Happy Pavo Day.

Imagine a child waking before the break of dawn on Christmas morning, anxious to see if Santa has left what she had been asking for all month, just like he has done every year.  She jumps out of bed and runs downstairs, her feet moving so fast they don't even register the cold floor.  She reaches the corner of the living room to see a surprise awaiting her.  But it's not the latest toy of the season that she had been anticipating.  Rather it's a bare room--no stockings, no pine, no tree, no lights, no poinsettias.  No Christmas.  If you even want to put a cruel, psychological twist on it, you could tell this poor child that Christmas was never there in her living room.  It had never even exisited.  That she had only imagined all of the decoration and festivity.

This is about how I've felt for the last two final weeks in November.  For the past four days I've faced rude reminders that Thanksgiving doesn't exist in Europe.  I've been waking up to a cold rain, rolling back over in my warm sheets because it feels like a holiday week, but then realizing I have to work.  I've been resisting urges to steal Craig's PS3 to pull a Call of Duty all-nighter (a recent Thanksgiving tradition recently developed with my brother).  I've been getting strong cravings for thick, flaky crust of my mom's pumpkin pie.

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday, and I miss it.

This week has been difficult, but I've been finding ways to deal with it:

• On Saturday my Canadian friend Krista threw a Thanksgiving party with the works.  She and Eve cooked a turkey, stuffing, green bean casserole, sweet potatoes, cranberry salsa, and pumpkin and apple pies.  (I provided mashed potatoes and gravy.)  There were a total of about 25 people at the party, all of different nationalities: American, Canadian, French, British, Spanish, German, and Italian.  To be honest I had mainly been looking forward to the food at the party.  But once we started to explain Thanksgiving, displayed all of the food, and went around the room to say what we were thankful for, I found myself enjoying sharing the holiday more than the food.  (Ok, maybe that's a bit of a lie.  That turkey was good.)

• During my private classes this week I've been teaching a bit of American culture.  To all of my younger students I've told them the story of Thanksgiving.  Then I've had them create those hand-traced turkeys.  Once again, I felt a little proud of sharing something about my culture, a little lesser known than Mickey Mouse, McDonalds, and MTV.

I have quite an imaginative five-year-old student.
He made a "Pavo Zorro."  A Zorro Turkey.

• Today I had to teach an extra class, so Craig offered to make lunch and have it ready when I finished.  An hour later I showed up at his apartment and he was busy at the stovetop with pots and pans scattered about.  In that short hour he had gone to the supermarket and whipped up an entire Thanksgiving meal--turkey breasts, mashed potatoes, green beans with bacon, brussel sprouts, vegetable casserole, and gravy.  He even sprinkled a few dried cranberries on the side.  All of it was fresh and made from scratch.  So for lunch we had a glass of good wine and a delicious Thanksgiving meal.

As I went throughout the week enjoying time with friends, sharing traditions, and eating great food, I found myself being just as grateful for friends to share it with.  When we went around the circle at Krista's house to say what we were thankful for, I responded, "My friends in Murcia that have become my family here."  This week it's the people that have helped me to appreciate Thanksgiving so far away from home.

Happy Thanksgiving.

My advice to a guiri: Don't only enjoy favourite traditions from home, share them too.