Memories of a Thanksgiving Day, Filipino-style
MANILA, Philippines - Thanksgiving Day is the United States’ most celebrated homegrown holiday, happening on the fourth Thursday of November. After Thanksgiving Day is “Black Friday,” during which Americans go out on a shopping spree because that is when retail prices of goods and things are marked down from 50 to 75 percent off, but that’s another story.
Anyway, the main reason why Americans regard this holiday as so important is because it is a way for them to reunite with their loved ones and enjoy a hefty meal along with endless football games on TV, not to mention the annual Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade that showcases floats and marching bands. This idea for family reunion or bonding is similar to how Filipinos celebrate All Saints Day or Undas when most of us head to our respective provinces to be with relatives — but minus the shopping, the turkey and other festivities — and instead be in the cemetery to visit our dead.
So what is Thanksgiving? To Filipinos, especially immigrants like me who are asked, we would say it’s a feast that includes consuming a carved-up turkey. Little do most Filipinos know that Thanksgiving is a holiday that celebrates the early history between Native-Americans (also know as Indians) and the Pilgrims. Based on what I learned from my teachers in the States, the holiday pays homage to the survival of the Pilgrims from their first New England winter season in the 1600s. The Pilgrims migrated to the United States from England and Holland because they were badly treated by their respective governments, mostly because of their religious beliefs. Two centuries later, then US President Abraham Lincoln proclaimed Thanksgiving Day as a holiday with its first celebration on Nov. 26, 1863. Now that you know its history, let’s talk turkey.
After I experienced my first Halloween way back 2002, I began to acclimatize myself with American celebrations. Although Halloween did not count as a holiday in America, it was regarded as a cultural tradition, especially in our city, Salem, Massachusetts. Its city folks and other neighboring towns or cities, including Bostonians, converge for a daylong, often nighttime revelry in outlandish, horrifying or scary costumes. As the month of November approached, I remember when my mom Dette informed me of an upcoming holiday that Americans celebrate every year, and that it was a big deal for them. I thought it was Christmas! But I was wrong.
My mom (who has stayed there since 1989) taught me how Thanksgiving Day was celebrated, and she started mentioning food. Americans prepare the cranberry sauce, any type of casserole, mashed potatoes, pecan pies with vanilla ice cream, and the one thing that is crucial and the food that you can never celebrate Thanksgiving Day without — the turkey! In our conversations, she mentioned unlimited football games on television and the annual Macy’s Thanksgiving parade. As a growing teenager, 13 years old then to be exact, I started to feel the excitement for the upcoming holiday because it was a new holiday for me... and for the food!
On Thanksgiving eve, my mom and I went to celebrate with her Filipino friend who lived 10 minutes away from Boston. My mom prepared a scrumptious turkey. By the look of things, my mother cooked herself haggard, as she struggled to put the stuffing inside the turkey. As the only son present, I gave her a hand and as I was helping her with the fixings; I couldn’t help but savor the smell of the turkey. It was a nostalgic aroma of a whole chicken from Max’s, or so I thought. Only five times bigger! As a proud cook of the family that my mom is, she also prepared lumpiang Shanghai, bulalo, leche flan, and of course, rice. Thanksgiving Day had finally come!
Before we started feasting on the food we prepared, we prayed for all the blessings that God had given us, for the food, and for life itself. It was an American tradition that the father of the family is the first to carve the turkey. In our case, though, my mom voluntarily took the carving knife and did her thing. For a moment, I thought to myself that the turkey looked really tasty from the outside. But when my mom served me a slice of the turkey leg, it did not taste like the Max’s chicken that I thought of or imagined. In short, I tasted it and didn’t like it. The meat didn’t show any promise because it looked gray and bland, though it tasted a little like lechon. It would have been a plus if it was lechon, but it wasn’t. Other than the turkey, the pecan pie, the stuffing and the cranberry sauce were good. But my mom’s bulalo was my favorite. For my mom, it was nothing personal that only she and her friend ate the turkey and I didn’t because she wasn’t expecting me to like it anyway. She just wanted to show me what a turkey looks like and expose me to a whole new point of view of the holiday.
Years passed and we celebrated Thanksgiving Day differently. My brothers Enrique and Raffy came to the States and lived with us, and they, too, did not like the turkey! We preferred Filipino food over the traditional Thanksgiving menu because we grew up eating and liking them, and our mom knew that such food will not go to waste. Mom prepared kare kare, sinigang, pinakbet and other Filipino food for Thanksgiving.
Before celebrating Thanksgiving, I took some time off and went to high school football games because it was a tradition back in Salem that our football team matches up with the rivaling town Beverly. It was an annual tip-off where the teams play the game to the fullest and whoever wins get the bragging right for a year. Sadly, for the six years that I’ve lived in the States, our team did not win a rivalry game. But it was fine because, after the game, it was time to eat up.
Thanksgiving Day is a special holiday not only because of the turkey, the football games or other traditional events; it pays homage to our accomplishments in life that we share with family and friends. For all the years I had the chance to celebrate Thanksgiving, I was thankful for having the opportunity to experience an American tradition, and for all the blessings I’ve received while in the States. Though I will always be thankful for the life I’ve been living so far — good and bad — I’m happy. Also, I’m thankful that I’m surrounded by people who continue to inspire me on a daily basis. In general, I don’t think we need a holiday just to be thankful. Rather, we need to thank God every single day that we’re alive.
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Jaime T. Campos is a sophomore Journalism student of the Faculty of Arts and Letters, University of Santo Tomas.
