Thanksgiving din din-ner

In 2008, I was in Bangladesh for Thanksgiving, I was casually invited to join a local celebratory dinner. I show up in jeans, and promptly am introduced to the founder of BRAC and his family, not to mention several other superstars in development.  It was a pretty amazing night--I was so busy trying to maintain my composure and not start shrieking like a teenage girl that I could barely taste the pumpkin pie.

So when that same family invited me to their pre-Thanksgiving dinner on Wednesday, I was prepared.  I put on  nice clothes, and slipped into a nice set of shoes (which seemed unnecessary since I would be taking off my shoes at their door, but fashion all seems to fixate on the shoes).  I was not disappointed.  It was different families this time, but equally interesting and fun to chat with.  I learn about the various benefits that other institutions offer expats (everything from the ability to bring things in duty free to an allowance for duty-free alcohol) and talk to the founder of Bangladesh's first mobile money service about how when you visit Boston in the summer, it seems like such a nice place to live.  I first settle into a comfortable chair, noting how much furniture the room has (in contrast to mine), but as the room fills, I slip down onto the floor.  I've gotten more comfortable there, in my austere chairless entertaining set-up.  One woman who lived in Rwanda before moving to Dhaka talks about her set up there, which had a bed, a stool, and a dresser.  I've been avoiding inviting "adults" (people who have families or own things; or just seem generally more responsible than me) to my place because they'll judge me, but I told her she was welcome anytime.  She got it.  And I was not entirely surprised when her husband mentioned that he had 200 climbing handles that he wanted to put up in their house.  They are people who believe in turning a house into a complete living space.  Rock on.  When I find out that he's taken cooking classes and almost became a chef, and she's a killer baker, I decide that these are people that I should really cultivate a friendship with.  Operation make new friends officially begins this weekend, when I start stalking them at the American club.  I knew that membership would come in handy!  

Food was excellent!  Turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce, caramelized onions, good crusty bread, carrots, green beans, and salad with lettuce.  Super tasty.  I went back for seconds.  This is possibly the first Thanksgiving where I ate sitting on the floor.  Dessert is eventually served and there is this tirimisu, pumpkin cheesecake, ice cream, and apple pie.  I take a little of each, and finding them satisfactory, go back for seconds.  Hey, who knows when the next time I'll have apple pie will be!  

Quite satiated, I got back last night to my empty flat, looked at the dirty dishes in the sink, and decided to just go to bed.  There are moments when I understand how awesome having live-in help would be.  But then when I force myself out of bed at 6AM the following morning and transform my living room into a sick yoga studio, I'm particularly happy that I can stumble through some of the poses without anyone observing my lack of balance and coordination.  Perhaps I overdid it on the pumpkin cheesecake.

The last few days I had been ignoring that pain that was gnawing at me.  I knew what it was but thought maybe I could just pretend not to feel it.  After all, no one around me was really aware that in other parts of the world, others were celebrating (sort of like how in the U.S. we don't really have any concept of Eid being celebrated in the Muslim parts of the world).  Here it was a normal workday.  And yet, I was hopelessly homesick.  I wanted to be in North Carolina with my family.  Not sitting in my very nice new office on the 19th floor.  When I chose not to go home for the holidays, it was about logistics, costs, timing, etc.  And while probably the right choice, that didn't change the fact that on this date, I really missed all my amazing relatives.  Particularly since there is a lot to celebrate with Travis and Holly getting engaged earlier this month!  It's a big milestone.  Someone is voluntarily going to join the May Family.  First time THAT'S happened in a while!

