You might say I packed my apron for such a time as this. Prepare yourself… I'm having more Thanksgivings overseas than I have ever had in the U.S. of A. Thanksgiving No. 1 will be held next Wednesday at our host parents' house. They usually have Wednesday night dinners with their son in law and grandson. It's fun to have a family dinner every week, and we just asked if we could cook next week for Thanksgiving. They've lived in the States before, so they know about Thanksgiving.
Thanksgiving No. 2 is two days afterwards at the home of our pastor and his wife. They're both great cooks and have offered to have us and our first and second host parents over for dinner. There will even be American ingredients, more about that in a minute. Thanksgiving No. 3 has not been confirmed yet, but will hopefully be with "the friends" the Thursday after Thanksgiving. Yes, you noticed correctly, we won't be having any of these actually on Thanksgiving proper.
What have we signed up for? I've never baked a turkey before. I've stood by and watched while dad basted, massaged, and meticulously monitored temperatures of the departed fowl for hours. Zero to three Thanksgivings? Maybe we bit off more than we could chew (haha, Thanksgiving joke)?
Hopefully, my practical side with take command over my thoughts and we'll have a solid, sensible homage to our forefather Pilgrims and Indians. As an extrapolation of the data in Confession 36, I could either be up until midnight cutting out paperdoll turkeys and rolling out hand made pie crust, or buy something in the freezer aisle and hope for the best. Oh, middle road! Where are you in this tumult?
Speaking of food… on Tuesday, SG and I made a pilgrimage to the famed Queen Victoria Market in Melbourne (pronouced: MELL-bun). Showing ourselves as public transportation ninjas, we went by bus and train to the city, where we consulted our maps and after only getting lost once, we arrived. To say this is a huge market would be silly. First, the word huge is not worthy of such a market, second, it's larger than huge.
With the majority of it occupied by open air stalls under giant metal sheds, the market boasts aisles of everything from Aussie flag bikinis (that was a hard decision), boomerangs, and Middle Eastern table cloths to any kind of produce your heart could desire. The other portion of the market is indoor and is composed (comprised, composed??) of permanent tiny storefronts. There are fish mongers, butchers, coffee and tea shops, delicatessens draped in salamis and great wheels of cheese.
The first part of the morning, we wandered, aliens in a land of options. We agreed to just take stock of our surroundings, as we had several hours to finish any shopping we wanted to do. Up one aisle and down the next, a man heralding the price of cherries, and being told I should buy a boomerang and catch a man with it. After an hour and a half, we were overwhelmed and purchaseless. What's a girl to do in such dire straits? Why, seek out the nearest beacon of American culture, Starbucks. Although paying $5.10 for a tall gingerbread latte is exorbitant, I did it. Dire straits indeed. So we sat outside Starbucks. I ate half a piece of Turkish flatbread and SG, her PBJ. We regrouped and refueled while people watching on the sunny streets of Melbourne. After a short walk back to the market, by way of the beautiful State Library, we had connected with our inner retail warrior and girded our loins for what lay ahead.
We went to battle with epic enemies like "would Aunt Gertrude like this tea towel?" and "how many Australia magnets do I really need?" . Such foes have the potential to derail any Christmas shopping operation, but we routed them. I would give you the fine list of acquisitions, but they're Christmas presents, so I'll remain mute on the subject. Suffice it to say, we did well. Pastor John picked us up, as he was already in the city for something else and gave us a ride home. On the way, we stopped at USA Foods. This nondescript little shop on a nondescript street is a treasury of such gems as Dublin Dr. Pepper, Libby's canned pumpkin and Doritos. I think giddy would be an appropriate word there.
And so the two American girls arrived home footsore and triumphant after another day in the city.
Little Miss Sunshine
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