By the time we finish our turkey, family and friends back home will just be waking up, making coffee, trying to unstick the pages of Joy of Cooking and muttering, ‘is it 15 minutes per pound at 350 or 10 at 400 wait no 300?‘ Wonderful holiday tradition! Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. I get to cook with my favorite people, the meal is all my favorite foods, and there is nothing overtly religious that I have to feel bad about. Every Thanksgiving, I re-live American football on the shores of Lake Washington, oysters at Pete & Jen’s, Bill Christmas’ cranberries, turkey on the picnic table, and Graham‘s first lost tooth. Devon’s dinner rolls, Cathy’s green beans, and my mom’s mashed potatoes. Oh! My mom makes good mashed potatoes. So today, just another day in Salatiga, I joyfully hopped on the number 9 and bought almonds at the pasar to go into the stuffing for the meal we will share at the home of our neighbor Ibu La La. And I remember all of those things for which I am so very thankful this year.
Note: If you are reading this and are not from the US, my apologies for the absurdly sentimental outpouring that is about to follow. It is tradition.
I am grateful for my family. For my kids who are being so game throughout this whole crazy adventure. My husband who is not afraid of anything, even when he should be. My mom holding down the fort and my dad who worries even though he has enough to worry about. My nephew Scotty whose enthusiasm for our trip knows no bounds, the list goes on. We are a fortunate lot.
My girlfriends, oh, my girlfriends! I would be nowhere with out them. They send me jokes, tell me the weather, share neighborhood gossip, and basically remind me that the world is really not that big a place and that everything is just fine. Kirk is grateful for them too but for different reasons.
Inextricably linked to this, I am grateful for the internet. For Skype and for Facebook and Yahoo. This would be a very different experience without it.
I am grateful for the deeply imbedded sense of hospitality that we have experienced throughout Indonesia. The offers of rides, of food, of furniture! The infinite patience I experience every time some poor Indonesian is subjected to my Bahasa. The sense of inclusion that we experience everywhere we go. A woman paid my bus fare the other day, just to be hospitable! We chose Indonesia, in part because we read the Indonesians were friendly, because they embraced foreigners and welcomed them. Really, we had no idea.
I’m grateful for so much this year. Mostly, I’m grateful for the crazy set of circumstances that brought us here and that I live in a time when I can crouch over my little two-burner, stirring my wok-full of Indonesian bread crumbs, Egyptian almonds, and California dates, in French butter with my coconut shell spoon (ok, truth be told, there were better implements for stirring but I loved the symbolism of it), laptop resting on my knees and celebrate with those thousands of miles away.
Love and gratitude, my friends. Happy Thanksgiving!
No comments:
Post a Comment