A True American Thanksgiving
Living abroad during the holiday season is a time when most foreigners get together to commiserate the distance separating them from their families and the giant, home-cooked goodness that generally accompanies all the festivities. Thanksgiving has always been my personal favorite; there’s no need to worry about presents or church or sitting on a fat man’s lap, we get to do the one things Americans do best – eat. All day. The only problem is that since I left home for college in France, I’ve spent more Thanksgivings away from my mother’s kitchen than in it. Just ask her; she’ll tell you all about it.
As I’ve had my fair share of impromptu turkey dinners cobbled together at the last minute, I figured this year would be no different, and fully expected to sit down to a Thanksgiving meal that had side dishes of kimchi and a fish head or two thrown in for good measure. So when I received an email from a more veteran teacher at one of my school’s other branches in Busan asking if anyone wanted to get together at her place to expand our waistlines in honor of our forefathers, I accepted. A day later, she emailed everyone back, letting us know that of the sixty or so teachers that my company employs in the city, forty were planning on attending. In her apartment. Forty people. Plus turkeys. Now, my place is one of the bigger apartments that I’ve seen in Korea, but you would have to crowd surf your way to the bathroom if I tried to stuff forty people in it.
