The longest Thanksgiving ever

This year I experienced the longest and most festive Thanksgiving of my life. Lasting a whopping two weeks, my days were filled with multiple dinners, family skype calls, presentations and classroom activities. Being that I work at a hospitality and tourism school where cooking, waiting, and restaurant services are taught, Thanksgiving dinner has been integrated into the school as a new kind of yearly tradition. The dinner is prepared by the cooking students and served by the service students. The menu is prepared in English and a traditional meal is ingested by students, staff, and community members.

The two weeks before Thanksgiving were filled with a lot of prep work. Traditional Thanksgiving recipes for green bean casserole, apple and pumpkin pie, and whipped cream were sent by my mom across the big pond, then translated by Chelo and I, and later turned in to the head chef for ingredient shopping. A guest list was prepared with a limit of 50 eaters. I did my research and prepared a power point presentation filled with my preferred version of the few available versions of the "history" of Thanksgiving published throughout the internet (is there any way to know the real origin anyway?). Lets say the week also included a daily panic attack that increased with the passing of every day until Thanksgiving day itself, which was the day of my grand presentation in the school's auditorium.

This was posted in the teacher's lounge:

Speech: Thanksgiving

Given by: Molly Yurick

Complete with microphones, loudspeakers, a blow up projector screen and well over 100 seats, I spoke about the American culture of Thanksgiving to just about everyone in the school is or will study English in the future. As they always say, you learn more about your country, your life, and your culture when you leave it. Things I learned from my research (hell, maybe you'll learn something too): Minnesota produces the most turkeys in the US... Thanksgiving is the biggest traveling holiday of the year... The first Thanksgiving lasted three days and over 150 people attended. Wowza, history!

Thanksgiving was also a day of surprise for my 17 year old group. Their English level is notably lower than my other students, so I made an easier and simpler Thanksgiving presentation for them. Up until Thanksgiving day, I pretended that I didn't speak one word of Spanish except for "Hola, como estas?" and "queeee???" During these two months of understanding when they thought I couldn't, I was pleasantly surprised to find that they always said good things about me in class, never bad things! (Thank goodness!) My favorite was "Molly mola!," which means, "Molly's cool." hahha. So on Thanksgiving day I asked Chelo, my fellow English teacher, if I had her permission to reveal the big secret to them. She told me that yes, it was about time to tell them. I told her to interpret for me (as she always did). "Every one of you must promise that you will continue to speak English to me as you have until now. Promise. Everyone has to promise." And one by one, in what was the cutest thing I have ever seen near-adults do, they raised their hands and declared "I promise." I snuck a video:

And so, in my quickest and most fluent Spanish possible, I blurted out, "So... it turns out I speak a little bit of Spanish." My students whipped their heads back and forth, doubled over laughing, and then ended with a round of applause. "Como mola Molly, como mola!," they proclaimed. This was one of the funniest things I have ever experienced. Even now, reaching the end of December, they still giggle and jaw drop when I speak Spanish to them. They just can't believe it. They spent two months thinking I spoke much worse Spanish than they spoke English. The good lesson that comes out of it though, is that I had to study and to work really, really hard to reach the level of fluency that I have.

Halfway across the world in Robbinsdale, Minnesota, my parents were hosting Thanksgiving with my aunts, uncles, and cousins. Thanks to the good graces of Skype, it was as if I was there in the kitchen with them drinking wine and waiting for the turkey to finish. They sat me at the table and I even won a game of Pokino, the game my family always plays on Thanksgiving.

The Friday after Thanksgiving I was warmly welcomed into the home of a few fellow Americans to ingest a real Thanksgiving dinner. Everyone brought a plate to share, and we engorged ourselves on wine, corn, stuffing, pie... the only thing missing was turkey- we ended up with store bought fried chicken instead. It was all pretty damn close to as delicious as always and it was nice to be surrounded by my fellow ex-pats.

During the week after, classtime was spent making my students tell me what they were thankful for, just like at a real Thanksgiving dinner. My favorite? One student said, "I am thankful I was born in Spain and not in (insert poor African country here)." Then, as a bit more entertaining piece to class, I showed them clips of the only Thanksgiving movie to date: Planes, Trains and Automobiles. Using the infamous car rental clip, I taught them how to use the word "fuck" as a verb, adverb, adjective... the works. They enjoyed that one:

It's great having students that are adults.

