Ten Things You Can Do on Friday (Instead of Going Shopping)

English: DC USA, Best Buy, Black Friday

For those who live in the United States, it’s that time of the year again — that time where one day we gather, thankful for all that has been given us, basking in the warmth of family, friends, and food. And the next, we beat down our fellow-man, mobbing our way into stores to earnestly shop for that which we don’t need.

For those from other parts of the world, the day after Thanksgiving is called ‘Black Friday’. It’s a day that begins the night of Thanksgiving as employees are called away from their celebrations to ready themselves and their stores for the onslaught of shoppers. These shoppers will begin their quest for more material goods right when Cinderella loses her shoe and turns back into a scullery maid – the stroke of midnight.

I’m harsh. Yes – I think ‘Black Friday’ deserves harsh. I don’t think there is anything redeeming about this day and none of us are the better for it. And I can honestly say, I’ve never gone shopping on Black Friday. It just isn’t worth it.

So here are some thoughts on what we can do instead of going shopping. Please add your own to the list through the comments!

  1. Bring out that one thousand piece jigsaw puzzle that’s sitting in your closet and complete it while drinking hot cider and enjoying leftover turkey sandwiches.
  2. Write letters – yes, paper and pen letters – to three people you care about. Why three? It’s a random number but paper and pen letters are collectibles these days. Imagine the look on your friend’s or relative’s face as they go to the mail box and see a handwritten envelope. Pure shock and delight.
  3. Make homemade granola to give as gifts to people. Here are a couple of recipes you can try. Homemade granola is a great gift and the bonus is that you can keep some for yourself.
  4. Sort through a couple of closets. Christmas is coming and clutter needs to go. Get into those closets and sort, get rid of, throw away. The catharsis is unbelievable.
  5. Watch the Anne of Green Gables series on Netflix. Or Call the Midwife, or Downton Abbey. Something that will keep you immersed in stories and dreams.
  6. Go hiking – put on sensible shoes (I say this because I don’t always do that) and find some hiking trails or take a long walk in the woods. Perhaps you’re like me and you need to drive to find hiking trails- then drive and walk all that energy that would have been used getting more of what you don’t need. Take a thermous of hot cocoa with you and some sandwiches in case you get hungry.
  7. Clean – God knows our houses need it! We’ve just had Thanksgiving and food and stuff are everywhere. So take out dust pan, broom,and duster and channel your energy into creating a haven of clean.
  8. Call your mom. Call your Grandma. Call your Aunt. Use the time to reconnect with others who are escaping the frenetic pace of Black Friday. Then bake bread – Holy, life-giving bread.
  9. Play games: Boggle, Guesstures, Bananagrams, Taboo, Settlers of Catan. So many choices, perhaps some you’ve never opened. Take them out and play games.
  10. Use the day to just rest and read. Jhumpa Lahiri has a new book out: The Lowlands, a sad but good read. The Best Christmas Pageant Ever is a fabulous little book that will be a family favorite I guarantee. Curl up into a ball on the couch and read, read, read. Let the kids play on the floor beside you – Through a sheet over your dining room table and they have a ready-made tent where they can spend the day imagining. And you? You’ll sit and read and relax and bask in all things good, all things calm.

This is a simple list. But isn’t it time we changed this cultural norm and took back the Friday after Thanksgiving?

Readers from other countries – I’m curious! When you hear about our Black Friday, what do you think? How would you advise us to live on that day? And Readers from the U.S. – what about you? What would you add to the list? What do you plan to do on the Friday following Thanksgiving?

Beyond the Window at Fish’s Eddy

Those of you who are regular readers of Communicating Across Boundaries know that we go from provocative to poignant to profound quickly in any given week. This week is no exception — today we move away from TCK’s into a totally different arena with more glimpses of New York City in this post by Stef. 

I’ve now lived in New York City for two years. In urban settings beauty doesn’t always come naturally – you have to look for it. Sometimes it comes in the form of a building, other times through a shop window.

For months I passed by one of these shop windows. I would peek into the window on my way to Union Square and promise myself that one day, when I wasn’t in a hurry, I would stop in. That shop is Fish’s Eddy.

When my parents came to visit me for Thanksgiving, I finally got a real peek at the store I was so fond of.

I went beyond the window.

