How does an expatriate in London survive the end of November?
While I had difficulties around Halloween, Thanksgiving is not only one of my favorite holidays, but also a distinctly American one. That meant that I was on my own, aside from a small UCL function that sounded rather under-whelming. I was in a foreign country without a pilgrim decoration in sight and would probably be met with raised eyebrows if I mentioned the need to gorge myself on stuffing, sweet potatoes and pumpkin pie on a specific Thursday.
So I did what any self-respecting American would do when the going got tough: I fled. Deciding that being in a familiarly unfamiliar location on that fateful Thursday would only be depressing, I packed my bags and flew out to Istanbul (Get it? In Turkey for Thanksgiving? I crack myself up). I met a friend there who I've known for 13 years and happens to be studying in Rome. This was the closest to family I was going to get.
After flying into the small, rarely-used airport outside the city, I found myself faced with a three-hour journey involving buses, ferries, trams, bridges and hills to get to my hostel. But when I finally met my friend, I wasn't angry. I was exhausted but, uncharacteristically, not annoyed. I was in Istanbul. It was Thanksgiving. Why waste time getting upset?
We journeyed out into the city at 11 p.m. and found the restaurant that would host our Thanksgiving dinner. As we sat down, I, still pretty exhausted, tired and hungry, remembered why we were here. "Happy Thanksgiving Nick," I panted.
"Happy Thanksgiving guys!" two girls at the adjacent table interjected. A short conversation revealed they were originally from Hawaii and had a similar idea. Guess I'm not as clever as I thought, eh?
What followed was the most unorthodox, but possibly the best Thanksgiving weekend ever. Our Thanksgiving dinner was chicken kebab, stuffed grape leaves, fries and apple tea. We went shopping on black Friday in the Grand Bazaar, which was apparently no more crowded than usual.
And on Saturday night, with the weekend winding down, Nick and I were taking in the vibrant nightlife of the city and talking about our experiences abroad, what we've learned and how we've changed (see: me not being angry), when something dawned upon us: This was the first Thanksgiving that we were genuinely, truly thankful.
Suddenly, I realized how much I've grown this semester. How much my eyes have been opened by my travels, how much I've begun to toss aside some of the less desirable parts of my personality and work on the good ones, how much I'm not the same person who stepped on the Virgin Air jet only months ago.
And most importantly, I thought about how insanely lucky I was to have this opportunity.
I can't expand on this now, but seriously, if you want to hear more, feel free to contact me. If not, at least listen to this: Go abroad. Unless it is financially impossible or your major 100 percent (and I mean 100 percent) forbids it, go abroad.
It doesn't matter if the classes you take aren't as challenging. As cliché as it sounds, the education you'll get is far more important than what you learn in the classroom. Don't get me wrong: I love Tufts and what I've learned there and how I've matured. But those past two years don't hold a candle to these past three months, living in another country and hopping around Europe.
And I get another five months of this next year. Now that's something to be thankful for.
Devin Toohey is a junior majoring in classics who is studying abroad in London. He can be reached at Devin.Toohey@tufts.edu
