Technically Thanksgiving Day.  I feel as if I should be a bit more nostalgic or homesick maybe, but to be completely honest it’s not phasing me in the least.  These emotions could possibly be pacified by the knowledge that I will be celebrating with some friends this weekend to simulate the whole experience I would be having back home, or maybe the whole thing just doesn’t seem real at this point considering the lack of indication by my current surroundings that such a holiday ever existed in the first place – maybe all the warm memories are a construction of my vivid imagination…

With this admittance out in black and white, I am not sure whether to credit my seemingly heartless detachment as an example of strength and independence, or take it as a sign of some sort of borderline anti-social personality disorder.  Or, just maybe, in some between-the-lines reality things like Thanksgiving Day are never really meant to be missed.  The whole fiasco seems so easily to become more a grudging chore to everyone involved than something that is really appreciated.

I’ve always enjoyed the times with family and friends more when they’re not built up so much.  When I’m there enjoying their company because we choose to be, rather than because once upon a time some ‘Indians’ were killed, before helping some Pilgrims pick corn, before Captain America decided I get 2 days off work to pay for a ridiculously inflated airline ticket so I can wait in ridiculously long lines and listen to people complain about ridiculous things like security scanners seeing the shape of their body under their clothing.

It all seems like a bit of a racket to me.  Then again, I never really have been the conventional type…

This year I will be glad for the opportunity to Skype with my family who is slightly less spread out than usual, and then spend the rest of my evening streaming documentaries at home while the ondol floor heating aids the makkoli in warming my belly.

I wouldn’t feel right ending this post without noting the fact that I have an incredible amount to be thankful for this year and every year.  I love you all.

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This morning my alarm fails to go off but I jolt awake anyways and sit up in a haze of confusion.  True, my dreams were crazy as all hell, and for whatever reason I slept with the window open, causing a cold breeze to sweep through my apartment, but this still doesn’t account for my sudden rise from REM.

Could it be that my body was waking me to get first dibs on the expected aroma of turkey and yams that paint the air of my moms house on Thanksgiving? Possibly, but as it turns out, I still live in Korea.

Earlier in the week, while haphazardly attempting  to make plans with other Americans for the holiday, I pictured myself spending Thanksgiving with an overpriced bottle of Hennessy, and a nice turkey sandwich. Back in the states my family is converging on Savannah, GA and I get pissed when I think about all the good food I’m about to miss out on. Sure I could have made reservations and spent the dough to eat a traditional Thanksgiving dinner here in Busan, but it wouldn’t have been the same, or even comparable.

Two days ago Kim Jong Il decides to show his ass again and makes it rain artillery on the south, yesterday I just about loose it over the lack of plans I have for turkey day and today I spend the morning hunched over in a chair  giving speaking tests to my 6th graders. Until about an hour ago I felt there was very little to give thanks for.

Then I read a comforting Thanksgiving post by a fellow Busanite blogger and suddenly my shitty perspective on spending the holiday abroad comes correct.

I’m not back home where a blizzard is raging, there are still plenty of trees in my neighborhood with leaves on them, I get paid today, I found the heat switch for my office, Das Racist is playing in Busan tomorrow, The pimple on my forehead is going away, one of my worst students aced her speaking test, SOMEBODY actually reads this blog, I’m going to Thailand after I finish my winter English camp (which is already “planned”), my family isn’t bothering me to come home in light of the recent northern agression, I’m still having a blast in this strange country (with plenty of new friends scattered about the peninsula),  I’ve kicked writer’s block for the time being, I haven’t been called a nigger by a Korean (at least in English), Sarah Palin is still saying dumb-ass shit in the media, I know how to moonwalk, the Vikings finally fired Brad “what-the-fuck-kind-of play-call-was-that” Childress, a Canadian wished me happy Thanksgiving, my co-teacher didn’t ask me tell the “story” of the first Thanksgiving, slavery is abolished in the states, my students finally learned the (not so) secret handshake I’ve been trying to teach them for months, and lastly, later tonight  I’m meeting up with a bunch of other American Busanites who failed to make “proper” Thanksgiving arrangements. We’ll spend the holiday however we damn well please.

No, it doesn’t exactly feel like Thanksgiving, but I have plenty to give thanks for.

Ciao,

Kimchi Dreadlocks