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19

Nov

Life’s Changes on a Thanksgiving Tablecloth

by Janine Boylan on November 19, 2012

Table set with a Thanksgiving tablecloth showing a record of life's changes

Messages and memories are at the table
© Janine Boylan

Our Family’s Thanksgiving Tradition

Many years ago I spread a thick, gleaming white tablecloth on our Thanksgiving table, and, after dinner, passed around a permanent pen and asked everyone to write short notes of gratitude on the cloth next to their place.

Thanksgiving tablecloth with "Bats and Frogs", showing a record of life's changes

My son is grateful for “bats and frogs”
© Janine Boylan

Our First Messages

That year there were just five of us: Mom, Dad, my husband, my tiny son, and me.  My son was the first to accept the task. He scrawled “BATS AND FROOGS!” in his boxy uppercase letters.

My mom wrote where we were celebrating that year and what the weather was like. The rest of us took turns scribbling our brief sentences of gratitude for family and food.

The next day, I gently washed and folded the cloth, putting it away until the following year.

The Messages Grow and Change

During the tablecloth’s second Thanksgiving, Mom and I smiled as my son carefully wrote that he was grateful for his new baby sister.

The next year a dear friend passed the sweet potatoes and knocked dark red wine across the center of the white cloth. The year after that, next to the still-brown stain, she wrote she was thankful for second chances.

My toddler daughter very seriously explained her Morse-code-like lines and dots: “I love my dog Jack.”

Thanksgiving tablecloth, showing a thankful message in a record of life's changes

Important words give meaning to Thanksgiving
© Janine Boylan

After that, Thanksgiving grew to a larger family gathering, away from my house. Even though the tablecloth came every year, Mom never failed to greet me with, “Did you bring the tablecloth?”

One year we added that we were grateful for our new puppy.

A year later, we sadly shared that we missed our older dog Jack but were thankful for the times that we had with him.

A Record of Life’s Inevitable Changes

As I ironed the cloth one year, I noticed that the older notes were starting to fade a little, but Mom said, “Don’t worry about it—it’s all part of life’s changes!”

Then we had a big, unexpected change. Last year was the first Thanksgiving without Mom. I tucked the tablecloth into my suitcase as I went to share Thanksgiving away from home, but I couldn’t bear to bring it out. It didn’t seem right to have the tablecloth without Mom.

I tried again at Christmas. As I ironed the tablecloth and then carefully traced over some of the fading letters, I thought about all the glorious memories I had of her—planning and cooking meals, playing games, even washing dishes. After dinner, I wrote my note on the tablecloth about Mom, of course.

As long as I have this tablecloth, I will remember this Oh, I see moment about life’s inevitable changes, happy and sad. This year I may just write how I’m grateful for this no-longer-gleaming-white piece of cloth and all the special memories it has shared.

Thanksgiving tablecloth showing a record of life's changes including messages from young family members

Everyone writes, no matter what the age
© Janine Boylan

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Cultural Heritage & Traditions/USA

14

Nov

Cultural Traditions: A Muslim Thanksgiving

by Meredith Mullins on November 14, 2012

Senegalese boys washing horses in preparation for cultural traditions during Tabaski

Leading a horse to water
© Meredith Mullins

Are Ewe Ready for Senegal’s Tabaski?

The boys were washing their horse in the Atlantic Ocean, off the west coast of Africa. When it’s time for cleaning, go where the water is—a philosophy in so many countries where water is a treasure.

How could I resist wading out to join in? And, in so doing, I met a new group of Senegalese friends. Their smiles were genuine and they welcomed the opportunity for a cultural exchange.

The boys were hard at work getting their white horse a little whiter and brighter, because the festival of Tabaski was coming. They were also splashing around the refreshing water and soaking in warm sun just for fun. The villagers, all fishing people, constantly turn toward the sea for livelihood, lounging, and laughter.

Tabaski and Thanksgiving—More Alike Than You May Think

The excitement was tangible as the festival of Tabaski was near.

