Thanksgiving

Happy Thanksgiving to all! I hope you enjoyed time with your families and a good food (Stan, I hope they didn’t mess up the turkey this year).

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday for two core reasons. The first is that Thanksgiving is secular in nature and not related to the military, the government, or any other specific group. In a time when holidays are distorted to serve the agenda of the media and the economy (Xmas, halloween etc.), or sometimes used to empower governmental or political beliefs, Thanksgiving has remained for the most part impervious to such cultural acid rain. The second reason I love Thanksgiving is for what it embodies. Undoubtedly, Thanksgiving means different things to different people, but to me it is a chance to pause and reflect on the vast opportunity that being alive poses to all humans. It is a reminder of the inherent goodness of life, and a chance to slow down and meditate on the gifts that we have received and continue to receive in our experience.

Partaking in Thanksgiving in another country was quite different from normal. Several people did know that it was Thanksgiving, and they did say “happy Thanks day” or something to that effect. It was hard being alone in my understanding of the holiday, and despite these attempts by my friends to express their happiness for me, I felt pretty depressed throughout the day. With the exception of when I was feverish and my insides were fulminating, it was the most homesick I have been. I kept reminding myself I had told my parents that I demanded a Thanksgiving dinner in the summer, or whenever I returned to the United States (my father assured me that they still had turkeys in the summer). The main problem was the physical withdrawal from the Thanksgiving food. I was pretty successful at compartmentalizing my emotional feelings, but the hunger for stuffing and turkey has not left my bowels even at this very moment. Of course when I start thinking about those little onions bobbing up and down in a boiling cream sauce, or the gravy drenched mash potatoes, my mind inevitably turns to my home, my family, and the other people that also put in time and effort to make both the meal and my family what they are.

I did discover, however, that perhaps I was channeling the true spirit of Thanksgiving when I did finally decide to celebrate it by going out to dinner with two of my friends in Chengdu. Only after the meal did I realize that in fact, the spirit of Thanksgiving had been with me on my entire trip in Chengdu. The first Thanksgiving was a feast to celebrate the bountiful harvest of 1621 after a harsh winter which left many of the pilgrims dead. It is thought, however, that none of the pilgrims would have survived that first winter without the help of the natives. I feel the same way about my trip to Chengdu. Without the help of the “natives” I would have had little hope in establishing a happy living and working situation. I could list hundreds of instances in which a local’s help has been invaluable, and I have covered some already such as getting an appropriate apartment contract and being shown around the city. In many ways, my dinner last night carried the spirit of those first pilgrims and the Native Americans that kept them alive in harsh conditions. I had an opportunity to share good food with good people that were instrumental in my ability to build a successful life in a foreign place. There have been many instances in my short time in Chengdu where I have done just that, eaten food with new friends that have helped me to craft my own existence in an admittedly nuanced and unexplored world. I hope to continue to hold on to that cooperative spirit and to flesh out my feelings of thanks in order to convey them to those who have helped me. I only hope that one day they can come and join me in my home for some turkey and stuffing.