A Year in the Life of a Penguin

As an obroni, there are few questions that I am politely - but invariably - asked, commonly by taxi drivers or other passing new acquaintences.


-How long you have been here in Ghana?
followed by:
--How do you find the people of Ghana?  
alternatively:
-Are you enjoying Ghana?


How long? When I tell people that it’s been over a year, it often earns the remark, “Oh, so you’re Ghanaian now.”  I suppose my status as Ghanaian is as official as it will ever be: I finally have a taste for banku, a real interest in football, an arguable position on national politics and a tendency say “please” almost constantly.  Sure, I understand some things; but does that mean I'm tidily assimilated?  As I've more or less said before, you can jump right onto someone else's cultural iceberg, or build a bridge and walk across; maybe you can set up a nice igloo and find some other penguins to chill with. But that won't make it yours.  My theory?  Might as well make yourself useful! Go catch some fish.  Yet you're still a visitor, and there are some things you won't be able do without making a bit of a mess.

Recently, one of my friends said, “I love being in Ghana, but I can’t explain why.”  Yes, she was exaggerating – I think almost everyone can write up a list of things to appreciate – populated by the people we care for, or the view from the porch in the evening, or that favorite spot with cold beer and unbeatable yam balls. 


So what's so elusive? Perhaps its just that while living here has its own set of frustrations, barriers to progress and even tragedies, we wouldn't trade it in.  Our 'why' is frought with dichotomy, and very much our own.       

On to the next question: How do I find the people of Ghana? This is my standard response: "I have found everyone to be very kind."  It's true that many Ghanaians will go out of their way to make you welcome or assist you.  It's practically a trademark.  Ghana is even referred to as "Africa for Beginners" - or more specifically, "Introduction to Africa for Whites From Developed Countries." Some of my Ghanaian friends find this hilarious, and others are pleased.   However, my real response, the one that usually stays neatly tucked inside my head, is this: "I find Ghanaians to be people - strong and flawed, honest and hypocritical, caring and corrupt, just like anywhere else - packaged with a set of values that emerge from a strong spiritual life and a belief in honouring and loving others.  How did you want me to find them?"

And finally: Am I enjoying Ghana? That becomes a question of my experiences, doesn't it. To break it down a bit, I've made a month-by-month highlights reel.  Actually it's more of a "let me tell you what I've learned about myself, in Ghana, and then let me go ahead and give you advice that you haven't actually asked me for." Hey, it's my blog. 

February

• When it comes to the inexpert lighting of coal in a coal pot, don’t hold back on the kerosene. And five year olds are better at this than I am. 

• Be careful about where you swim, because beaches can be toilets, too.  
• Nestle has a firm grip around the trophy for world domination.
• I am wretched at wringing out clothes. Five year olds are probably better at this, too. In fact, the self-sufficiency of five year olds in Ghana is remarkable in comparison to five year olds in the U.S. In the U.S., we don't expect children to handle machetes and chop open coconuts. We also don't have them watch over their younger siblings. Here, children do these tasks with self-assurance and without injuring themselves or others. They even do it with aplomb. Makes you wonder if U.S. expectations of children are a little low.

March

• It can actually get so hot that you can’t sleep.
• I hate canned mackerel. 
• Only wear skirts on long bus trips because peeing in the woods is much more difficult in capris.

April

• Traveling over a holiday is a very bad idea, no matter what country you live in - just imagine Thanksgiving in Penn Station, except without any tickets. 
• It’s possible to give up goat meat after a single encounter with a kid headed for the slaughter. 
• It’s also possible for every meal to taste vaguely like mackerel, without any explanation beyond an overactive imagination.

May

• It’s easy to mess up a relationship by spending too much time in the past; it is, in fact, the kiss of death.
• When you feel awful there is always chocolate cake and good conversation (but I already knew that).
• There's nothing quite as empowering as being in a room of people who are all committed to bringing about much-needed change.

 June

• The difference between one birthday and another can astound you.
•  I have no fear of heights or little dark caves.  Or heavily sedated and recently fed crocodiles.

July

• On occasion, I lack moral fortitude (think I knew that one too).

August

• Didn’t learn a thing.  Moral fortitude still a bit in question.

September

• Being effective at work means push, push, push push push. Paa paa paa.

October

• What you think is a single, measurable event can be perceived two entirely different ways, so proceed with caution. 
• Don't proceed with too much caution, or nothing will ever get resolved. 
• Never underestimate the delight of a secret handshake, and all the other things you miss when a good friend goes away. 

