27 Luni

There is no question that the holidays can be a lonely time for any Peace Corps volunteer.  Holidays are, after all, a time that is traditionally supposed to be spent with family and friends; perhaps the one time every year that people get to truly relax with those they care about.  During this past Christmas weekend for instance over one-third of all Americans traveled to see loved ones for holiday, whether by train, plane, automobile, or if you are in Romania, perhaps caruță.  This blog will get around to Christmas eventually but since I am still in “catch-up mode” let’s talk about Thanksgiving Day or Ziua Recunoștinței.

For me there was never much of a question about what I would do or where I would go for the Thanksgiving Holiday.  Although when I was a kid, my mother and I would pile our luggage into the car, swing by Dunkin’ Donuts for some donut holes and rock out to the tunes of James Taylor, Kenny Rogers and Jim Croce all the way to Johnstown Pennsylvania, this year would be quite different.  From the beginning of my Peace Corps service, I had heard that the United States Ambassador to Romania, Mark Gitenstein and his wife Libby, usually throw a Thanksgiving Day celebration at their residence in București.  Little did I know during Pre-Service Training that I would be stationed so conveniently close to București and that this year’s Thanksgiving trip of only an hour and a half would be shorter than the half-day drive to Grandma’s house of my youth.

After my full morning of classes, I made the usual trip to București via Ploiești.  With my toes partially frozen, I hoped off the bus at Piața Victoriei in the rain and made my way north on Șoseaua Kiseleff to the Ambassador’s residence.  Not only is this home recognizable by the American flags, tight security, and huge backyard in the middle of a metropolitan area, but also the house is noticeably pink with white trim.  Arriving a few minutes early I started the process of security bag checks and body scanning at the front gate.  After setting off the alarm several times by what could only possibly be the unknown alien implanted chip in the back of my head, they finally settled for a pat down and sent me merrily on my way.

Welcomingly warmer once through the giant front door, I checked my bag and jacket in a coat room bigger than my living room and started the process of mental preparation for an evening of mingling and small talk.  The first people to greet me were the Ambassador himself and our Country Director, Sheila Crowley.  This is where the sense of “home” started to kick in; sprawled out on the floor nearby were the Ambassador’s and the Director’s coincidentally matching Golden Labradors.  Since Director Crowley’s 2010 arrival in country their dogs have become friends to the point where they have regular doggie get-togethers and babysit for each other when traveling.  Further reminding me of home, as the night wore on, the two partners in crime were never far from the dinner table.

It wasn’t long before the once mostly empty living room slowly started to fill up with familiar faces.  The majority of those in attendance were Peace Corps volunteers, supplemented by members of the Foreign Service.  Even a Turkish dignitary to Romania made an appearance; a fun yet inopportune time considering the similarity between his country’s name and the night’s main course; I’ll leave your mind to wander on the overtly obvious and incredibly lame jokes that surfaced.  Regardless he was a true diplomat, going with the flow of all the puns.   The volume of chatter continued to rise as the crowd grew and volunteers caught each other up on the latest happenings at site.

With plenty of stomachs growling and the incredible smell of Thanksgiving in the air, the Ambassador called us around the buffet table.  Once the crowd was in place, he requested that we join hands and led us in a brief prayer to show thanks for the meal.  The Ambassador’s wife Libby then explained their family tradition of “breaking bread” by passing a loaf of challah around for each person to tear off and enjoy a piece in honor of the good company among us.  After a few remarks from others in attendance we all grabbed a plate and jumped in line.  What came next is indescribable; take the best Thanksgiving meal that you have ever had and improve it by a multiplication of ten.  Everything from the turkey to the gravy to all the side dishes was absolutely amazing.  Admittedly my analysis is probably at least slightly skewed as my taste buds took the opportunity to make up for the otherwise spice-less host country food.  Being a small guy, I usually don’t eat a ton in one sitting, that day however I embodied the cliché of over eating on Thanksgiving.  Focusing on the savory, I double and tripled up my plate, not even bothering to save room for dessert; a move that I whole-heartedly stand by, even though the reports from the dessert table were awfully persuading.

As the early darkness of fall settled in, the signal was given that we better not over stay our welcome.  Moaning and groaning from bloated bellies we wobbled out of our indoor, pool side chairs and made for the exit.  Although nothing can ever truly replace Thanksgiving Day with the family, watching football and arguing over whose gravy is better, I have to admit that memories of Thanksgiving at the Ambassador’s house have taken a welcome seat next to Grandpa’s corduroy La-Z-Boy recliner.  If given the opportunity again next year, there is again no question of where I will be.