Thanksgiving kicked off what is to be my first holiday season overseas (at least that I can remember). And of course, all efforts have been made to celebrate as we would in America, complete with reminders to order turkeys in October to ensure delivery before Thanksgiving and almost no mention of Native Americans (hey, we had a flag and they didn't).
But luckily I have a very considerate boss, who even though neither he nor his wife are American, dragged me around with them to several Thanksgiving celebrations, so that I didn't get too homesick.
The first was at the ambassador's residence, and wow, our tax dollars are certainly being well spent on that establishment - the inside of the house has an incredible art collection while the back terrace looks out on the Congo River (the peaceful, not crowded or dirty part) to a part of the Republic of Congo that has no buildings so it's just a bank of green. I also finally realized that anyone is allowed to go over and use their pool (and tennis courts) so I think that will become a Saturday morning routine - I'm barely any tanner now than I was when I got here - mainly because the nuns would consider sunbathing a little too immodest, so it's time to remedy that so that I can live up to everyone's expectations.
Friday, I went to another (and quite frankly more delicious) Thanksgiving party where there were sweet potatoes with marshmallow topping. Apparently there was also orange added in the mix, and I highly recommend this to anyone who ever makes sweet potatoes in the future. The hosts apparently have a pet duiker (tiny antelope-ish thing), but it was dark and rainy so I didn't get to see it, or ride it, or put jingle bells on it - although if they want to become somewhat of a legend around here, they should definitely do that for Christmas.
The only weird part of the party is that I was one of the only people without children, definitely the youngest by quite a bit, and seemingly one of the few women with a job, so often my small talk was extremely lacking. I'm thinking about making it one of my personal development fellowship goals. Others' main attempt at small talk with me was, "how do you like it here so far?" I have discovered that this is a trick question.
Kinshasa is a "hardship post." Now, it certainly is an inconvenient and expensive place to live, but to me, the words "hardship post" evoke thoughts of Somalia and southern Sudan, where you cannot bring your family and you live with a packed bag in case of evacuation or potentially a place without electricity or running water and no servants to haul your water or start your fires for you.
The acceptable answer to this question ranges from a half-hearted smile, a little shrug, and a sentence like "agh, it's okaaay" but in a way that implies that it's really not okay but you're just being polite to "yeah this sucks and I can't wait to leave." The less acceptable answer is mine - "oh I like it fine" or "I've found a lot of things I like about living here." These types of answers are generally scoffed or laughed at, being something only a nube would say, and generally end the conversation because people don't seem to know what to say next.
At one particular point of the Thanksgiving dinner (Thanksgiving, being a time to be thankful for things about your life that are good), as people are bitching and moaning about living here, I am sitting next to someone who has been born and raised in Kinshasa, and although having left during the Civil War, has been back and intends to stay (I think) - I'm guessing that to him, and other Congolese people who have to endure all the jibes about their country and city, many Americans are a little ugly.
But I don't want to end this on such a sour note - people didn't whine that much during dinner about Kinshasa - and considering this is just a bunch of people thrown together by chance, they might not have much else in common to talk about - in general, Thanksgiving was fantastic. There were adorable children running around laughing, babies (that generally at least one of the partners in a couple tried to hold while the other tried to discourage them from holding lest they get any ideas), as I mentioned the absolutely delicious sweet potatoes, and a chance to meet some of the other expats who live here too.
Probably the best thing about Thanksgiving though, is that even if maybe people forgot about the being thankful part sometimes, everyone made such an effort to welcome me and make me feel at home at a time when nobody is really at home. That community spirit, which I like to associate with barn raisings and the entire Little House on the Prairie series, hopefully makes more of an impression when Americans are overseas.