November

• Turkey slaughtering is a tricky business. 
• Another thing to never underestimate: ovens.
• Elephants are AWESOME.
• Christmas songs begin playing in November in Ghana, too.  

 December

• Horseback riding on an improperly secured saddle is a bad idea.
• I am capable of taking down petty thieves and other offending individuals when pissed off.
• Gorillas and giraffes are AWESOME.
• Getting a flat tire in the middle of nowhere can be amusing, but only the first two times.
• Travelling with someone who makes you laugh is a great idea.  
• An encounter with good bread and the rapture that ensues only truly pinnacles after nearly a year of inferior selection.  

January

• Really, there's only so much pushing you can do.

February

• Engaging in the hostage taking of wristwatches and mobile phones can be an effective method of ensuring prompt computer maintenance.
• You know you have lived in Ghana for a year when you have absolutely no reaction to a sudden "lights off”.  You are allowed a dramatic reaction to lights off if it happens during a football match.  On the other hand, the return of power to your fan and lights and laptop never ceases to be pleasing - but it's a wary pleasure.   
• The best way for me to live my life is to regret nothing.
• And who doesn't enjoy a good quote? I sure do.

In sum:

The crab sorceror of Rhumsiki, Cameroon, relayed this fortune to me on behalf of the crab: “You will stay in Ghana for a little while, and then go to the next place, but then you will have a great journey in Africa, find work in Africa and live in Africa. You will have a tranquil, happy and healthy life with no problems. The crab is happy for you!"

Great plan. Yet life resists planning - even when it's based on the unshakable predictions of a crab. So how do we live, whichever iceberg we happen to be on? Gilda Radner put it this way: "Some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it without knowing what's going to happen next. Delicious ambiguity..." Again - how do we live? Floating in delicious ambiguity. So yes, I'm enjoying Ghana. But I can't explain why.

And here's some more unsolicited advice. Since this is my blog. Visiting penguins, tred a little carefully. Just make sure that in your careful stepping about, you don’t miss your crocodiles, your secret handshakes, your love, or the first and hundredth time you hear, “The Little Drummer Boy”. Likewise, don't miss your mistakes, your heartbreak, your blown tires, or accidentally peeing on yourself in the woods (well, that one you can skip - hopefully I've taught you at least one valuable lesson). Nope, don’t miss anything. Enjoy.

 

Don't Fence Me In, Part II: Traditions Bent

In my last post, I talked about how children can't help but learn societal roles, norms, and values from play.  Yet all over the world, many children with disabilities will not be included in traditional games like Antoakyere.  A lot won't play tag. Or football. 


In fact, most children with disabilities will not be included in their communities or in society at large.  In Ghana, less than 6% receive a primary education.  So what, then, do these children learn?   I'll let someone else answer. 



Interview with Ziblim, age 24.  Northern Region. Treasurer, UCC Association for Students with Disabilities; Executive Board Member, Ghana National Union of Students with Disabilities

Ziblim is the “younger” twin.  In Ghana, the twin born first is considered the youngest - sent by the older twin to come out first to observe before following. Ziblim’s brother is Al’Hassan.  They are 2 of 6 children by their mother – who is their father’s fourth wife. “I can’t quote exactly the number of people I have in my family…unfortunately, out of this lot, I’ve been the only person who has gone to school.”At four, circumstances still unknown resulted in physical disability.  His grandmother encouraged him. "She put me up. I was literally on the floor – and that way I started moving around."  Now, he is a wheelchair user. 

He describes his attempts to socialize with his peers, and the effect this had upon his family. “My parents found it very difficult to understand me, that whatever my colleagues did I also tried doing that. To the extent that when my colleagues were playing football you would see me there playing with my hand. It would bother them so much…they never liked that.”

There is no disability awareness in his community, Nyankpala, but many people with disabilities.  Ziblim related that in this environment, “People like us suffer, from the family and from the community.  He later adds, “Generally, in the community, the sort of eyes that will be on you…when there’s a gathering you may not even like to go there.  It will force you to isolate yourself from the community. The eyes that will be on you…that alone will make you lose your steps." 

Of course, it's not only stigmatisation that causes suffering.  So much can come from a simple lack of awareness  and misconceptions about disability, ability and possibility.  

“My father made two assertions I can’t forget.

“The first assertion: For a disabled person, all we know for you is to go out there and beg. Get yourself out there that people will see you, have pity for you, and get you something.  But for you to join your colleagues in playing football, who will pity you, and have mercy on you, not to talk of giving you something?

