Thanksgiving 2013!

When I was told I would be placed in Asella and live there for the next two years, I was not informed of a key Asella tradition I would be responsible for continuing. The pervious three Thanksgivings, the volunteers in Asella have thrown a holiday party for all the local volunteers and friends. Last year, I was in Addis for a training and had to miss out on the fun. This year, I decided to throw caution to the wind and host my first Thanksgiving ever. That meant cooking a (hopefully) delicious meal for somewhere between 10 and 100 people (the final number was somewhere around 25 people).

While I would like to take all the credit, I had a lot of help. And by help, I mean I recruited people who are WAY more skilled at this sort of thing than me to do most of the work as I ran around and helped with anything they needed. I was everyone’s sous chef at best. But the two-day extravaganza was a success and everyone seemed to have a good time (in other words, ate to the point of nausea- the ultimate Thanksgiving goal).

The Wednesday before, everyone arrived in Asella and settled in. That evening, we went to a local park/bar/hotel/café/restaurant/theater called Universal for dinner and a show. After a round of steak sandwiches and grilled cheeses, we went into the theater that had been rented out for our purposes. Unfortunately, it took a little while to get the movie and drinks ready. But if there is one thing Peace Corps Volunteers are good at, it is killing time. Someone brought equipment for woofle ball, and since it was pretty cold outside, we just played inside. It turned into batting practice with everyone taking a turn. And god bless Ethiopia, the management just shook their heads and laughed.

Leslie's strange intimidation tactic

Hammered it!

There was a lot of discussion about what movie would be best for this situation. But while many movies were mention, in all of our hearts, we knew what movie it had to be. We all nestled into our seats, a fellow volunteer announced the drinking game rules, and we all prepared for one of the greatest films of our time: Sharknado.  It was everything we wanted it to be. The film provided great commentary about some of today’s biggest issues: man vs. nature, mankind's humanity, and whether a chainsaw works inside of a shark (it does).  But the film left us all burning with questions. The only logical thing to do was have a Q&A after the viewing.

The photo is a little unclear, so allow me to introduce our esteemed panel: (from the left) the director of the film, actress Tara Reid, and finally the executive producer.

The audience asked thought provoking questions like what was the film really saying about humanity, and how could Tara Reid and Ian Ziering have a child in its mid-twenties. The chairs used are normally only used for weddings. And since I am not entirely sure how weddings work in this country, these three may now be married.

The next day, there was work to be done since people actually wanted to eat, but that didn’t exactly stop the shenanigans. The first thing we had to do was pick up the goat and the beer, which conveniently fit into one Bajaj.

Our bajaj driver Addis is such a good sport

At around 2:00, everyone came over. It was a fun relaxing time that somehow felt like Thanksgiving back home. People played games, threw around a football, and just enjoyed each other's company. The afternoon was great- for everyone but the goat.

I’ve posted slaughter pictures before so that seems unnecessary. But there was a unique aspect to this goat. Months before Thanksgiving, fueled by whiskey and ego, my sitemate Leslie made the bold claim that because she is from Oklahoma, she could skin a goat. Abel laughed at her and said it was impossible. Thus, a slap bet was born. The idea was that if she skinned it successfully, she got to punch him in the face. If she failed, he got to slap her. I tried to tell Abel that he was too good of person to slap a girl. As slap bet commissioner, I ruled he would be allowed the transfer the slap if desired.

Leslie did a lot of research about how to skin a goat. She watched youtube videos and called her uncle (apparently a real Oklahoman). She was prepared to do it and quite confident, until she actually saw the goat. She made the mistake of talking to it and looking in its eyes. She lost some confidence but still believed that she could do it. After all, she was not responsible for killing it, just skinning it. The moment of truth came, and she made a great go of it.

Her face says it all

She went elbow deep in that thing, but ultimately, she was not able to skin it alone. I was impressed how well she actually did. As slap bet commish, I ruled that the bet was a draw, no one deserved to be slapped. But Leslie wouldn’t hear of it and told Abel to slap her. As foretold, Abel is too much of a gentleman and as Leslie braced for impact, he just gave her a pat on the cheek.

As mentioned, I had to recruit a lot of help. Abel and another friend Tilahun took care of preparing the goat. They broke down the animal and cooked it to perfection. They used something like a giant wok and prepared it all outside. First they melted down some of the fat to use as oil, and then they added the meat, onions, garlic, ginger, beer, and tons of spices. 

And don’t be fooled because it looks like a fellow PCV is helping them. After sitting there with a knife for a while, they gave him the “important” task of keeping the cat away.

The usual silliness occurred as the goat was being prepared. This time, Leslie and I made up a new game called “ball chicken”. I’m not going to explain it if you can’t figure it out.

In the kitchen, I helped Lisa prepare the other dishes. She is an amazing cook and made the (I’m going to guess) biggest pan of eggplant parmesan Ethiopia has ever seen.

In the late afternoon, everything was ready and we sat down to eat wherever we could find space. Whether they were sarcastic or not, I appreciated the oooo’s and ahhhh’s as we took the foil off of everything. In all, we had goat, eggplant parmesan, mashed potatoes and gravy, stuffing two ways, and two different baked vegetable dishes. During dinner, everyone went around and said what they were thankful for. Some were more colorful than others, but the overall sentiment was everyone felt thankful for each other and that even though we're so far away from our families, we could still feel at home during the holiday.

Dessert was a team effort. Lisa made a peanut butter chocolate cake masterpiece. My friend Kristen and I made a few pumpkin pies. And a fellow PCV, Jackie, brought banana bread and a ridiculous chocolate pecan pie. Sadly, during her bus ride, the cake melted so it was a sticky mess. Since Ethiopian tradition dictates that feeding people just means you care about them, I went for it. As people came up to grab dessert, I spooned the melted pie in their mouths. I think everyone partook and since it is almost a month later, I guess no one was sick. The kids kept sneaking up to get another bite from me and while the adult in me knew it was a bad idea, I just kept giving them more and more (I did apologize to their parents for their sugar high and inevitable crash as they were leaving)

As I said, I played a minor role in this all. Lisa was an amazing cook. Abel and Tilahun killed it (pun intended) with the goat. Abel also offered up his home for this occasion. Jackie’s desserts were outrageous. Leslie made eight pounds of mashed potatoes by hand. Ultimately, the holiday turned into exactly what it is meant to be: everyone coming together from far a wide to celebrate the day and reflect how much we all have to be thankful for.

Sadly, by the time we thought to take a picture, just the forenjis and Abel were left