Our First Dominican Thanksgiving

I just finished eating the most perfect banana that was ever created. The perfect ripeness, freshly picked from the large cluster of bananas sitting in back of the house. How different is the taste between the Chiquita bananas found in their sad little bunches at Meijer and the joyful, sunripened ones right from the tree... Like a completely different fruit.

On Thursday, we had a get together of close family and friends. Our first Dominican Thanksgiving! It was a fun mix of American and Dominican tradition, with food from both cultures. I made sure that we had turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes and gravy on the menu, then left the rest of the guests to make or bring whatever their personal specialty was. I hadn't planned on being in the kitchen all day, but we found ourselves with only one working oven among several households. (Note: The typical oven here is used for shelving pots and pans, not baking. The stove top is used daily, but the oven... maybe once a year?) I went to Marxengels' house and cooked the traditional fare, waiting ever so patiently for oven space. Of course, we didn't get back to Margot's house (where I live and where the guests were lingering with their tummies rumbling) till 8:30 p.m., an hour and a half later than most people arrived.

It was exciting to find nearly 30 people at our gathering! Far more than I had expected. The table was decorated with three pillar candle holders in the shape of palm trees, and Yaira's homemade cake caught everyone's eye as it looked like it came straight from a gourmet shop. Once the food was set in place, Margot asked me to say grace. I used the opportunity to share with everyone a basic history of why Thanksgiving is celebrated in the USA (the pilgrim's survival depending on the kindness of their indian neighbors, the sharing of one culture with another, etc.), and what it means to people today as people gather with their families. I explained that one tradition we have is to go around in a circle and have everyone say one thing that they are thankful for. I started out by thanking them so much for being like my second family here, ironically being almost like the pilgrim who has depended on the locals to keep me safe and well, throwing a party for what we share together. I was astounded by the depth of thankfulness that most everyone expressed when it was their turn to share. It was really quite beautiful. There truly could not have been a better way to say grace! (To "say grace" in Spanish = "dar gracias," to give thanks.)

Now, about the turkey... When I got back home on Wednesday night, it was already dark and Margot and Emerson had already gone to bed. I decided to check one of the back doors to the laundry room and make sure it was locked. I didn't turn the light on, so when I opened the door and saw two little things slowly moving about near the floor, it totally freaked me out. I thought they were either two little pigeons or two fat mice eating from a huge rice bag, too busy to notice me. My heart jumped, and I quickly closed the door. I couldn't just let my mind wonder all night as to what they were, so I turned on the light and slowly, bravely opened the door again. To my surprise, I saw two black turkeys sitting in a white rice bag with their funny looking heads sticking out! They looked exausted from a long day of being caught up in the bag with their legs tied, and really didn't mind my presence. I felt really bad for them and thought about chopping their heads off so they wouldn't have to suffer any more. But, as they were nodding off to sleep and I really didn't want to mess with blood, I closed the door and let them sleep peacefully for their last night on Earth. The next morning before I even got up, someone took them to market to be slaughtered and plucked. The next I saw them... well, you can see for yourself. Talk about fresh!

Margot →

Goodnight, little fellers!