“Later, he saw that education was very important in my life…instead of playing football, all that he expected me to do was to always be on the chair, with my book. That was the second assertion: that I should always be on the chair, with my book.

“That one alone also encouraged me. I know it sounded like as a disabled person, you had nothing to do but to study. But I also saw that learning would really help me. So I really devoted my time… I knew more than my colleagues out there."

Ziblim graduated with high honors from secondary and senior secondary school before coming to university.  He independently sought the funds that would pay his way through senior secondary, and is currently managing his own university tuition.

Via football metaphor, Ziblim tells me what he has learned.

“If you have competition with someone, play on neutral grounds. If you don’t put in more effort, then you’re playing on someone’s home grounds.  

“As people with disabilities, we never have our own ‘home’ to play. We are always playing away – at the home of our opponent. Already that person has the advantage over you.  It is our own personal effort that brings us to neutral grounds.  Effort will neutralize the whole situation. Not from the environment – don’t depend on the environment. Put in your own efforts, and the environment in turn will respond to that.”

**


Throughout Ghana, there are sacred groves and sacred trees with tremendous religious importance.  In Rhumsiki, Cameroon, there are "trees of words", beneath which different groups gather to discuss issues or settle disagreements. 

Traditions bind us together, and are the roots of our culture and society.  But a tree without roots deep enough to support its surface area becomes unstable. James R. Ure contends that “the same is true if we stubbornly stop growing…thinking that we know it all already and can therefore stop adapting…failing to dig deeper to create stronger roots that widen out into a broad network of stability.”

Every person must participate in order to ensure the stability and strength of a nation.  Children in Ghana are very well-loved, but ignorance of disability-related issues can result in social exclusion.  That's a guarantee of failure.  All of Ghana’s children must be included, educated and fully participate in society.  And may they all be strong.  

Ziblim says this: “How sure am I that I will be able to persevere, go through, pass through all these people and become someone one day? At the end, I will be the best. It’s really funny – I never saw myself as someone with a disability.

“What I just want to put across is the self-determination here…I think I have it in me. I have this self-determination. Because whatever be the case, I accept I must make it.”

PS. For Future Volunteers:

"As a future volunteer who would like to work with human beings, they should help get people to realize their own capabilities...and feel they are included and part of the world.”

What we just can't miss - playing in Ghana and beyond

Don't Fence Me In: Traditions Bent, Part II. Preface

Georgina and I were recently rummaging around Cameroon for some things to do.  It wasn’t difficult to find a few activities, but it involved a lot of travelling – by train, bus, car, moto, horse and foot.  So we invented some games for the ride.  Here were the most successful at keeping us entertained:

Game #1.      Hold the camera steady and take random (and, at times, sneaky) snaps of interesting scenes. 

Sometimes, they go oh-so-right and
we wind up with amusing pictures.   

from the back of a moto

football game out of a train window

Other times, we get blurry messes.  Then we express our disappointment.

And sometimes Georgina makes comments
that could be profound in another context:
“All I got was the shadow of a tree.” 

Game #2.     Compile “Most Ridiculous Quotes of the Day”.  Please note that mine sound more stupid than ridiculous.  Please note that Georgina sounds cool and wise. 

26 December 2011

K: “I really like trees.”

K: “There’s good things on your side (of the road) too!”

27 December 2011

G: “I’ve been surrounded by hills my entire life.”

K: “Haven’t we all cried like that goat at one time or another?

29 December 2011

G: “I could totally rock pantaloons.”

31 December 2011

K: “What’s the bottom of a bag – it’s all relative.”

K: “In your own village, you never stumble.”*

*Yes...I have invented a proverb. Origin? The roads of Rhumsiki, Cameroun: Georg and I pick our way through the dark while our guide walks confidently over a grumbly path.  I know, wow.

Ok, on with the subject of games.  Gazing out windows, squinting through Harmattan haze or walking the green streets of Yaounde, I naturally saw a lot of kids at play.  Like boys trying desperately to swing on bike tire tubes that they had slung around a tree branch.  And a group of four year olds with big sticks fighting trees and imaginary foes. 

Do we all play the same games?  I would have loved swinging from one of those tubes, although I doubt it went smoothly for those boys (those things never do).  Georgina remarked, as we watched the tree ass-kicking posse, that her little sister used to smack trees with sticks in order to “wake them up” (no, I don't think she still does it).  And I think everyone in the world plays tag.  It’s just plain cost-effective. 