Fish’s Eddy is a gorgeous pottery store. Gorgeous doesn’t begin to describe it. Every inch is covered with jars, plates, bowls, cups, platters, etc. The shapes, colors, and textures are charming in every way. There are plates with crossword puzzles on them, platters with bridges spanning the length of the dish, coasters in the shape of artist’s palettes, and more. The pictures below don’t do the store justice, but let’s just say my future home will be full of Fish’s Eddy dishware.

It’s also a reminder that sometimes I need to slow down to see what’s beyond the window. 

Take a look at the wonder of Fish’s Eddy through these pictures.

Fish's Eddy - cups, teapots Fish's Eddy - Hands Fish's Eddy - hanging cups Fish's Eddy - Vintage China Fish's Eddy -Close up of cups

How Do I Live out Sunday Rest in my Monday Chaos?

With the sweet taste of communion bread still on my tongue I curse Monday morning. How can this be? How can I so quickly forget Sunday’s rest and grace as I step into the day after?

There is always a Monday after. It might not be the literal day, but there is always a Monday after. Whether it be a big event, a transformative experience, a high from a retreat – reality comes after with its sharp teeth and caustic tongue.

What use is Sunday if it doesn’t translate to Monday morning? 

If my calling ignores Mondays then it is of little use. If the clarity of Sunday cannot be applied to the muddy waters of Monday then how can I live effectively?

In a book called Finding Calcutta, the author Mary Poplin, takes a journey to Calcutta to work with Mother Theresa for two months. Through service she discovers a Christianity that she had never experienced before and her heart is changed. But her struggle comes with finding her own Calcutta once she is back in the United States. How can this experience be translated into her work? Her life? She is at a university, not in the slums; surrounded by grey cells and academics, not by nuns; committed to students and learning, not the poor and starving. Yet she was called to apply the same principles to her work that Mother Theresa applied in her calling by God to the poor. Mary was called to translate her Sunday moments into her Monday work.

Memorial plaque dedicated to Mother Teresa by ...

“Find the sick, the suffering and the lonely right there where you are. . . . You can find Calcutta all over the world, if you have the eyes to see.” –Mother Teresa

I don’t know much today – but I know I am called to translate Sunday into Monday – I am called to remember the sweet taste of communion bread, the body and the blood, as I move forward into the work of today. I am called to seek God in the details, to understand that nothing is beyond the redemptive work of God, to ‘find the sick, suffering, and lonely’ hidden behind grey government cubicles, to live out Sunday in this Monday.

How do you live out Sunday rest in your Monday chaos?

The Little Church Around the Corner

We were walking back from a bookstore in NYC where the motto is “18 miles of books” when our daughter said “I have something special to show you! It’s less  than a block from here.” We had already walked over 45 city blocks on this crisp day after Thanksgiving – what was a half block out of our way?

We took a right on 29th Street just off 5th Avenue and immediately knew this was something special. A beautiful little church sat there – away from crowds and chaos, beautiful and hallowed. We walked into a small sanctuary with old benches facing the cross and altar and beautiful windows and woodwork carvings all around, but there was more. Walking up to the front and taking a sharp left we found ourselves in a tiny chapel, set apart and empty. A prayer kneeler stood at the front with the Book of Common Prayer lying open. Stained glass windows reflected the light offering a glimpse of another world.

It was perfect. As close to perfect as we can find in this world.

Someone had told our daughter about it – said that it was the ideal place to come to sort out thoughts and ask for peace when the city feels too overwhelming, too distracting, too much. She was right. 

It was difficult to remember that the Empire State Building was a block away, that millions of people lived and worked steps from this place, that here in this massive chaos that is New York City there is a place of such visible peace.

When life feels too overwhelming, too distracting, too much —  it’s important to know where to go to sort it all out. When we need to catch a vision and live life above the noise and beyond the crowds, when we need a “slipping away in a boat on the Galilee” moment, where do we go? Can we find a place that offers respite and quiet? A sanctuary where we can hear God?

This is what I long for this season – to find places of quiet that remind me of what Advent is and how I am called to live. A little church around the corner to offer a glimpse of another world. A place and space set apart offering me the eternal even as the temporal calls so insistently.

Today and through this season, may you find your little church around the corner, your space and place of peace that offers you rest and comfort — an invitation to set aside what seems urgent and spend time on what is it important.

Re-post – Earnestly Looking For Something I Don’t Need – Black Friday Comes Again

It comes around like turkey and pumpkin pie. It’s as consistent as Thanksgiving itself. It begins promoting itself weeks before it actually happens. “It” is Black Friday. And while this is a re-post from last year I mean every word of it. For those of you who are not American– materialism is multicultural, we’ve just perfected and packaged it in ribbon and shiny paper in the west so I beg you to not judge too harshly.

