Thanksgiving: Mbita Style

Thanksgiving is hands down my favorite holiday. It’s one of the few holidays we have left that is not overly commercialized. I actually thank Christmas for overshadowing Thanksgiving because while all the marketeers are focusing on Christmas starting November 1^st, its little brother gets to slip by without all the glitz and glamour. Sure, you can think of it at the stereotypical American holiday: a day when we stuff our gullets with overly rich food and celebrate a day when the native people saved the white man from starvation only to be brutally run off their land. But I like to think of what it most currently represents: a day to come together with your family and friends to give thanks for all your blessings.

This Thanksgiving was a bit untraditional for me. No family around. No other Americans even. No days off work. No free turkeys in the grocery store if you buy a certain amount of groceries. But that didn’t stop this little American from recreating her favorite holiday in her little hide-away-town in Kenya. Oh no, she did it up right. With a crowd of over 30 people: Kenyans, a couple Brits, a couple Dutchman, a Swede, and my favorite little German roommate.

After starting off with a 7-hour work day, I ran home to start peeling and mashing potatoes, layering sweet potatoes with butter and cinnamon, rolling out pie crust,  etc. We had the works: turkey, homemade gravy, stuffing, pumpkin pie, pecan-turned-walnut pie. A can of cranberry sauce even made a surprise guest appearance compliments of a new British arrival!

Yummm.... gravy. 

Everything was a bit “thrown together”. Pies were baked in pots; several precious minutes were spent running back and forth between my house and a neighboring house that harbored a small oven, things like evaporated milk were replaced by whatever milk could be found, and dishes were borrowed from half a dozen friends and neighbors. Friends also chipped in by bringing a couple chickens, a precious pumpkin, and of course ugali (a traditional Kenyan dish of maize meal that no Kenyan in his right mind could go to bed without eating). In just under 7 hours, we had a traditional Thanksgiving feast adorning our dining room table.

There's no room! People are spilling out the door!

And then the guests starting trickling in…. 2….4…. 10… 20… 25…. 30! I stopped counting at 30. Our little living room was packed with people. And what better to do with a couple dozen people who don’t know each other and have come together to celebrate a foreign holiday? ICEBREAKERS! Uh huh oh yeah Big Booty! That’s right, after a quick round of introductions, we broke the ice with the one and only icebreaker that I remember from my college days: Big Booty.

Big Booty 101: All participants stand in a circle; one person is designated as “Big Booty” and the others count off. The “Big Booty” song is sang to start off the round and then people have to call out their number and the number of another person who in turn then repeats their number and calls on another number and so on and so forth. The key is you have to remember your number and keep with the rhythm of the song…. Otherwise YOU become the “Big Booty”.

So at some point we had nearly 30 people, embarrassed out of their minds, clapping and singing out…

Ahhhhh Big Booty, Big Booty, Big Booty

Uh huh, oh yeah, Big Booty

Big Booty – Number 7

Number 7 – Number 12

Number 12 – Number 4….

Once our guests were thoroughly convinced they had wandered into a nut house, we again went around the circle and gave our thanks and started stuffing our gullets. And just as people began to think they were safe again… the dance lessons returned.

Sabina insisted on showing off the box waltz that I had taught her, followed by a bit of limbo, a congo line, and a touch of salsa. Then came my lesson in “Kiuno” compliments of Lindah.

Lindah: “Kiuno  means ‘waist’, so this dance is all about your waist. You gotta warm up your kiuno first, then you have to show me the force of your kiuno.”

I’m sure you can just visualize Lindah, smoothly showing off the force of her kiuno, as the little white American girl awkwardly pretends she has a kiuno to show off!

Me showing off the pie that will hopefully add to my African "kiuno"

Fortunately, the Kenyan Cowboy, Craig, came to the rescue with yet another dance to teach me: the Mbita Shuffle. Finally with a dance that acknowledges that these two white dancers don’t really have a kiuno or a “Big Booty” to flaunt, we kick and spin our way through the Mbita Shuffle.

When the laughter and dancing finally starts dying down, when the pies are demolished, when the eyelids start to droop, when the guests start trickling out, I finally sit down for what I think might be the first time all day. And I am eternally thankful.

 The German, the American, and the Dutchman

I am thankful for having the opportunity to be in this beautiful place, learning from another culture and sharing my own. I am thankful for silly dance lessons and for fresh pumpkin. I am thankful that even when my family is far far away, I am surrounded by loving, laughing people.  I am thankful for my dear roommate, Eva. Am thankful for you.