 

There's a game here called, “Antoakyere”.  It’s a traditional Akan (the largest tribe in Ghana) children’s game, meaning (in as close a translation as possible), “Something is behind you, but you have missed it”.  How do you play? The kids sit in a circle. One carries a cloth or rag and runs around the group singing:

antoakyere o antoakyere o
Group response:

yie yie yie!

antoakyere o antoakyere o
yie yie yie!

obiba bewu o

(translation: somebody's child is about to suffer some fate)
yie yie yie

Rules: No one is allowed to look back. One kid runs around the circle and secretly drops the cloth behind one of the seated children while continuing to sing. Two options: 1) kid realizes the cloth is behind him, picks it and runs to tag the child who dropped the cloth, or 2) kid doesn’t realize the cloth is behind him, and is reached again from the other side of the circle – this kid gets beaten (um, playfully) by all the children until he runs for refuge (pre-selected by child council).  Then play again.  For all you Americans: Does this remind you of Duck Duck Goose, or what?

It's by playing that children learn societal roles, norms, and values.   According to D. A. Akuoko, Antoakyere teaches children to “have endurance, be watchful and a bit skeptical in life as all that glitters is not gold.”  So every verse and every pass around the circle is training ground for relationships to be structured, rules to be followed, successes to be won and failures to be survived.    

Kids don't care.  But the learning bit is something they just can't miss while they're running circles around their friends. In whatever country.  I’m not exactly sure what I gleaned from Duck Duck Goose.  I would have flopped at being watchful playing Antoakyere, since it still seems to come as a surprise that there might be "good things" on both sides of a road (ugh).  At least I made up my own proverb.  "You've done well," says my colleague, when I tell him this story.  Maybe I picked something up, after all.

Don't Fence Me In: Traditions Kept, Bent and Broken

Part One: Traditions Kept

Note: This will probably be my only Incredibly Pro-American Post, but it follows in the tone of how we created Thanksgiving for our guests.  So deal.

I’m on a trotro out of Lawra, heading down the Jirapa road toward Wa. The road is rough, but it definitely could be worse; the plastic windows are open as far as they'll go, which is about halfway. Ghana’s Upper West region is rushing by, abstracted by that infamous gritty red haze. I’ve been watching a layer of that same grit gather on the vinyl of the seat back in front of me, because that's the price you pay for the circulation of air. Figure out for yourself what that means for my clothes and hair and lungs. However, for the moment, I’m thinking more about the last week I've spent here. I cohosted an American holiday – Thanksgiving– with Abbie, another American volunteer, at her home. All for a bunch of Brits, a couple of Dutch, and a Canadian. I'm not sure, but I think we’ve been planning since March. Many, many laborious hours have been spent in coordinating this event. We've learned a lot, and as volunteers, we're all about CAPACITY-BUILDING and the SHARING OF SKILLS.  So let’s review the recently compiled 15 Steps to a Successful American Thanksgiving in Ghana:

1. Turkey selection and purchase (by someone qualified, in this case, Enoch).

2. Turkey naming (Slutty MW, full name not to be disclosed - this is careful work, not to be rushed. Name turkey something meaningful, yet not something you might have difficulty murdering).

3. Ongoing feeding of Turkey (Enoch!).

4. Menu decisions.

5. Guest decisions.

6.  Request Thanksgiving-related items from family/friends.* This may include: Honeymaid graham crackers, Hershey's chocolate, marshmallows (oh, you don't recall s'mores as part of the Thanksgiving holiday tradition? it's new.), stuffing, cornbread and biscuits (American biscuits, not British biscuits, there is a clear distinction).

7. Guest revisions, based on food availability.

8. Request immediate emergency back-up box of Thanksgiving-related items be sent by family/friends.(*) As in, that box filled with stuffing and cornbread hasn't arrived yet, and it's been 6 weeks. Can another set of parents send an identical box?

9. Decisions as to how to spend guests’ money on menu items. (Very important)

10. Selection and download of (American) football game (please don’t call it a ‘match’, it’s a GAME; 'match' implies politeness, like 'tennis match' - football isn't polite.).

11. Procurement of projector for watching football game (I'm assuming you have learned your lesson on country origin of game and its distinction from  a 'match') and surface for projecting game onto. The nice white reverse surface of a world map taped to a door frame with blue electrical tape is acceptable.

