Sunday night’s entertainment began with a couple of musical interludes and then segued right into a dramatic re-enactment of the ever-popular Rudolph saga. My twins sported small, festive foam reindeer antlers and pranced around in what they apparently thought was a very reindeer-like fashion. I guess those reindeer really know how to move. Who knew? Anyway, they, along with a couple of supplementary animals (not quite 8, but enough to give a good effect) danced around , while a much smaller boy had been recruited for the title role. Severin took on the part of Santa, complete with a pretty good costume. We had stuffed a pillow under the coat at rehearsal, but it had given a distressingly square form to Santa’s traditional jolly paunch. So, I got out the Xmas pageant costume box and found the oval chunk of foam that annually has served as Saint Mary’s expectant contours. Sev complained, of course. Not only did he have to be in a “humiliating” show with smaller children and perform it in front of all his friends, but now he was a… pregnant Santa! Oh, the shame of it. We all hastened to assure him that on him the foam block was very masculine, muy macho and as testosterone-laden as all-getout. And it was true. Nobody looks at a Santa in full regalia and thinks “Wow. A miracle of reproductive science. How many months along?” We somehow convinced him and , good sport that he is, he threw himself into the role. As the strains of Harry Connick jr played, he smiled genially, encouraging the small freakish deer's self-esteem with kindly gestures and gentle pats on the back. JP filmed it all, but I am unsure how it turned out, as technology is not his friend.
Soon after, Valentine and I sang “Lo, How a Rose Ere Blooming”, a lovely old carol. I had asked a friend to come sing the alto part for us, but she came down with a bad cold this week, leaving us with two treble voices. But we dressed it up with a couple of solo bits and got through in good form.
Afterwards there were snacks and “”fellowship. I was worried about this last, as putting JP in a room with a bunch of protestant missionaries is never predictable, as he has no diplomatic skills to speak of. When someone is being an intolerant psychopath, I can just back away gradually and hide behind a shrub until they go away. JP is more likely to drive right in: “So. Intolerant psychopath, are you? How stupid.” He is the least hypocritical person I know, but you have to watch him closely in public. Can be awkward. Luckily, a Swiss friend was there. She’s a missionary, but very open-minded, as the best of them are, and was happy to debate with JP for a while.

The kids had yesterday off school. Most of the country was closed down, in fact, as it was the national holiday of the republic of Burkina Faso. The kids invited some pals over, so there were seven of them to keep busy. I mixed up a mega-batch of salt dough and had them make Christmas ornaments and whathaveyou. Mallory got ambitious and made her own crèche figures. She went heavy on the farm animals. In fact, she made so many that we had trouble stuffing Mary and Joseph into the stable with them.

The rest of the wedding story should appear soon, with any luck. I won't have much time to write today, though. I have to figure out what snacks to serve a group of 30 Christmas carolers due at my house at 6pm tonight. This is not the simple task it would be else where in the world. For example, if I want chocolate chip cookies for the event, I have to go downtown to a special shop, buy chocolate bars, take them home and chop them up. And on the way I'll have to remember to stop at the pharmacy to buy baking soda. They don't sell it in food shops. How's that for strange?

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