thankful.

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Trying to explain Thanksgiving to someone who has never celebrated it is a difficult task. For most Americans, the mere mention, smell, sight, or thought of anything that has anything to do with Thanksgiving will give immediate and satisfactory thoughts and memories about a holiday celebrated with family, food, and football (commonly referred to as life’s three greatest F’s). It is something that cannot be explained with words. It means too much.



I have spent 21 Thanksgivings with my family. I have spent 3 Thanksgivings without my family. It may be harder than Christmas or any other holiday to spend away from family. But having spent the last three away from my family during Thanksgiving I have realized Thanksgiving not only can be celebrated without the most important F(amily) but it can be a huge success and can prove to create life long memories. For example, out of the 22 Thanksgivings with my family I can explicitly remember six. These six Thanksgivings include serving the homeless of Houston in the 5^th ward, celebrating in Arkansas with the Curtis Clan from Houston, the year we had a Tur-duck-en (also fun to explain to non-Americans), the last thanksgiving I had with my family which was the first with Reza and his family and the Thanksgivings before and after my Dad passed away. But besides these six Thanksgiving it is hard to tell them apart, to be honest. Of course that is somewhat the meaning of tradition. But I can honestly tell you I will never forget my last three Thanksgivings. Never. They have given me memories I will cherish forever. The celebration itself shows the significance of the holiday and the resolve of those willing to eat duck instead of turkey and those willing to watch the Cowboys kick off at three in the morning instead of three in the afternoon. The idea that no matter what, nothing will stop you from celebrating leaves you with a sense of pride and worthiness to celebrate and enjoy. But Thanksgiving always has to be celebrated with others and that’s where I have been extremely lucky the past three years.



This year came down to Kasie and her host family. Paolo and Elizabitta (Bitta) spent two years in America (Georgia and Michigan) and have done their best to celebrate Thanksgiving, no matter where they are. Fortunately for me, this year was in Torino. Bitta is known to have an electric personality who has limitless energy. Paolo was extremely inviting and really enjoyed talking about America and his experiences living there. Along with the ‘rents there are three kids (Gabri, Martina, and Matilde) and two pets (cat: Carmelo; dog: America). Quick story about the cat: Carmelo is 15 years old and gave birth to kittens while she was in America. The story made headline news in Athens. We were also joined by Bitta’s parents. But the honorary guests for the night were the Americans, Kacee, Lindsey, and myself. Like every other Thanksgiving I have ever celebrated, I had no part in the preparations. But everyone else that was present had some sort of part in the meal.



The meal.



Dressing, cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes, green beans, and of course the largest turkey Torino had to offer (7 kilograms = 15 pounds). In both senses of the word I am not a food critic. Judging food is not my forte and I could not possibly write about the food in great enough detail to convey just how delicious it was. With the exception of cornbread casserole there was nothing that I missed and everything was just as good as any other Thanksgiving I have ever had. On point. Well, besides the consistency of the glue-like mashed potatoes that has since doubled as super-glue in and around the house. Thanks to an 80 kilometer ride earlier in the day that burned 3,000 calories (last year’s Thanksgiving Day ride ended with a cracked carbon frame) I was able to eat more food than I have ever eaten in my entire life. I am known as a small-stomached eater but I was proud to have the largest and second largest helpings of food during the meal. Luckily I managed to take a massive portion of turkey on my second plate. Because what happened during my second plate will be a Thanksgiving Day memory that I will never forget.



Matilde is the youngest child in the family and is the reason I was able to meet Kayce in the first place as she is in David’s class. Like every other 6 year old in the world, she enjoys attention and the sound of her own voice (even with developing English). She gave a few spirited speeches throughout the night, standing on top of her chair nonetheless and spent the rest of the night crawling under the table acting as if she were a crazed cat. During a prolonged period of this crazed-cat behavior and as I was taking bite number 589 I nearly chocked when my focus was interrupted by a huge crash and an immediate nervous silence that followed. When the dust settled I noticed two things: 1. The now 13.5 pound turkey was on the floor and 2. everyone was laughing. Of course the immediate nervous laughter came in between noticed thing number one and noticed thing number two. I was cringing and wondering who was going to be blamed and who was going to be yelled at and reprimanded. But neither happened and the guilty party (maybe Gabri, maybe Matilde) were quickly reassured that what happened was not only an accident (granting innocence) but also extremely comical. It turned into quite the scene. A giant turkey on the floor, knife, fork, cutting board and all. Pieces of delicious white meat spread all over the entrance of the dinning room. Since I had been taking picture of the food all night I was quickly summoned to take pictures before anyone touched it. They the posing with the bird on the floor began, before America was given a bite or two (surely a dog named America should be allowed to indulge Thanksgiving tureky).