12. Last minute call for forgotten items from nearby swank cosmopolitan hubs, like Wa (please don't ignore sarcasm).  Forgotten items may include: canned corn (not available in stores but in a volunteer's possession who is willing to part with 2 cans, for small fee) and extra baking dishes (not available at all).

13. Preparation of Thanksgiving-related oratories/songs (i.e. Pledge of Allegiance, America the Beautiful) and Thanksgiving crafts.

14. Last visit to Turkey, and Pre-Day of Slaughter Picture-Taking.

15. Get ready to have some fun! (too much?)

*So ok, in reality, Thanksgiving was actually only made possible through the support of our generous (American) family and friends, either sending or bringing packages filled with food and construction paper and marshmallows (we’ll get to that). And we are EXTREMELY grateful.  

So here's the breakdown. 

Upon our Monday arrival in Lawra, Abbie took me immediately  (Step 14) to where Slutty has (oh! had...) been fattening up to his full beautiful 20 pound self  over the last 7 months – the home of Enoch, our Turkey Daddy.  We didn't care that the light was fading, or that Abbie had never driven her moto in the dark, or that she had almost no experience driving with a passenger. Sometimes you just have to look at what's really important, and count to three.

both Slutty and I looking a little ... wild

Tuesday, we did nothing. I recovered from my many injuries sustained thus far on the journey (tripping over a cement block at 4 a.m. in the Tamale bus station, scraping up left leg and foot and hand, in front of a lot of people; followed almost immediately by falling in the mud at the beginning of the Safari Walk at Mole National Park the next morning, which actually didn't hurt but was also in front of a lot of people; and finally, the 2nd degree burn on my right leg from the exhaust pipe of a moto 2 hours after falling in the mud, while leaving Mole National Park).

Not so bad, but for comfort food, I'm sticking
with (American) Kraft Mac N Cheese.

But Wednesday was a big day. As a matter of fact, it was officially Day One.

We let the Brits do One Non-American Thing, which was beans on toast with egg, tomato on the side.  


Abbie and I did some Pre-T-day baking. 

How Domestic!!

 

And shortly before 3 p.m., we made our way to Enoch's house.  So I could explain the murder, but I think perhaps photos say it best.

the Last Walk of Slutty

A & K learn to slit a turkey's throat
with a water bottle as a visual aid

The Traditional Thanksgiving Turkey Chase
(Enoch thought we were crazy.
he sprinkled a little food on the ground, and slutty came right over.
imagine that.)

Releasing Slutty for the Traditional Thanksgiving Turkey Chase.
What - don't you do that at home?

Turkey Mamas and Aunties

Moment of truth, and thus death. Except we don't do it right.
So a moment later Enoch will step in.

Enoch looks on...worriedly

nothing to say here.

Mourning.

INCREDIBLY smelly

A quick note here.  Right off, Abbie and I had developed a points system for all Non-Americans.  Points would be accumulated based on general enthusiasm for all activities; demonstrated knowledge of enjoyment of T-day, including foods involved; "natural" use of american slang and/or swears; and doing things that Abbie and Kelly approve of.

Given that, try to identify the guests who received (or lost!) points based on above criteria:

waiting Brit #3: Adele

waiting Brit #1: Georg

waiting Brit #2: Hannah -
but she is keeping amused.

T-day kick-off continued, and shall otherwise be known as S'mores Day (all products imported). The Brits received very careful instructions on  S'mores-related topics (Stick Selection, Proper Graham Cracker Breakage, Marshmallow Placement, Toasted vs Burned Marshmallow, Teamwork for S'mores Success and Eating Your S'more), but (I have to say) they were quick learners. God this was a complicated holiday.

Obviously, we started with the Pledge of Allegiance

Essential S'mores ingredients.

Teamwork for S'mores Success!

Eating Your S'mores

Thanksgiving... also, Day Two.

Obviously, more baking was done.  Enoch put Slutty in the oven at noon.  And we undertook the time-honored elementary school (yes, same as primary school) tradition of making the Thanksgiving Turkey Hand.  It took alot of explaining, but the Brits finally caught onto what we were trying to accomplish. Go ahead, play the "who won points" game with yourself.  It's easy. 

We each did two - one for what we're thankful for here in Ghana, and the other was what we're thankful for back in our home countries. Some examples:

"I am thankful for..."

Ghana - flushing toilets; Koala (posh supermarket in Accra); sunlight dish soap (which cleans dishes and turkeys, we've learned); mangoes; Raid

US/UK - reliable public transport, fresh cold milk, cheese, family and friends, proper mattresses

So the baking was finished...

Slutty arrived...

