Thanksgiving is a dish best served cold

My experience of Thanksgiving this year was quite different than in other years.
Living in Paris, I spent my first Thanksgiving dinner not on American soil. I can't recall what I ate, but it was not the traditional fare to which I was accustomed. (Actually, it was all the more disappointing because the meal wasn't very good at all... foodie that I am.) Regardless, I still spent the day with other Americans who recognized, knew, and, more or less understood the holiday and its customs, meanings, and implications.
This year, I found myself in the unique experience of needing to explain the history and cultural meanings of Thanksgiving to my non-American friends and fellow students. It was an interesting conversation, as I realized that the meaning of the holiday has shifted profoundly over the years. More than that, I also began to come to terms with the initial implications of Thanksgiving in its historical context, and that this was, supposedly, a friendly meeting of cultures, a change from the misunderstandings, conflicts, violence that characterized the relationships between the native Americans and the Pilgrim populations. In light of my studies in globalization, cross-cultural meetings, and changing cultural expressions, this seems an interesting and (probably? possibly?) unique shared experience, which the non-native American population has adopted as a tradition of community, sharing, and, implicitly, of Christian brotherly love. Not that I have time now, but it would be interesting to look into how Thanksgiving became the cultural phenomenon that it did, because I doubt that it was a smooth transition from year to year, as seems to be the case with many holidays.
These conversations also reminded me of my strong feelings towards the cultural misunderstandings between these populations, and the ensuing demonization of difference and violence. This was certainly one of the many times I was not quite proud of my American citizenship and history. However, I still identify myself as American, and, while I may be embarrassed of and frustrated by the government that has stolen my vote and made me look like the idiot ambassador of a cruel self-important and self-interested nation, there are things about the country and nation that I do enjoy having as part of my identity. Though I may not like the history of traditions such as Thanksgiving, it has become a tradition dear to my heart, (perhaps especially thanks to delicious whole-berry cranberry sauce), and a tradition in my family. Hopefully, I think that by acknowledging and accepting the problems of the past, I can move myself forward from that past to create a new future.
On a related note, I spent the day after Thanksgiving enjoying a Thanksgiving meal with my friends Vivian and Dan. I tried to make the effort towards tradition, and got a turkey leg, though we had to cook it in a pan, which was too slow, and we didn't get a chance to eat it. It's the thought that counts, in these situations.

monument

This morning I had a lovely trek up all 311 steps of the generically-named 'monument', a memorial of the 1666 great fire of London. I was actually quite impressed that the column, designed by Christopher Wren, (who also designed Saint Paul's cathedral), stood at about 200 feet, the (supposed) measure of distance from the original starting point of the fire. (On an quaintly-adorable-English-note, but perhaps-inappropriate-in-this-case, the fire started on Pudding Lane.) To bring it back down to earth, a Latin inscription on one side of monument describes the actual severity of that fire in London's history:

"In the year of Christ 1666, the second day of September, eastward from hence, at the distance of two hundred and two feet, (the height of this column) about midnight, a most terrible fire broke out, which driven on by a high wind, not only wasted the adjacent parts, but also places very remote, with incredible noise and fury. It consumed 89 churches, the city gates, Guildhall, many public structures, hospitals, schools, libraries, a vastnumber of stately edifices, 13,200 dwelling-houses, 400 streets; of 26 wards, it utterly destroyed 15, and left 8 others shattered and half burnt. The ruins of the city were 436 acres, from the Tower by the Thames side, to the Temple church, and from the north-east gate along the city wall to Holborn bridge. To the estates and fortunes of the citizens it was merciless, but to their lives very favourable, that it might in all things resemble the last conflagration of the world.

"The destruction was sudden; for, in a small space of time, the same city was seen most flourishing, and reduced to nothing.

"Three days after, when this fatal fire had baffled all human counsels and endeavours in the opinion of all, as it were, by the will of Heaven, it stopped, and on every side was extinguished."

It's really remarkable that the fire did so so much damage. I can't recall having heard any description quite so realistic and horrible, perhaps also due to the poetic style of the inscription.

The view from the top was extensive and great, and it was wonderfully terrifying to stand on the edge of a relatively thin freestanding column. My courage paid off, though, when, safely back on the ground, we received certificates of acheivement. What a proud moment this was for me. ;)

The most comical part of this adventure was certainly the other visitors. Outside of monument, some English tourists talked with us about the interests at Camden market, assuming that we, too, were tourists, which I always think is amusing.

The best character in this comedy, though, was a little girl of about 6, who was climbing the stairs with her family; at her count of about 60 some stairs climbed, looked up and said, "Dammit, there's more stairs!"

Battersea Bliss

A few weeks back, some classmates and I went to visit the Battersea Power Station, a 36-acre enormous former turbine power station, built in the 30s but shut down in the 80s. They had an exhibition of Chinese art and film, most of which was really not very interesting. However, we'd wanted to go to see the space and to check out the building, which is normally not accessible. The wait was an hour and a half, but they'd provided bicycles for general use, so we took turns riding around the huge empty lot surrounding the power station, which was great fun. The exterior is impressive (check out these exterior views: ), but the interior is phenomenal; it's been almost entirely gutted, so you really get a sense of the enormity of the space. There are plans for the redevelopment of the space, because it's huge and beautiful and right on the river Thames, but all of us AA students loudly vocalized our disapproval the plans, to the annoyance of the other visitors.

Blogger

I never thought I would be able to categorize myself as a "blogger", and I will continue to refuse to do so despite having created a blog.
As an introduction, I feel it is appropriate to set up some ground rules for my blog.

• Firstly, I am fully aware that the web is publicly accessible, and anything I write on the web can be, sooner or later, found by anyone and everyone, read, scrutinized, analyzed, and judged. I am also aware that my words can be used against me, and this can be extremely detrimental. I therefore choose to be careful about what I say.
  
• I will aspire to create an interesting blog, both for myself to write and for anyone who actually cares to read it, consisting not of the details of my personal life and its gorey details, but my enterprises, experiences and experiments, adventures, trials, and probably even analyses.
  
• I will try to steer clear of pointless banter and gossip, and I will never bring up quasi-celebrities, their lives or relationships, or their offspring.
  
• I will try not to use "blog" as a verb, as it is not one.
  
• I will post photos.
  

This list is subject to amendment.
I should mention that my URL title I borrowed from Anais Nin (thanks to Julie for introducing me), and my blog title I borrowed from Karl Marx, (I feel so highfalutin, quoting Marx; really I just like the image).