A Jungle Thanksgiving

Ah, Thanksgiving. That word alone conjures up multiple sights, smells, feelings, memories, and traditions. When I think of Thanksgiving, many things come to mind. Waking up early, and spending all day in the kitchen with my mom and sister making all kinds of good food, trying to sample the foods we were making without being scolded by my all-knowing mother, and then a delicious feast with all our family that always ends in groans of satisfied over-fullness. I remember my dad’s tradition of always going around the table and asking each of us what we were most thankful for, and the afternoon spent walking, throwing a football around, or maybe playing some other game in an attempt to alleviate our stuffed bellies.

This year, however, Thanksgiving was bound to be different. For one, it would be my first spent in the jungle, not to mention the fact that I was one of only four other North American individuals who would appreciate such an occasion. It didn’t help that the warmly humid weather lent itself to the illusion that it was summer, rather than nearly the first of December.

As the holiday approached, the four of us Thanksgivians got together to decide what we would do for the special occasion. We made a list of traditional dishes we would be able to make, green bean casserole was sadly omitted, as was any type of vegetarian turkey (we couldn’t bring ourselves to desecrate the dish by attempting to make it out of TVP). The list quickly took shape: stuffing, mashed potatoes, candied yams, fresh rolls, I offered my two cans of Fri Chick that I had been stashing for just this occasion, others contributed dried cranberries to be boiled and made into cranberry sauce, homemade peach and blackberry jam brought from the States was added to the list, and most important of all, pumpkin pie, the delicious kind, complete with real cinnamon. We also put together our shopping list of special items to get in town. Our plan was to make the general meal for everyone, but have our dinner together at Michael and Lauren’s house complete with our special contributions.

Finally the big day arrived, since we still had our usual day of outreach, we had to do the cooking in shifts. In the morning Lauren boiled the potatoes, and yams, and dried the bread squares I had baked the night before. My turn came after lunch, since I was at the clinic all day with the students for outreach. It was my task to finish the marathon cooking session and put together all the different dishes, and man did I have a great time!

As the food came together, the familiar smells of thanksgiving began to accost my nostrils. The pumpkin pie filled the kitchen with the delicious aroma of cinnamon, and pumpkin and several times I had to stop what I was doing to simply breathe in the lovely scent. The stuffing also permeated the air with its savory odor, and I was already feeling the Thanksgiving spirit. I even got to sample my creations without being scolded, but somehow I could hear my mom’s voice somewhere within the far reaches of my mind.

Dinner time finally came, and it was time to partake of our feast. We gathered in Michael and Lauren’s small jungle home, that Lauren had decorated with a fall theme. Five of us were present, Michael, Lauren, Anca, and I from North America, and Saray from South America, here to celebrate together with a bountiful meal to make our own Thanksgiving memories. The table set for 5, complete with two candles, and the small table of food piled high with special treats. It was almost possible to forget we were in the jungle, and almost feel that if we looked out the window we would see bare trees, grey skies, and maybe even a few flurries of snow beginning to fall.

Our meal was absolutely delicious, everything tasting as it should taste for Thanksgiving. And in keeping with tradition, we thoroughly stuffed ourselves making it impossible to fit any desert in our full bellies without first taking a walk through the already dark jungle out onto the airstrip. After returning to the little home, we savored every last bite of pie and tropical fruit salad, despite still feeling like our stomachs were near bursting. As we ate our desert we laughed, talked, and played games completing the evening of celebration.

So my first international Thanksgiving spent in another country, immersed in another culture, proved that tradition can be celebrated in many new ways. I am sure that this is only the beginning of memories that I will make in overseas holiday adventures wherever God may take me.