...and was sliced up, in a manner of speaking, since it's really difficult to 'carve' when you don't have any sharp knives.

the Plate.

Then we ate RIDICULOUS amounts of food and listened to only American music.  Points were gained by Brits who compiled American musicians into a Thanksgiving Dinner Playlist.  Points were lost because some Brits tried to eat their biscuits with a fork and knife, and worse, their cornbread muffins with a fork and knife. Points were also lost for those who didn't like pumpkin pie.  Points were regained by going back for seconds, and then for thirds, post-football game.

And finally, we watched the football game - Bears vs Eagles - original play from sometime in early November. And - i have to say - points to Georg for actually getting into the game, unlike other people (Adele) who just fell asleep but pretended to be watching.

And Day Three.

Day Three brought one Central Region volunteer and a bunch of UW volunteers into Lawra on their motos, bringing their own contributions, just like the Pilgrims.  That's right, it was a little potluck dinner - although 'potluck' is evidently an American term, and thus had to be explained. 

They went through the Turkey Hand activity beautifully. Adrienne even raised her hand to ask a question without being told to do so!

The Pledge was said again, this time with proper group participation.

Adele was treated to a 'cake' made up of leftover mashed potatoes, yams and stuffing with birthday candles. 

Then we called her inside and a very select group ate it.  That includes Georg, she's taking the picture. I don't want her to feel left out by not mentioning her.

Finally, the award ceremony for First Place winner of Most Points, and Runner-up! 

Congratulations went to Adrienne, our First Place winner, who received the pumpkin centerpiece and an autographed picture of Abbie and Kelly, with the charge to recreate an American Thanksgiving next year - thus beginning a new Ghana tradition! And congrats also to runner-up, Bob, who received an autographed picture.  Adrienne was selected for her Outstanding Participation in the Turkey Thanksgiving Hand activity (particularly for raising her hand), the fact that she enjoyed and asked for extra pumpkin pie, enjoyed and asked for more s'mores, wanted to learn the words to the Pledge of Allegiance, and built and kept the bonfire; plus she is generally cool.  Bob won because he sang a song during his Turkey Hand presentation, asked for seconds at dinner, brought Bailey's and sang again at the bonfire. 

But really, to the original Brits - major Points.  We couldn't have done it without you. Well, we probably could have, but it wouldn't have been as fun.

So recently, someone asked me: why do you bother to keep this tradition? Pretty simple, really. It's a way of reconnecting with the familiar.  Abbie and I truly did start planning this back in March or April - because we wanted, or perhaps needed, a little something from home.  Traditions are certainly comforting, be they found in food or elementary school crafts; but the irony is how much our traditions actually change over the years.   As a child, I remember going to my aunt and uncle's house, playing with my cousins and the dogs in the backyard, relatives everywhere, food a distant thought.  Well, the pie was important.  When my parents got divorced, all the holidays shifted left and right and sideways, but eventually settled into new patterns that accommodated a new community of individuals.  Then I grew up a little more, to that age when you prepare a Thanksgiving dinner on your own for the first time; traditions shifted again.  We make it what we want, don't we?  We define where and what and how as we choose, and with whom we choose to share it.  Some things from the past we are willing to let go of, like a physical location, or even a set list of people.  Some things we aren't.  Like pie, that's still really important.  Oh, and maybe giving thanks. 

   

Now some people try to recreate past holidays, whether by using their grandmother's china, or carving the turkey how their father taught them, or by making their great aunt's stuffing.  So we provide ourselves with a sense of continuity, and the reassurance that previous generations are not being lost.  Does that mean that we won't be lost, either? Will my niece bake my mother's pumpkin pie, and use her great-grandmother's china on her table?  Will that even be important to her? 

I don't know what my niece's traditions will be.  What's important for her to find in them, however, is the same thing that's important for all of us to find: a community of loved ones and the closeness that follows, the sense of continuity found in chosen rituals, and maybe the comfort of really good pie. Because in all of this, in all of our traditions kept, is the renewal of shared experiences and expressions of love.

Boil it all down, down to the very basics: What's the REAL American Thanksgiving recipe?  Ok, Brits, here it is, copy and paste if you need to. 

1. Food (negotiable),

2. Friends and/or family (not negotiable),

3. Fun (inevitable), and

4. Actually doing the whole "giving thanks" bit (indisputable). 

And seriously, you can't eat cornbread with a fork and knife.  Stop it right now.

Hannah, Georgina, Kelly, Abbie, Adele