked to recite a poem said a decided "NO". She ended up doing it though to be granted the sweets.
We were still laughing as we left the apartment, as we were getting back into our civil clothes, as we smoked a cigarette on the balcony and we were still laughing as we came back to the party.
It was a really good evening. And as I was still worried that some children could have recognized me, the older son of my friend passed by, gave me a significant look and said : "I know you were playing the devil!" . 
And I thought that after all, their idea of making precisely an angel out of me  was most certainly the best way not to have me recognized, for even  kids automatically relate me with hell!
Still, for  next year I decided, I want to be in the devil's skin.
So children should better be good from now on...