Thursday, November 25, 2010
A basket of laundry warms the arrival to my room.
It's Thanksgiving Day in America and I'm finally sitting down to dinner after a long day judging the 4th Annual Uganda Barista Championship. Thousands of miles away are friends and family celebrating the massacre of Native Americans across the United States. And I'm missing out on all of the fun...
Okay, that's not politically correct: they massacred the Indians. I mean, that's not P.C. either. Terrible.
Room Service brings Thanksgiving Dinner.
Reminds me of a Native American friend who's traveled to the other side of the planet to do pretty much the same thing I'm doing here in Kampala: judging a barista competition and escaping the gluttony that is American Thanksgiving.
I asked him once what his family does to celebrate Thanksgiving. His answer: "We don't."
It must be odd to celebrate a "holiday" that celebrates the massacre of your people - kind of like Cambodians celebrating the founding day of the Khmer Rouge, Italians celebrating December 21 for Stalin's birthday or Filipinos celebrating their independence marking the loss of their sovereignty (oh wait, we actually do celebrate that).
Bombay Prawns - Tiger prawns in a spicy coconut sauce with rice and an order of chips, with a Diet Coke.
Political incorrectness and genocide aside (save for the mass executions of large poultry known as turkeys), it's been a relatively quiet holiday for me in Kampala. Actually, it's been a normal workday here. No reveling. No stuffing of the turkey. No stuffing of the tummy. No football and no slouching comatose on the sofa.
No turkey at all today, save for the Chips & Fried Chicken I had for lunch.
Somewhere out there, my family has gathered (sans me) for Thanksgiving lunch. It's my little niece's first T-day and I've chosen to fly to other side of the world and say hello via video chat. It's a shame but I did get to eat my Tday dinner of Indian style prawn coconut curry and rice while making ridiculous faces at my niece while my mom held her up to the computer screen pummeling her with radiation. Nice going, Uncle...
Well, maybe I can do better next Thanksgiving.
Happy Thanksgiving to you all - even those of you who mourn this day. I understand.
Local Mango for dessert.