Giving Thanks in a Foreign Land
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I spent this Thanksgiving, as the past four, with my neighbors. As I frantically cleaned my house and helped in food preparations, I could not avoid remembering my first introduction to one of the biggest annual events in America. In 1995 after escaping Sarajevo and living in a refugee camp for seven months, I was finally reunited with my husband in Chicago. It was the summer of 1995 and I was beginning to recreate my life in a new country, with language and customs other than those of my birth place.
That summer passed in a whirl of places to go, people to meet, food to be introduced to and events to attend. I have to admit that specifics of those first months in Chicago are blurred since they came on the heels of my escape from a war zone where a life without electricity, water and food had become normal. I was not just adjusting to a life in a different culture, but I was re-adjusting to a life where electricity and water are constantly at our disposal and food is not given in selected and small rations.
This was a life I used to know, but had to get myself acquainted with again. Most of my memories of those first months come in snap shots devoid of clearly defined emotions. That is, until my first Thanksgiving.
That Thursday we were to spend with my husband’s family in suburban Chicago. I did not truly understand what the Thanksgiving dinner entailed, “I guess it’s like a Christmas dinner,” I thought to myself. Oh, I knew the history of Thanksgiving and I’ve seen it re-enacted in movies but I did not truly know what to expect. So, I prepared my Bosnian desert, the only one I knew how to make without making a disaster zone in my kitchen, and I dressed up and went to partake in what I saw as a cultural exercise. This was going to be fun and I have to admit I was excited.
Once we arrived I was directed into the kitchen where I was to leave my contribution to this great dinner that the entire family had been planning for a week. As I entered the room, I stopped in my tracks. I had not seen that large of an amount of food in several years. It reminded me of an impromptu feast at the beginning of the war where we, along with our neighbors had to cook all the food left in our freezers and refrigerators since our electricity was cut off. A war feast, that is prepared for the anticipated destruction of our city.
The family’s chatter during that first Thanksgiving dinner was comforting, but I could not avoid missing my mom, my brother and my sister whom I left behind. Throughout the dinner I wondered if they were being shelled or if they were cold and hungry. In fact, as I looked at the mountain of food on my husband’s plate I could not stop myself from guessing how many weekly meals that would translate into, and how long one could survive on the leftovers.
That evening I did not eat much, but I enjoyed sharing time and stories with those around me and giving thanks for the opportunity to create new friendships and family connections, a solid foundation for my new life.
This expansion of friendships and incorporation of new people into our family continues today, with our annual hosting of dinners for all those friends and neighbors who are alone. This is our way of saying thanks for the possibility of a safe environment in which we are free to create and foster new relationships and define humanity as a giving and nurturing concept.
On Thursday I received a call from my mom in Bosnia, wishing us a happy thanksgiving. She hoped that we would all be able to spend Thanksgiving together. And that is the dilemma for so many immigrants separated from families, scattered around the world in warzones, impoverished places or under oppression. We live in two worlds, the life we’ve found here and the world we wish to change for the better.
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What a beautiful and touching story. I am going to save this story to be read each Thanksgiving at my home. To many American’s take for granted just what freedom means. Reading this is a reminder of how special that day and every day we have is. Thank you for sharing.
Ana Reply:
December 6th, 2008 at 10:58 am
Thank you for your kind remarks and I look forward to being a part of your family celebration in spirit.