"TUR-KEY"

With all of the BIG changes in our lives as of late, I had all but put the notion of Thanksgiving and Christmas out of my head. We have learned so much, but we are still trying to adjust completely to life in Africa. Over the past few weeks our family has developed a catch phrase, “Its just Africa, move on.”

It is so very hot here right now. There is no air conditioning so we feel every, single degree. As the numbers on the thermometer climb, so does our lack of enthusiasm to celebrate Thanksgiving away from family.  We had all but decided we were going to let this Thursday slip by without letting the boys know what a special day it is, then we walked into the store today.

As we entered we were overcome by Holiday atmosphere. Although, they do not celebrate Thanksgiving here the workers at this particular store had done their best to bring Christmas to Lesotho. It was so sweet. A bit overdone and entirely African, save for the very Anglo elderly gentleman dressed in inappropriate seasonal attire! Before I knew what had hit me, I found myself looking for turkey. I asked one man behind the meat counter, and he eagerly took me to the drink aisle after repeating, “tur-key,” back to me 3-4 times.

I could tell something had been lost in translation, so I turned to the two men from a younger generation thinking they surely would understand me better. I asked for turkey, and they again repeated it back to me perfectly. Then shared a blank stare with each other. We did this for a while I said, “Turkey,” they repeated it back to me slowly, “TURRRR-KEY.” Yes! I thought they finally had it then the smiles began to fade. Finally one of the young men said, “Spell it.” So I did, “T-U-R-K-E-Y.” Ah… “Turkey,” they said in unison then promptly started leading me away from where I knew the meat was and toward where I knew the bakery was. I thought to myself, “Perhaps they stuff their turkeys inside of their bread here. I’ve seen stranger things in the last couple of weeks.”

After we got to the bakery, I informed them once more that I wanted meat, an animal. Desperate now because I was beginning to lose control of both my shopping trip as well as my four boys, I began to gobble. Yep, that is right. I gobbled, and I am pretty sure I flapped my arms as well, and put my finger to my throat. The light bulbs went on!!!! The two young Basotho men both, almost in a run, led me back to the meat and eagerly pointed to a mess of chopped up frozen, poultry they insisted was, “Tur-KEY!” I asked for a few kilos of the meat from the same man, who several minutes ago had thought turkey was a drink and went on my way.

I later asked my language helper about what had transpired at the market and she informed me that most Basotho would have never seen a turkey. They would only know about them from American movies.

So we will have turkey on Thursday! Our Thanksgiving this year may not look or feel like any we have ever had before, but we are so thankful for a simple shopping trip that reminded us just how important it is to be thankful, amidst the most frustrating and confusing moments of our lives. I have no idea what our Thanksgiving dinner will look like, but I have never, ever been more thankful to have some turkey in my entire life. Thank you, Jesus.