Thanksgiving dinner at my school was served the following Thursday, December 2nd. A few of my all-around-the-world pals came to enjoy the meal with me. First course: pumpkin soup. Second course: stuffed turkey, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole and cranberry sauce. Third course: pumpkin and applie pie. Oh, most importantly, it was all accompanied by unlimited red wine. Lets say that for the food, well, they tried their hardest... In the end, it was fun to see my school and loads of people celebrate Thanksgiving.

Gobble, gobble!

Orbayu

It's like a broken record, not that any of us still play records (except for you hipsters and oldies), but the point is that: ever since I had been placed to work in Gijon, all I heard was,

"It rains A LOT. But it's beautifully green."

My first thought process was also a broken record, Crap, it's going to rain all the time and I am going to feel depressed and miserable without sunlight for 8 months straight... It turns out that (surprise?) it does rain quite often, but, (better surprise!) the rain is an on and off again type of rain, and it's not a heavy rain, it tends towards a sprinkle or an orbayu, as they say in the local Asturian language/dialect (I don't want to get into that debate quite yet)... Orbayu is a special word in Asturiano that means something like a light mist or sprinkle. Now, it's important to note that, for example, when I woke up this morning it was raining snow. From my apartment I could hear the rain hitting the patio floor, but when I stepped outside and looked up towards the streetlamps (it's still dark here at 8am), I saw snow. But that same snow, upon touching the ground, transformed completely into rain. No sleet, no shitty, brown mess, just straight up rain. Using my Minnesnowtan knowledge, I took that to mean it was probably around 35 or 36 degrees... not cold enough to snow like it meant it, but not warm enough to simply rain. Anyway, by 10am it was sunny outside, and around noon it rained again. And back and forth rain and sun pendulum went.

I am finding this city to be quite charming and pleasant. I can say that I feel more comfortable here in the North of Spain than I did last year in the South. So far, I have deducted that this is normal because of the simple fact that I honestly believe that "the north" in countries all over the world have things in common, as do "the south." I also honestly believe this is simply due to the fact that the weather impacts your personality, lifestyle, habits, and ways of being in general. Why cold weather makes people more polite, modest, and kind? I don't know. I haven't figured that one out yet. I'm kidding... kinda. The north is just as precious as they told me it would be. Looooove it.

I must now address a topic I've been avoiding because I'm not quite sure how to explain it successfully, because more than a theory or a practice, what I am about to attempt to explain is an experience. So it may be true that Asturian people drink beer, wine and hard alcohol like all other normal people in the world... But Asturians have mastered the most socially entertaining and enjoyable yet sneakily dangerous form of drinking ever: SIDRA. Sidra translates into English as cider, but it has nothing to do with either the non-alcoholic OR the alcoholic version of cider in the US. Here in Asturias, they don't just pour sidra, lo escancian. Escanciar is a special verb used only to describe how sidra is poured. So, it goes a little like this: The waiter (or the drunk idiot on the street) holds the bottle of sider in his/her outstretched arm far over his/her head. The opposite hand is extended all the way down to the knee and holds a wide sidra glass. And, escanciar:

Next, the waiter passes the glass with a thick shot of sidra to the first person in the ordering group who makes eye contact or who reaches for it first. The next step is to CHUG. Note: Sidra is a flat drink and poured from waaay above the head aaaaall the way down to the knees to force some bubbly fizz out of it. Sidra tastes pretty damn convincing if it's bubbly but if it's flat... mmmmm... it's kinda like drinking a flat beer and we all know that's no bueno. The waiter pours a shot of sidra to every person in your group, all in the same cup, and decides when the next round starts. Oh, and when the bottle runs out, they'll bring you a new one automatically, unless you stop them first, that is. Sidra is known for sneaking up on you, too. And, it does. It got me once. I was out like a light only two hours later.

To my new friends who til now have tended to be pretty amazing but still will only be referred to by their nationality cause I think it's entertaining: The Polish, the Belgian, the German, the Canadian and the Italian. Yes, when you say it like that it sounds the the start of a joke. Honestly, with the way we communicate in our strange mix between English, Spanish and the four other native languages involved, our lives sound like a joke. But, it's good. And the only other random thing I can say about summing up why I am loving these people is: "Que hora es??":

Besos,

Molly