One week back home and one huge problem
Well, I suppose my eyes have been opened. There are so very many different shades of pain and suffering in this world, I think I’ll either have to turn into a hermit and avoid the rest of the world or get back out there. And you know I’m one for confronting those uncomfortable things (like the freezing cold weather!).
I did not partake in the Thanksgiving festivities. Being nearly comatose with jet lag and a cold, I slunk into the back room where I slept. But don’t let that fool you, it wasn’t just that I avoided the whole messy situation. Round two (dessert) was waiting for me when I woke up.
Of course it wasn’t that I don’t love my family getting together around heaped plates of tasty turkey, the best stuffing, potatoes and gravy, two kids of sweet potatoes, roast roots, cole slaw, broccoli salad and the bowls and bowls of black olives. Of course not. I don’t know that there is an event my family will not use as an excuse to eat. Holidays, all stops are pulled. Birthdays we just take a little longer break after dinner to watch presents being opened before starting on dessert. Funerals, friends bring more of the food, but everyone’s still eating. Stopping by on your way home? Have some food! Don’t leave without having something. And can we send a goodie bag with you, too?
Some might wonder if they didn’t get enough to eat as children and now compensate by feeding everyone who can eat. To make sure no one is wanting. So perhaps I should leave the starving kids where they are, rummaging in Bujumbura’s city dump. Forget about them, roll up my shirt sleeves and dig in. Perhaps I will, but I am thankful to have been able to skip a meal in their honor. It was the one meal I most look forward to all year. If the tiny rumblings in my tummy can help me take perspective on those tiny empty Batwa tummies, I will readily abandon Thanksgiving dinner for them. Instead of giving thanks by gorging myself, I think I am going to start my own tradition of being thankful I have so much food available!
Also, sitting back and watching with the knowledge I was not eating was almost enjoyable. Not just because I didn’t have eight extra pounds digesting in my stomach or because I had not had to elbow my way into line before all the dark meat disappeared. Eating takes attention. I was able to observe the family dynamics in a whole different way. Watching people eat isn’t creepy at all, is it?
Now my most anticipated meal of the year: The day after Thanksgiving. Is it bad form if I ask for leftovers to be spared to the day after? Cuz I’m so going to be doing that!
The huge problem is lack of resources in third world countries. But I’m back in America where I don’t have to think about them. My huge problem (other than the problem of all that spilt cream) is how to make skinny jeans look good over two sets of long underwear!