It was a typically warm December so a dining table set for twelve had been established outdoors in the middle of the courtyard. The Arab setting was so perfect, you could almost picture the Scheherazade and the Sultan sitting down to partake in a spectacular feast with marvelous stories to follow. This image was slightly distorted by the Christmas crackers on each dinner plate, and the smell of the traditional English turkey dinner filling the air. Also somewhat incongruous was the twinkling, colorfully decorated Douglas fir in the corner of the yard beside the bougainvillea. All the same, this was a beautiful blend of European expatriate and local Arab themes. When we twelve sat down to a multicultural dinner of turkey, sage and onion stuffing, roast potatoes and Brussels sprouts, combined with local vegetables, cous-cous and Persian salads, I was moved by an almost overwhelming feeling of joy – of community and sharing and love. It probably looked absurd: singing English Christmas carols, paper hats on our heads, while palm fronds waved above us and the Islamic call to prayer blared out from the mosques…but that’s when I reminded myself that I was closer to the actual birthplace of Jesus right here under these shimmering stars than I’d ever been in my life.