I tried to swallow my loneliness and focus on work.  Luckily there are some exciting things in the works--I've been out in the field twice in two weeks--and I was able to distract myself from my self pity rather effectively.  It helped that I had a lunch date (which involved the amazing "frappucinno" that they recently started offering at the BRAC restaurant), a colleague who's getting married tomorrow stopped by to show me the beautiful ring he'd chosen, and I was given some homemade chocolate cake with fantastic chocolate icing (the cake I find unnecessary if you can just get your hands on the icing).   A little after 5PM one of my colleagues called to see if I had dinner plans.  She invited me to have Thanksgiving dinner at her place. I was touched and thanked her, but declined.  I could feel that the tears weren't too far below the surface and I didn't want to spend the evening focused on holding them back.  In the rickshaw home, I reflected on this.  I've read so much about the "immigrant experience," almost always people coming to the U.S., and loneliness is a huge theme.  I'm always startled when I feel homesick or lonely though; having been away from home since I was 18, you think I'd be used to it by now.  But then I realize that it's also a testament to how lucky I am.  That despite the distance and having been away from home for nine years now, I'm still love my family deeply and remarkably close to them.  And Thanksgiving, probably more than almost any other holiday, is about family. And food, of course, which the May Family takes quite seriously as well.  My mom's been sending me pictures of a phenomenal sweet potato and pecan tart she's concocted and perfected over a series of batches these last few weeks.  Maybe that's the real reason for my tears; missing out on that beauty!

I came home and curled up in bed.  I texted amar best dost (my best buddy) Farhan to tell him I was home, I had no plans to go out tonight.  I'm allowed a night at home to mope once in awhile.  I think it's cleansing, and probably healthy to admit every once in while that to live abroad has an emotional cost that often I ignore.  "I'll be over soon" Farhan responds.  I contemplate this.  I've stripped down to a tank top and am in bed.  Hardly ready to play hostess.  I text him back: "Did I invite you over and forget?"  "No" he wrote. "But your note earlier got me thinking."  My use of the sad face emoticon had indicated the gravity of my situation ("I miss my familiy :(" ).  I write back, "For your own good you should not come.  I'm curled up in bed and cranky."  No response.  After 20 minutes or so, my body reminds me that it's like 7PM and not bed time and I finally get up.  I boil some water for coffee, write notes on my white board, and am surfing the next when the doorbell rings.  I grab my scarf and open the door.  It's Farhan, with a box of chicken tikka from star kabob ("the closest we could find to turkey"), along with my guru Arafat and long-lost friend Pinak!  I hastily step into my room to throw on a sweater, grab a bottle of wine smuggled in from France, along with the bag of potato chips I randomly have, and ask them to take a seat anywhere.......literally since I'm offering them the floor.  Thik acche (It's not a problem).  They force me out of my Eeyore attitude with stories and jokes (Farhan even makes fun of me of my ridiculously big zit!).  It's much more fun than being curled up in my bed.  And when they leave, a warm and fuzzy feeling remains (despite the fact that I immediately take off the sweater.  I resent clothing and shoes--these silly conventions!).  People here care about me and are unwilling to let me retreat to my little island of loneliness just because I want to.  Many have lived abroad and so can empathize with the missing, and even the crying. I swear that South Asia has done this to me--I was never this much of a softy before!

I love being here, but it's not a simple choice and it's a complex state of happiness.  But I'm exceptionally thankful to BRAC for giving me the opportunity to have such a compelling reason to be here, to the family and friends back home that support and guide me, and the new buddies that I have here that have so quickly accepted me as their burden.  That I've been able to move from "madam" to "apa" (sister) with a lot of people, and from "apni" to "tumi" (formal to informal "you") with many as well, are signs that I'm not entirely an outsider here anymore.  It's asking a lot of me to break through a lot of the barriers--social, cultural, etc.--to get to this point, but I also huge appreciate those that have decided to open their doors and their hearts to let me me in.  I often feel like I stand so much to gain in comparison to them, who are anchored already with a full circle of family and friends.  Yet earlier this week I sat on a bed with five sisters, getting up only to eat dinner and get serenaded by an adorable 4 year old boy (twinkle twinkle; baa baa black sheep; and we shall overcome were the repetoire).  It's an privilege to get to participate in a family gathering like that.   Onek donnobad!

One of my favorite bangla phrases these days is "din, din" (deen deen), which means "day by day."  I use it a lot (though this is my first din din punny phrase).  So should I say, I hope that din din the homesickness fades?  I'm not sure, there's something comforting about the sensation of missing.  It means that you have people in your heart, close to you.  So I'm very thankful for that.  

Enjoy the feasts in Grimesland, Raleigh, Pittsboro and elsewhere!  Savor the sweet potato/pecan tart for me.  I'll have some chicken tikka for y'all!  Lots of love to all of you!

Now, back to curling up in bed (with dry eyes) so that I can do my own post-turkey trot tomorrow morning!  Gobble gobble.