We were then served dessert that had been prepared by the two American girls. Lindsey made nutela cookies and Cacey made a peanut butter pie that not only took everyone by surprise but also stole the show. The crust, pie and whipped cream was all made from scratch and was delicious. Of course fruit followed (had room for more cake but couldn’t find the stomach room for an orange).



But of course there was one thing that the Americas insisted on before anyone thought about leaving. And that was to go around the table and give thanks. Of course it started with another speech given by Matilde (this one was made in Italian and translated into English by Bitta) and ended with yet another speech given by Matilde standing on top of her chair. Mine, of course was the longest and was the first Thanksgiving speech I had made that was translated into another language (the grandparents were filled in). I said I was thankful for my new friends that allowed me to celebrate this great holiday while in Italy (we had met a little over two weeks prior to that night). Everyone clapped, thinking I was done. I then thanked Bitta, Paolo and her family for cooking and having us in their house (they met me that night). Again everyone clapped, assuming I was finished. Finally I gave thanks for my family that was on the other side of the world and that I was so lucky to have. Other notable speeches included Bitta giving thanks to Thanksgiving as she noted that we are always quick to take, take, take but we seldom stop and give thanks for things that we have been given. Her father then thank Jesus for allowing him to live long enough to watch his grandchildren grow up. They adored their grandfather and obviously the feelings were mutual.



Then, sometime around 10:00 (about 2 hours after dinner was originally served) we had our espressos and the conversations began. A little after 11:00, Lindsey and I decided to head towards Porta Nouva (train station and metro stop) and leave everyone for the night. I was under the impression that the last metro leaving PN to my stop would leave at 11:50. I was wrong. But not before we waited in the cold for 20 minutes on a bus that we eventually took. It was getting late and the bus was nowhere in sight, so Lindsey called a cab. When both showed up at the same time, I made an impulse decision (with my wallet in mind) and I jumped on the bus. Lindsey followed and so did her phone that rang repeatedly until she finally turned it off. Calling a can in a foreign language is a difficult task, but trying to convey an explanation or a fib is almost impossible. But we would pay for this mistake the following night (foreshadowing for the net blog).



I arrived at the metro stop at 11:45 (thinking it would close at 11:50) only to find the gates closed and the lights off. So, there I was an hour (with a open subway, a bus ride and a walk) away from home and to make things a bit more interesting, I was out of phone money. Then I was thankful for Lindsey, her phone, and Laura’s night-owl of a brother Lorenzo. He quickly instructed me to wait for a bus that would get me to my eventual destination (Laura’s smartcar). The bus took about twice as long as the subway ride would but I was home-free, once I realized we passed my stop and I was let out and walked back half a mile to the car.



Finally around 1:15 I arrived home safe and sound. I had a quick but wonderful Skype session with the family, only having their half-divided attention (Cowboys were on). It was great to see everyone. Then I had a longer Skype conversation that kept me up passed 3:30 and ended with a plane ticket to Istanbul, woke up at 6:00 and spent the day in Torino before quickly returning to Pianezza only to pack for my weekend trip to Rome before rushing back to Torino to catch a 10 hour bus ride.



It won’t slow down anytime soon, as the next month will see me in six new countries…



Roma blog coming soon.

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Comments

[Mom]

Another wonderful story and adventure!! I'm so sorry we were distracted by the Boys! I had no idea what a night you had had!! I'm so thankful you had such a wonderful Thanksgiving!! Sounds like we need to skype soon!! I'll be back in FTW today! ILYMTLIS!!