DJ industrial average 1929 Black Friday
Image via Wikipedia

I ran into a store a few days ago with a specific item in mind to buy. I quickly found the area of the store and the right size and began narrowing down the decision. As I looked up from my task,I caught the eye of a woman across from me. She hesitantly smiled and shook her head.  “I am earnestly looking for something I don’t need!” She exclaimed “But isn’t this cute?

“Earnestly looking for something I don’t need”. What a great and descriptive phrase! She’d probably wandered in off her lunch hour and the more she looked the more earnest she became. How do I know this so well? Because I’ve been there too many times to count. Those times when I wander in, knowing full well I don’t need anything, but how can I not get something with a 25% Friends and Family coupon burning in my hand? It’s getting hotter just waiting to be used on the thing that I don’t need.

And that my friends is Black Friday. Millions of people earnestly looking for something they don’t need. I rarely break out in judgement the way this will sound, but if Black Friday isn’t a picture of a schizophrenic society, I don’t know what is. A society that on the one hand worries about unemployment, personal budgets, and the economy, while the other hand is earnestly looking for something it doesn’t need.

A society holding its money close, for fear it won’t have enough to pay for that which it doesn’t need.

I am the first to fall in this area. For years I would bring home things that languished in closets or drawers, but I had picked them out so earnestly that I couldn’t admit that I didn’t need them.

I am sure that some people find this fun. Some people love the excitement of standing in line at midnight with their lattes and pillows. They bond with the crowd, until there’s someone who cuts in line and the bond is quickly broken with a curse and shove. At that point it could begin to resemble Tahrir Square. They bond until they are both fighting over the same 52″ flat screen TV selling for mere pennies. It will replace the 40″ flat screen TV that they got a year ago at a Black Friday event. They bond until someone is killed in the stampede, trampled to death from people earnestly looking for something they don’t need.

Interesting that this day should follow one of America’s favorites — a day devoted to thanks.

A national holiday specifically set aside to give thanks, to remember. What happens between pumpkin pie with whipped cream and midnight, when our base nature breaks out and we pummel the pavement in search of stuff?

So – I’m finished. I will say no more about Black Friday. But I will post this right when Black Friday begins, at the stroke of midnight, to remind myself that as I earnestly look for something I don’t need, I’m completely missing all that I have.

And with that…A Happy Black Friday to you. May you earnestly find that which you are looking for or may you rest in the U2 song “But I still haven’t found what I’m looking for~” 

Live from the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade I Wish You a Happy Thanksgiving!

We’re here where it all happens! The heart of Manhattan and Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. It is a bucket list idea come true as we squeeze in tight with people we don’t know and strain our heads to see the parade. It is so fun … We’re talking to total strangers, screaming at celebrities, and shouting at floats! Awesome!

Many of you who read Communicating Across Boundaries are not from the United States so let me explain what the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade is. For 86 years, in the heart of New York City, the Macy’s store has sponsored a huge parade complete with amazing floats, musical performances, dance, and marching bands. This is considered the beginning, the “kick-off” to use an idiom, of the holiday season. Over 3 million people gather in New York (yes, that would be us this year!) and over 50 million watch the parade on television, safe and warm in their homes while sipping eggnog….theoretically at least.

Growing up overseas, I knew only peripherally about the parade but now that we spend Thanksgivings in the United States it has become a fun and favored family tradition to watch it on television while turkey bastes in the oven. We are not football people (another peculiar American event) but we sure love the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade!

We arrived last night, surviving the day-before-Thanksgiving traffic that tries the patience of the most patient among us. A breakdown of our car in the parking lot of a grocery store in the morning had us anxious that we wouldn’t be able to follow through with these well-made and anticipated plans, but with the aid of our amazing Chinese mechanic, the trusty PT Cruiser pulled through. My daughter Stefanie’s apartment is the perfect location – 3rd floor of the Herald Towers so we have only steps to walk to see the action.

As I watch I bring you these photos live from the parade! Enjoy and wherever you are – may you know the amazing miracle of thanks and the satisfaction of a grateful heart.20121122-095345.jpg20121122-095527.jpg20121122-095955.jpg20121122-100035.jpg20121122-100359.jpg20121122-100344.jpg20121122-095252.jpg

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How Do I Eat Turkey With a Side Dish of Conflict?

