This blog is devoted to my adventures abroad at University College Cork, Ireland. I was the George J. Mitchell Peace Scholar for the Fall of 2007. Please feel free to explore this page and the links provided. You can reach me at the contact info listed below. Slainte!

11.19.2007

Stuffed with a smorgasbord of Thanksgiving memories

Stuffed with a smorgasbord of Thanksgiving memories
Word@TimesRecord.Com
Shades of Green — By Katharine Rose Gergosian, Special to WoRD

As I study in Ireland, I will not be in the U.S. for some American holidays. As Thanksgiving approaches, I find myself full of thought. In my family, this holiday has always been centered on traditions.

First, there was the embellishing of the house that became more sophisticated with each passing year. Growing up, Mom was big on making sure I knew the story of the first Thanksgiving, so we would make all kinds of decorations and props. There were Pilgrim hat nut cups and Native American feather headdress napkin holders. The front window became a tempera stained glass creation of autumn scenery. The table was dressed with all of our creations and a fall basket centerpiece complete with a pine-cone turkey.

Next, there are the expressions of gratitude. When I was little, we would trace my hand and then write on each finger what I was most thankful for. As I got older, we walked in the woods to find the perfect branch to hang cut-out paper leafs that carried our thoughts of thanks. Each year the exercise was a little different, but the message always the same — to give thanks for the simple gifts of life. It did not matter who was visiting or if we were alone for the holiday, all were expected to take part in this ceremony.

Then there is the food — lots of food. Days of baking fill the house with the most wonderful smells. On Thanksgiving morning, the activity is well orchestrated. I awaken to the sounds of pots and pans taking their place on top of the stove. Mom and Dad begin preparations for an early afternoon meal while the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade is playing on the television. (Mom grew up going to the Detroit Parade each year, and this holiday would never be complete without floats, character balloons and Santa with Christmas carols.)

Finally, after all is said and eaten, we take a walk along the beach, unless the weather prohibits the excursion. The stiff breezes, sounds of the waves hitting the beach and the sea gulls whining for their evening meal serve as a nice close to a busy day rich with celebration.

Carrying these wonderful memories tucked somewhere between my heart and my head, I will have Thanksgiving in an Irish way this year. I will begin my day with breakfast at the international office. It is a tradition at University College Cork for students from the United States to take part in an "American breakfast" as a friendly reminder of home.

In between classes, I will treat myself to a trip to the bakery. It is a bit of a jaunt, especially on these colder Irish days, but it will be well worth the effort. Upon entering, the little bell on the back of the door will jingle, and my sense of smell will be overcome with delight and joy as the many fragrances that come from baking hit my chilled nose. Looking in the pastry case, my eyes will lead me to the perfect scones — moist, but not doughy, and full of fruit. It will just be a matter of choosing which one to accompany my cup of tea.

On my way home, I will stop to watch the river just like I do most days. The older gentleman who feeds the mallard ducks and sea gulls will be there. He will motion to me to take a slice of stale bread and throw it to the birds, for "these birds aren't going to feed themselves!" I will accept his offering, we will stand there in silence breaking off bite-sized pieces and tossing them to the noisy flock in the river below us.

Before returning to my apartment, I will go to the market and pick up something for dinner. It will not be Thanksgiving fare, but it will be fresh and wholesome. It will be the perfect backdrop for my exercise in gratitude.

While this Thanksgiving celebration may not include the American traditions I cherish, I will still be taking part in the true meaning of this holiday and giving thanks for all I have, for my family and friends at home, for all the wonder this experience in Ireland brings, for the new friends I have met and the lessons I have learned, for the many people who have read about my travels and kindly contacted me with their thoughts.

Katharine Rose Gergosian is a 2005 graduate of Mt. Ararat High School and a junior at the University of Maine at Farmington studying secondary English education. She is spending a semester abroad in Ireland at the University College Cork. As the recipient of the George J. Mitchell Peace Scholarship she is devoted to sharing her experiences with others and bringing cultural awareness to those on both sides of the ocean. She can be reached at katharine.gergosian@gmail.com.

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