With fall break at the end of October, several of us decided that it was necessary to take the time off we had and gather together for a Thanksgiving-style dinner. One dish per person: that was the goal. With twelve of us coming, that meant a lot of food and a lot of work. For both M and I, this was the first time we'd ever hosted a Thanksgiving event, so naturally we wanted everything to be perfect. We tapped a lot of generational knowledge built up from years of watching our own families pull off such a feat. Respect to anyone who's ever had to do this.
We hawked the meat market for a turkey, the vegetable section for celery, and the various magazines for a decent dark beer. We started cooking 2 days in advance. M busted out an impressive 3 pies, including apple, peanut butter, and a laborious pumpkin pie from scratch. The twelfth of twelve dishes came off the stove top at exactly the right time. It was an impressive spread, if I do say so myself. A delicious and moist turkey, sausage/apple cornbread stuffing, pumpkin soup, stewed veggies, broccoli casserole, mac'n'cheese, glazed carrots, mashed potatoes with gravy, stuffed zucchini, a raspberry-pomegranate sauce, buttery bread, and a big tossed salad.
My actual service is going wonderfully. They say that the first year is hard for Americans. We so eagerly want to do that we lack the patience to build the connections necessary in this country for any sort of progress. Well, I've certainly been doing a lot of integrating and relatively little doing. My neighbors have started including me in their weekly dinner parties with their other young-couple friends. I went fishing with my language tutor, where I met his father and cousin. I celebrated some staff birthdays and the pizza joint. Slowly, I meet more and more people. Slowly, my Russian is shifting from forcing myself to listen to the noises to actually understanding them (and perhaps soon to participate in group conversation). Slowly, I'm becoming a part of this community.
Perhaps the most exciting development of all happened days after the 115th birthday of the city. My school forced me to perform a song for the town's birthday, where the guy running the lights mentioned me to the director of the House of Culture, who then encouraged the leader of a small men's ensemble to invite me to join. Since that day, I have been singing with him and his ragtag group consisting of a welder, student, security guard, and chef. It has been a huge step for my language skills and my community integration, but mostly it's just really wonderful to have a hobby and a group of friend's outside of my school and apartment. Concert in December!
Lastly, I leave you pictures of my culinary club boys, who were thrilled today to cook Russian crêpes.
