Originally posted December 1, 2003
Last night AIFS threw the students their own Thanksgiving celebration. All day it rained steadily and it had turned very cold, a sharp contrast from the warm spell we’ve been having. I kept thinking about everyone packing up to go home, piling laundry and all sorts of stuff into the trunks of cars on Tuesday afternoon as I rode the bus to campus. This week went slower than usual despite the lovely weather due to papers I had to complete and tedious things of that nature. Marie-T and I didn’t get to talk a lot this week because she had dinner meetings twice and babysat her grandkids once. And I was always working on my papers before and after dinner. We watched the World Rugby Championship together last weekend. I was for England and she was backing the Aussies. I told her I would eat Roquefort if Australia won, so I’m glad they didn’t. I got a special “tarte aux pommes” (French apple pie) because England won. But her grandkids were there so she was preoccupied with them, and I was busy as well. I did complete my French research paper however, so now all that stands between me and Christmas shopping and Disney movies in French every night is my European Union class paper, which is in English and much less daunting.
The last Thursday in November is just like any other day here. Halloween is recognized for its commercial properties, but Thanksgiving is altogether ignored. It’s natural, I wasn’t expecting any special concessions, but it seemed so strange to be away from my house, helping my Mom cook, and the smells of my dad’s yeast rolls and the turkey roasting. It was unfamiliar to be in class when I should have been watching the Macy’s parade. There was no football game to watch, no relatives to see, no fire to sit by; just a little room on the outskirts of town where all the students in the group, our host families, and some significant others and families from the States gathered to share the holiday.
We got to the dinner around 7:45pm and started off with some pastry appetizers and rum punch for the aperitif. All 37 of the guests had arrived by 8:10 and at that point we sat down around a formation of tables for the salad course. There was marinated eggplant with feta cheese, baby corn and heart of palm, cucumbers in cream sauce, potato salad, and mushrooms in a tomato sauce. Then we moved to the main course, turkey with chestnut stuffing, cranberry sauce, no mashed potatoes due to a kitchen mishap, and a squash and nutmeg puree. The puree was probably my favorite. We finished off with the French equivalent of pumpkin pie, a thin pie with a substantial crust, solid pumpkin filling with a heavy cinnamon flavor, and some French vanilla (not just vanilla) ice cream on the side. All in all, it was an endearing adaptation of the classic American meal.
I sat next to Marie-T and across from my friend Kara’s family who was visiting from Vermont. Basically it was 4 english-speakers and one French person at our end of the table. Kara’s family speaks about 6 words of French and Marie-T the same amount in English. I started thinking how to include everyone in the conversation. Kara was sitting on the end of her family, farther away from me, and she was occupied with her host parents. At first I was just talking to Kara’s family, but I could tell that Marie-T was well aware of the language barrier. I would turn to Marie- T and we would talk for a while, but then Kara’s family would fall silent. A curtain of awkwardness was drawn around our half of the table. Then, finally, Kara’s dad asked me to translate a question for Marie-T. I posed the question and she seemed to light up and to delight in an American taking interest in her. The tension lifted immediately and we all began to converse together with me translating. I really enjoyed it and Marie- T told me that she has been to a lot of these dinners (she’s hosted students for the last 8 years), but she has never spent one outnumbered by Americans. The idea of an authentic Thanksgiving surrounded by foreigners seemed to tickle her. She gave Kara’s family advice on what to eat in Lyon when they travel go, she told them what it’s like to have students living with her, and she ventured a few words in English. Translating was fun and gave me a little more confidence in my speaking and comprehension capabilities.
Aside from the squash purée, the food was nothing special and certainly no substitute for the undoubtedly grand affairs that were taking place stateside, but that mattered less and less as the evening progressed. Ben Franklin wanted America’s national bird to be the turkey. He thought it a very noble representation of our nation. Ben Franklin was also a Francophile. He was adored in the French royal court and he was fascinated with French culture. I thought about good ol' Ben when I was sitting at the table and when I was walking home. The American turkey- the dinner, the tradition, the reason for us all being brought together, was filled with a rich French stuffing that brought out a new flavor in all the guests and opened our eyes more to each others culture. And everyone knows turkey and stuffing go together, you can’t have one without the other. France is beginning to be a part of me, not just an extended vacation.
The meal also brought Marie-T and I a little closer together as she had to depend on me to help her communicate and understand the traditions and conversation. We talked the whole way home and just before we arrived, we passed a car that was covered in snow, (the higher elevations in the surrounding mountains got about a foot yesterday) and we had a snowball fight. I spent my first thanksgiving away from my house in Virginia in my home away from home. Plus I know there will still be left over turkey when I come home for Christmas, so I didn’t totally miss out.
