Thanksgiving Dinner with my Second Family

One of the cons of being an expat is being far away from your family and the people you grew up with, the culture that defines you.

While it’s certainly a lot of fun learning a new culture and making new friends, there are moments when you’re just happy to be the old you, speak in your native tongue, and not have to keep on being all “When in Rome, do what Romans do” or explaining yourself to people, especially when it’s really hard to explain and translate.

Your people, they get you, even without you having to explain yourself. So when you find people from back home in your new home, it’s an instant connection, an instant friendship, an instant family.

This is what I found with my group of friends who all came from the same hometown. We call ourselves Little Zamboanga.

People died, including a hostage who was the father of a friend, a 2 year old boy who was hit on the head with a stray bullet, a mother who was cooking food to give to other people in her own house when mortar exploded and made a huge hole in her wall, and a politician who was mistaken for an enemy and shot by the military.

Banks, schools, and businesses were closed for the entire duration of the war, commercial plane flights to and from the city cancelled. But as I said in one of my previous blogs about that situation:

The truth is, it is not just those tied up people who have been held hostage by those terrorists, it is AN ENTIRE CITY. Nobody has been able to live a normal life since this situation arose.

Not just the people in the city who suddenly can’t go to school or go to work or withdraw money or buy medicines or groceries or prepaid cellphone load, but their loved ones abroad who can’t concentrate on work or sleep well at night from worrying about what might happen to those they left behind.

In fact yesterday while I was telling a couple of friends about this over lunch in a crowded pantry, we all started crying. I’ve been crying since Monday. I’ve been walking around with this literally painful heavy feeling in my heart.

Though I have many friends, none of them could possibly understand the struggle I went through during that period as I worried myself sick about the fact that my mother was back there. This was the part I meant about finding it hard to explain myself.

That is why I was extremely grateful that I had hometown friends here with me, hometown friends who knew exactly what I felt like because they went through the exact same emotions. As I said in a previous blog:

Yesterday, my Zamboanga friends based here gathered in one house so we could pray together and support each other amidst the ongoing crisis in our hometown. We watched the news and aired out our thoughts, and it was such a relief to be with people who knew exactly what we were going through, because we all felt that none of our other friends could understand us right now.

We even laughed as we shared all the ridiculous things we’ve been doing all week, which were all the same – constant checking of all news feeds (when we used to ignore the news before), being so distracted and short-fused, forgetting to eat, sporadic bursts of weeping in public places, the constant heavy lump of pain in the chest.

I was worried that I was overreacting, but hearing their stories made me feel a bit better about myself. (Just a bit.)

And so, when news broke that the war was finally over after 3 torturous weeks, we all rejoiced, and I suggested gathering once again for prayer, but this time for thanks.

They agreed, and the very next day, which was last Sunday, almost everyone brought pot luck food and gathered together at one of our apartments for an impromptu thanksgiving dinner slash birthday celebration for the September and October babies.

There was way too much food. While some people brought the store-bought kind (like I did, since I hate to cook), we did get some homecooked goodies like this indulsao made by Anne’s mom, which was a huge hit. So delicious! Brian said it reminded him of his mom’s cooking.

After a while, we were taken aback when Ervyn dimmed the lights. Like what is up, man? We’re still comparing lipsticks here! But then it turns out he did it for a reason – out came Mark with a cake and balloons for his wife Anne, who was celebrating her birthday the next week. Awww!

Anne also shared her cake with the September and October birthday celebrants – her sister Aiko, Jean, and… me!

The balloon shapes were kind of weird though, huh?

This thanksgiving is for God, who heard our prayers (and yours too, if you prayed for me, THANK YOU!!!!) and put an end to the war so we can lead normal lives again.

This thanksgiving is for the birthday celebrants whose best birthday gift was peace in their hometowns, and peace of mind for them.

But this thanksgiving is for, above all, the gift of second family. I am truly blessed to have these people in my life.

“Thank you once again to my Little Zamboanga family – yes, you are my second family. Know that we are here for you as you are always there for us, through happy & tough times. hugs to everyone! God bless us and our families!” -Anne on Instagram