The common denominator between November in South Africa and Ohio is the steely gray color of the sky. The difference is that the ladies here are shopping for bikinis instead of sweaters.
Marnie and I did our best to celebrate Thanksgiving yesterday, despite being limited by kitchen equipment and ingredients. The swinging sounds of “Rat Pack Christmas” played in the background as we munched on Marnie’s cheese dip. Sitting in a tank top and shorts, I had a hard time getting into Deano singing about the weather outside being frightful, but was reliably misty eyed by the time Frank crooned “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas”.
We originally were going to settle for a roast chicken, but I managed to rustle up a small turkey from the local butcher. We decided to forgo the pumpkin pie for apple wrapper (
or as I refer to it, “appa wappa”), and couldn’t be bothered to hunt down sweet potatoes. None of this seemed to matter much to our stomachs, bloated to bursting point, nor to the tryptophan induced turkey coma which followed.
Our normal post gorging viewing of “Love, Actually” was replaced by a movie about genocide in Rwanda. How horribly depressing. Later on, flipping through the channels, my heart fluttered as I turned to the Lions game on ESPN. Football on Thanksgiving, in Africa. God bless America, and her huge international media conglomerates.
In the spirit of the day, I give you things Marnie and I have to be grateful for:
1) We haven’t been mugged. Yet.
2) We haven’t had to pay a bribe. Yet.
3) No such thing as Black Friday in South Africa.
4) It was warm enough yesterday that we almost turned on the AC.
5) When the Somali guys won’t stop asking Marnie to get them a white wife, and the Kirstein kids won’t stop screaming, we have each other.
And, to keep things in perspective, some things YOU can be grateful for:
1) Police whose main purpose is to actually protect you, as opposed to shake you down or threaten arrest.
2) Electricity that, downed power lines aside, is on 24 hours a day. Note to Eskom—if you’re planning a power cut, perhaps you should TELL someone.
3) (Semi) competent government officials. If you think the BMV is bad, try South African Home Affairs.
4) Not having to live behind ten foot walls and electric fences.
5) And most importantly, we’ll be home soon.
Marnie and I did our best to celebrate Thanksgiving yesterday, despite being limited by kitchen equipment and ingredients. The swinging sounds of “Rat Pack Christmas” played in the background as we munched on Marnie’s cheese dip. Sitting in a tank top and shorts, I had a hard time getting into Deano singing about the weather outside being frightful, but was reliably misty eyed by the time Frank crooned “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas”.
We originally were going to settle for a roast chicken, but I managed to rustle up a small turkey from the local butcher. We decided to forgo the pumpkin pie for apple wrapper (
or as I refer to it, “appa wappa”), and couldn’t be bothered to hunt down sweet potatoes. None of this seemed to matter much to our stomachs, bloated to bursting point, nor to the tryptophan induced turkey coma which followed.Our normal post gorging viewing of “Love, Actually” was replaced by a movie about genocide in Rwanda. How horribly depressing. Later on, flipping through the channels, my heart fluttered as I turned to the Lions game on ESPN. Football on Thanksgiving, in Africa. God bless America, and her huge international media conglomerates.
In the spirit of the day, I give you things Marnie and I have to be grateful for:
1) We haven’t been mugged. Yet.
2) We haven’t had to pay a bribe. Yet.
3) No such thing as Black Friday in South Africa.
4) It was warm enough yesterday that we almost turned on the AC.
5) When the Somali guys won’t stop asking Marnie to get them a white wife, and the Kirstein kids won’t stop screaming, we have each other.
And, to keep things in perspective, some things YOU can be grateful for:
1) Police whose main purpose is to actually protect you, as opposed to shake you down or threaten arrest.
2) Electricity that, downed power lines aside, is on 24 hours a day. Note to Eskom—if you’re planning a power cut, perhaps you should TELL someone.
3) (Semi) competent government officials. If you think the BMV is bad, try South African Home Affairs.
4) Not having to live behind ten foot walls and electric fences.
5) And most importantly, we’ll be home soon.
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