Things That Seem Sad But Maybe Actually Aren't

I've done a lot of adapting here. A lot of adjusting to culture and trying new things. But, I didn't want to miss Thanksgiving. Knowing that every single person I know from home was going to be sitting with their family on Thursday afternoon watching the Packer game, eating turkey and pie, would have made me feel just a little bit too far away.
A month or so ago when I mentioned to Milja and Taiana that I wanted to do Thanksgiving here they were all for it. Milja hunted down a turkey (not literally, they don't have wild turkeys here) at a meat store. She had to have it specially ordered, and then specially made, because neither of us thought that we would be able to make a turkey without it being completely dried out and gross. Taiana helped me make invitations and we gave them to Anita and her daughter, Marja and her family, Milja's parents, and Peter. I e-mailed my mom for all of the pie recipes, and we decided to skip the stuffing. Then, closer to Thanksgiving we decided that it was better to do Thanksgiving on Wednesday, because then I could still go to running practice in the evening.
So, on Wednesday, I went to school for the first three hours, and Taiana called in sick, which she actually was sick, so it made sense. I was not sick, and Milja decided that honesty was the best policy. Her note for the school said, "Sofia will not be at school today, because we are going to be celebrating Thanksgiving which is a very important holiday in America." I wasn't very sure about this, but luckily I just had to leave the note in a box. Then I walked away really fast before anyone could come.
I came home around noon on Wednesday. Milja grocery shopped and cleaned, and I made two apple pies the American way. They both went in the oven by Milja's mom. Then we picked up the turkey from the meat man in Alkmaar, who was very proud of the turkey he had made and tried hard to sell us some more meat. This was no American turkey, it was definitely a Dutch turkey. It was about the size of one of the rotisserie chickens that we all buy from Economart when we're too lazy to cook. With the eleven of us we picked it compeltely bare, but it was the perfect amount for eleven people.
After we had picked the turkey up we moved the piles of papers off of the table and brought in an extra one. We put red table cloths over the top, and candles on the both the tables. Peter came earlier with bottles of wine, I brought the turkey to the neighbor (Marijka, remember?) to bake (only for half an hour since it was premade) and Milja made mashed potatoes and green beans. Milja's dad had made pumpkin soup. The story behind the soup is that I was originally going to make pumpkin pie, but when I found out that they don't have any canned pumpkin here, I was too lazy to actually carve the pumpkin out and boil it myself. So then her dad did all of that work instead, and made pumpkin soup. Milja's mom made cooked pears, and homemade applesauce. Once the whole table was set we had so much food, just like any American Thanksgiving. Eric (Marja's husband, remember?) carved half the turkey, and I carved the other half, or tried too. Before we ate we went around the table and everyone said something that they are thankful for. Everyone was so sincere, and said something that they had really thought about beforehand that this part of the evening turned out to be a little emotional for everyone. But, it only made it that much nicer.
We ate all of the turkey, all of the pears, all of the bread, almost all two of the pies, almost all the mashed potatoes, and almost all of the ice cream.
Thanksgiving is an American holiday. We celebrate it because the Indians in America helped the pilgrims survive their first winter in the new country, and without them we would have died. This makes it a little ironic that the very first Thanksgiving I spent in a country other than America, was the first Thanksgiving that I really stopped and was thankful. First of all, being gone has made me much more thankful for everyone I have at home. So I was thankful for my family, who I sometimes forget to treat nicely and appreciate when I'm actually there, and for all of my friends. Secondly, I'm thankful that I somehow ended up in the Netherlands, in Milja and Taina's family. And then that they're extended family and so many of their friends, who didn't even decide to have me come here, have made me feel more at home and a part of everything than I ever would have hoped for. They all stopped in the middle of their busy week, and were happy to take part in a holiday that doesn't mean anything here. This year I celebrated Thanksgiving just as well as I ever have in America, where the indians and the pilgrims actually gave thanks for the first time.

Milja's birthday was on Thursday, but we didn't actually celebrate it until Saturday. Then she had a party with people from the family, some of her friends, and Peter and his mom. We all just sat around together for a long time eating and talking, and then later ordered pizza. After the pizza, I left because at 7:30 I had a Sinterklaas party with the girls from my class. A few weeks ago everyone had drawn a slip of paper with the names of one of the other girls on it, and then we had to buy a little present for her, and make a "surprise," which is just what it sounds like. Something out of paper mache, or aluminum foil, or card board, that is funny and homemade that you can put the present in. Then we also had to write a poem about the surprise. There were seven of us who did it, and we had a lot of fun with the surprisen, the poems, and the presents.

Today we didn't have a race: just a normal practice in the dunes. It wasn't raining very hard, and we had a nice workout. Today though, one of the runners from the girls team told us that she isn't going to run anymore. It shocked me to hear, and I know I'm going to miss having her on the team. She's one of the runners that I always look at and think, "that's the kind of runner I want to be." But the fact that she recognized the point where it was better for her to stop than to keep going is admirable. Anyone who has anything that they love to do, knows how impossible it would ever be if you had to stop.

So this is crisis month. After three months, the exchange student is supposed to lose it and have a "crisis." I don't feel any crisis coming on. But maybe it's not something you can sense?