Last night AIFS threw the students their own Thanksgiving celebration. All day it rained steadily and it had turned very cold, a sharp contrast from the warm spell we’ve been having. I kept thinking about everyone packing up to go home, piling laundry and all sorts of stuff into the trunks of cars on Tuesday afternoon as I rode the bus to campus. This week went slower than usual despite the lovely weather due to papers I had to complete and tedious things of that nature. Marie-T and I didn’t get to talk a lot this week because she had dinner meetings twice and babysat her grandkids once. And I was always working on my papers before and after dinner. We watched the World Rugby Championship together last weekend. I was for England and she was backing the Aussies. I told her I would eat Roquefort if Australia won, so I’m glad they didn’t. I got a special “tarte aux pommes” (French apple pie) because England won. But her grandkids were there so she was preoccupied with them, and I was busy as well. I did complete my French research paper however, so now all that stands between me and Christmas shopping and Disney movies in French every night is my European Union class paper, which is in English and much less daunting.
The last Thursday in November is just like any other day here. Halloween is recognized for its commercial properties, but Thanksgiving is altogether ignored. It’s natural, I wasn’t expecting any special concessions, but it seemed so strange to be away from my house, helping my Mom cook, and the smells of my dad’s yeast rolls and the turkey roasting. It was unfamiliar to be in class when I should have been watching the Macy’s parade. There was no football game to watch, no relatives to see, no fire to sit by; just a little room on the outskirts of town where all the students in the group, our host families, and some significant others and families from the States gathered to share the holiday.
We got to the dinner around 7:45pm and started off with some pastry appetizers and rum punch for the aperitif. All 37 of the guests had arrived by 8:10 and at that point we sat down around a formation of tables for the salad course. There was marinated eggplant with feta cheese, baby corn and heart of palm, cucumbers in cream sauce, potato salad, and mushrooms in a tomato sauce. Then we moved to the main course, turkey with chestnut stuffing, cranberry sauce, no mashed potatoes due to a kitchen mishap, and a squash and nutmeg puree. The puree was probably my favorite. We finished off with the French equivalent of pumpkin pie, a thin pie with a substantial crust, solid pumpkin filling with a heavy cinnamon flavor, and some French vanilla (not just vanilla) ice cream on the side. All in all, it was an endearing adaptation of the classic American meal.
I sat next to Marie-T and across from my friend Kara’s family who was visiting from Vermont. Basically it was 4 english-speakers and one French person at our end of the table. Kara’s family speaks about 6 words of French and Marie-T the same amount in English. I started thinking how to include everyone in the conversation. Kara was sitting on the end of her family, farther away from me, and she was occupied with her host parents. At first I was just talking to Kara’s family, but I could tell that Marie-T was well aware of the language barrier. I would turn to Marie- T and we would talk for a while, but then Kara’s family would fall silent. A curtain of awkwardness was drawn around our half of the table. Then, finally, Kara’s dad asked me to translate a question for Marie-T. I posed the question and she seemed to light up and to delight in an American taking interest in her. The tension lifted immediately and we all began to converse together with me translating. I really enjoyed it and Marie- T told me that she has been to a lot of these dinners (she’s hosted students for the last 8 years), but she has never spent one outnumbered by Americans. The idea of an authentic Thanksgiving surrounded by foreigners seemed to tickle her. She gave Kara’s family advice on what to eat in Lyon when they travel go, she told them what it’s like to have students living with her, and she ventured a few words in English. Translating was fun and gave me a little more confidence in my speaking and comprehension capabilities.
Aside from the squash purée, the food was nothing special and certainly no substitute for the undoubtedly grand affairs that were taking place stateside, but that mattered less and less as the evening progressed. Ben Franklin wanted America’s national bird to be the turkey. He thought it a very noble representation of our nation. Ben Franklin was also a Francophile. He was adored in the French royal court and he was fascinated with French culture. I thought about good ol' Ben when I was sitting at the table and when I was walking home. The American turkey- the dinner, the tradition, the reason for us all being brought together, was filled with a rich French stuffing that brought out a new flavor in all the guests and opened our eyes more to each others culture. And everyone knows turkey and stuffing go together, you can’t have one without the other. France is beginning to be a part of me, not just an extended vacation.
The meal also brought Marie-T and I a little closer together as she had to depend on me to help her communicate and understand the traditions and conversation. We talked the whole way home and just before we arrived, we passed a car that was covered in snow, (the higher elevations in the surrounding mountains got about a foot yesterday) and we had a snowball fight. I spent my first thanksgiving away from my house in Virginia in my home away from home. Plus I know there will still be left over turkey when I come home for Christmas, so I didn’t totally miss out.
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