Senegalese girls dressed up for the cultural traditions of Tabaski

Pretty, but new dresses are coming for Tabaski
© Meredith Mullins

Tabaski is the Feast of Sacrifice or the Fête du Mouton (Feast of Sheep).

It is one of the most important Muslim holidays in Senegal, a day of sacrifice, forgiveness, food, and family—in remembrance of Abraham’s near sacrifice of his son.

It is similar to U.S. Thanksgiving, but, while Americans focus on turkeys, the Senegalese cultural tradition is centered on sheep.

The family must buy (or raise) a sheep, which is then slaughtered by the man of the house for the huge meal of the day that is shared by all the family. Everyone dresses up in new clothes, and children have permission to ask adult family and friends for a small gift of money.

The Festivities in Senegal

The markets are full of sheep as the festival draws near. More than 700,000 sheep are sold for this holiday. And prices sometimes skyrocket (as much as $900 for a prize ram), making the purchase of a sheep difficult for many families.

Sometimes, families save all year to be able to buy the Tabaski sheep. Many organizations donate sheep to poorer families since it is so important in the religion to sacrifice a sheep during this festival. And, Senegalese can try their luck with supermarket scratch off tickets for a chance to win a sheep.

Boys with a sheep preparing for the cultural tradion of Tabaski in Senegal

Caring for the Treasured Sheep
© Meredith Mullins

Sheep are so important that the most popular TV show in Senegal is the American-Idol style search for the most perfect sheep in Senegal (“Khar Bii”).

Often, the sheep stays with the family for the days before the festival, while the family sharpens knives just out of earshot, in anticipation of the slaughter. (The families respect the animal, so the slaughter is done as painlessly as possible.)

Welcoming a New Cultural Tradition

I had to leave Senegal before the festivities (and the sheep slaughter, thankfully), but I was there long enough to feel the depth of their cultural traditions and the warmth of their hospitality.

The Senegalese have an enviable confidence. They look at you straight from the soul, with pride and an unpretentious, unselfconscious “here I am.” And even though life is dusty and sparse, they live the word Teranga, which means welcome in Wolof.

Oh, I see . . . Teranga!

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Africa/Cultural Diversity/Cultural Heritage & Traditions/Senegal

22

Oct

Crossing Cultures Over an Artichoke

by Janine Boylan on October 22, 2012

Artichoke, illustrating a food known by some only when crossing cultures

Artichoke in a farmer’s market
© Janine Boylan

Food for Thought: What’s in a Name?

I saw this artichoke today at a local farm stand, and it provided some food for thought on crossing cultures.

I grew up eating artichokes. In fact, they have always been one of my favorite foods. Now I am fortunate to live near acres of artichoke fields. And I have learned that artichokes are delicious served marinated, barbecued, and, of course, deep fried. But my favorite is still simply steamed.

So when my friend and her husband came to visit from Australia, I had to cook artichokes. I thought of it as a bit of a cultural encounter.

I prepared the thistle flowers: pulling off the small, tough outermost leaves, trimming the top and stem, and then pruning each remaining pointed leaf just below its needle-sharp barb.

My friend and her husband both cautiously watched the progress as we all speculated how early people determined that these things were edible!

After the artichokes finished steaming in a giant pot, I pulled them out with tongs and placed one on each of their plates.

Unsure how to even begin to eat it, my friend watched me for clues. I talked her through carefully peeling a steaming leaf and scraping off the tender end. She hesitantly tried it and was pleasantly surprised by the taste.

She devoured the leaves until she had to pause for the thinner prickly purple leaves. I coached her through this phase of the artichoke.

And then I showed her how to carve off the odd thick fuzz to reveal the prize: the heart. She loved it all and wondered how she could get artichokes where she lived.

Her husband had been watching this process with raised eyebrows.

His artichoke sat untouched on his plate, and I found our why. His food for thought about this cultural encounter: “As a rule, I don’t eat anything with choke in its name.”

Oh, I see.

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Crossing Cultures/Language & Culture

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