Day 74-5: Turkey day

The clouds engulf the mountains beneath the nearly full moon, thick fluffy, dark, beautiful, as we walk quickly to La Cruz (the cross), known as the meeting spot in the city, familiar, but this time slightly different surroundings as we are walking from our newest couch surfing house, to be our fifth home in one week. Each place has had its own special perk, this one has many: very close to the zocalo, yet you can nearly reach the forest (with your hand, literally), a real backyard, we're talking grass here folks-like the real stuff, and a picnic table-I know, it's almost too much to handle, and a beautiful view of the city from the bedroom window. Walking past the quiet shops I realize I do not miss black friday back home (day after thanksgiving, blitz day, buy nothing day, an anti materialists hell).

Turkey Day
We woke up early enough to pack our stuff, take it to the peace house and get to the garden outside of the city by 9am. Roberto had stopped by the previous night to let us know it was time to move on out of the hotel. We of course spent our last night in our kingdom cooking tacos con papas, taking hot showers, and enjoying comfort. We spent 5 hours at the garden, pulling weeds, planting onions, seperating rediculous amounts of worms from soil, and talking with the 2 guys who work there. http://findingbirdsinforests.blogspot.com/2007/11/gracias-la-vida.html The garden is small and connected to a vegetarian organic restaurant in the city. Volunteers at the garden receive a free ticket to the lunch buffet, and so we had our (first) T-day feast. The second came in the form of a dinner party. The food, again vegetarian, was as far from a thanksgiving dinner as the house was from Mexican culture.

Although it was spent with near strangers, familiar feelings surounded me: being overly full and yet taking one more helping of my favorite dish (and then another), sipping wine over simple talk, taking turns getting stuck in conversations while trying to leave and an hour later you've said goodbye to the same person at least 3 times. And I am reminded of how traditions bring me home, keep me comfortable. But this year, unlike last, I do not pine for family or love or board games. I know I will be with it soon enough. I know I have TG dinners for the rest of my life, and I find comfort in the fancy condo rented by 3 Seattle writers, filled with travelers, with the only connection to TG being the heat from the oven and the sign on the door that says "Genocide - Poverty - Hunger - NO THANKS NO GIVING! What are you celebrating? Give thanks everyday"....an anti imperialist thanksgiving dinner.