Double the Christmas

Middle East trip brings new look at the holiday

Looking back over the old year just passed, I realize that in 2023 I was fortunate to have celebrated Christmas twice — recently, of course, on Dec. 25 — but in early January of last year as well when I was in Cairo.

I stopped in that ancient city on my way to Tel Aviv for a Holy Land tour sponsored by my Bentonville church. Having previously determined there was little chance again in my life (getting shorter with the arrival of each new year) that I would ever again be so close to Africa, I opted for the complimentary layover on the way to Israel. Now I can assert with certainty that I have visited every inhabitable continent except Australia, which has now risen to the top of the bucket list.

To my surprise, when I arrived in Cairo I encountered the predominantly Muslim city decked out for Christmas. Just a day earlier, employees were taking down Christmas decorations at my JFK hotel as I boarded the tram to catch the Egyptair non-stop.

But when I entered the imposing Ramses Hilton overlooking the Nile River in grandeur surpassing that of the Plaza Hotel above Central Park, I was greeted by a two-story tall poinsettia tree in the lobby surrounded by towering columns representing gilded palm trees. A life-size Santa Claus gingerbread village was nearby. Traditional greenery and wreaths hung everywhere. A welcomed but confusing sight, this grand seasonal décor was not set for Dec. 25 but rather Jan. 6 coming two days later, I learned.

I quizzed the hotel concierge while he made tour arrangements for me during my brief stay. He explained that though only 15% or less of Cairo’s population is Christian, the city, and therefore the hotel, accommodates their holiday, but not in December as in North America. The traditional Middle Eastern Orthodox celebration of Christmas is on the Twelfth Night.

As opposed to my native Louisiana — where the king cake ovens are ablaze and mark the official start of the carnival season (Jan. 6 through Fat Tuesday) — here in the land of the pyramids, there is a more reverent and relevant meaning. I was standing at the threshold of The Day of the Epiphany among eastern Mediterranean Christians depicting when the three wise men arrived bearing gifts of gold and incense revealing the Christ child to the world. One of them, Balthazar, is said to have come from Africa bearing the incense myrrh.

The very next day I was in Giza at Cleopatra Palace of Perfumes, where I was offered oils of myrrh, frankincense and some essence promising to make me irresistible to women. I passed, especially on the love potion. Instead I bought an ample supply of mint oil and a blend honoring King Tut. Either one, wafting from my diffuser here in Arkansas, send me back to Egypt.

Two days later, even the charter aircraft I took to Luxor to see the Valley of the Kings and Tutankhamen’s tomb entrance was decorated inside with Santa and tinsel.

The juxtaposition of celebrating Christmas within a predominantly Muslim community prior to my departure to the Holy Land was off-putting at first. But I recalled that Egypt is where Joseph, Mary and the Christ child fled to avoid dire consequences back in Galilee. In retrospect, it was appropriate and heart-warming. As did Moses and his people, I found myself a stranger in a strange land celebrating Christmas among minaret loudspeakers calling the faithful to prayer at adjacent mosques.

After a few days solo in Egypt, I met my pastor and church members in Tel Aviv to begin a nine-day journey of the Holy Land. We toured numerous sites meaningful to Christians, Jews and Muslims. We visited the Church of the Nativity, the site where it is believed Christ was born, and Golgotha where he died on the cross. Sharing open-air communion with my fellow Methodists within view of the scull-like bluff has become an indelible memory.

I just returned Sunday bearing gifts from a visit to New Orleans which included Jan. 6 by happenstance. I’ll be sharing an authentic king cake with my Bentonville grandchildren. I’m eager to hear the squeal of delight from the one finding the baby, and with that thought I’ve had an epiphany of my own: Any year I’ve cut into a king cake with friends and family, I will have celebrated Christmas twice — once in January and again in December following. Eleven hours spent on a flight to Cairo was not necessary.