Turkey doesn’t taste very good when the side dish is conflict. Any family knows that. If someone walks away from the table angry or offended, the turkey sits, rock solid, at the pit of our stomachs. We nervously drink water or wine, laugh uneasily, and our lips get dry. “Pumpkin pie, anyone?” says the peacemaker, known by some as that family member in denial.

But no one wants pumpkin pie and the holiday is suddenly tainted.  

This year turkey comes with conflict. Not family conflict but conflict across the world – ancient conflict that seems never to have resolution. Both sides post pictures of dead and wounded children. Both sides scream foul. Both sides feel justified. Both sides lose. 

And food sits solid, and my mouth goes dry, and my heart pounds for people I don’t know, have never met — people who are dying. Moms who are weeping over toddlers with gunshot wounds to their heads and sons who will never get married.

God is weeping. On this holiday that can be understood worldwide, that is at its heart not culture-bound, this holiday of giving thanks, there is a taint and God is weeping.

And I ask myself the questions that have been asked by many before me, and will be asked by many after me:

How do I rejoice with family while others are weeping over their dead?

How do I feast on turkey while others go hungry?

How do I bask in safety while others are drowning in rocket launches?

How do I enjoy good when others are surrounded by evil?

How do I not feel guilty when I have so much, others so little?

I sit quietly with a hot homemade latte, milk steamed to perfection. Psalm 27 blurs in front of my eyes – until I reach verse 13 and then suddenly the words come into focus. “I would have despaired unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.” I read on to verse 14 “Wait for the Lord, Be strong and let your heart take courage; Yes, wait for the Lord” 

And as I wait I slowly begin to deal with the “How” questions. I give thanks for my family and I pray mercy and comfort for those who are burying their dead; I anticipate the delight of turkey and stuffing even as I buy the homeless man coffee and breakfast; I bow in humble gratefulness for a warm and safe house and I beseech God that the rockets will stop, that a cease-fire will be achieved; I kneel in thanksgiving for the good that surrounds me, for common grace, and I pray for deliverance from the evil one; I ask for a proper response to my guilt and pray I will be prompted by God to serve those with less.

With grateful thanksgiving and humility I move forward — That is my ‘How’. 

Thanksgiving, One Thousand Gifts

 This beautiful poem comes from a friend who has given permission to share. A Prayer for Peace by Pari Ali

Enough is Enough!
Hatred through the torn land sweeps
while Isaac and Ishmael weep
as brother’s slaughtered by brother
each bent on destroying the other
branches of father Abraham’s tree
living up to Cain’s dreaded legacy
in heaven an anguished Adam cries
as helplessly he watches his sons die

In Which I order Two 25 Kilo Turkeys in Cairo, Egypt

We did our shopping on the weekend. The turkey, potatoes, green beans, mushrooms, jello (you must have jello) and so much more. As this time of the year comes around I think of Thanksgivings we have spent all over the world and all across the country. Pakistan, Chicago, Essex, Haiti, Egypt, Phoenix, Cambridge – all the memories make me smile.

But one stands out in my mind and to this day makes me laugh. 

To give context I did not cook a turkey until I was 34 years old and had four children.

Attending an international boarding school while growing up in Pakistan meant that we were never at home for Thanksgiving, that quintessential American holiday. Instead, the boarding school I attended graciously took the holiday and created their own version of a special meal (skinny chickens and mashed potatoes) followed by a musical concert. We called it thanksgiving and it was, for we were grateful for those scrawny but tasty drumsticks.

Furthermore turkey as known in the United States at that time was not available anywhere in the country outside of the American commissary, so Christmas dinner was generally chickens filled with homemade stuffing or the rich meat of wild duck.

It meant that I  never helped my mom cook a turkey. I didn’t know how to do it. I knew nothing about making a turkey or a roast, or any of those things that are considered good solid American fare.

But how hard could it be?

At 34 we found ourselves in Cairo on the Island of Zamalek responsible for 18 American college students in a semester-abroad program. I decided now was the time. So armed with my best Arabic I headed to a grocery store I knew well in Maadi.

The conversation went like this:

“Hosni, I would like to buy two 25 kilo turkeys for our feast”.

“Madame – I don’t know if I can find turkeys that big!”

“Hosni! I am having a lot of people. A lot of people ….I need TWO 25 kilo turkeys” He shook his head muttering but he had dealt with the likes of me before and knew there was no arguing.

When he called to tell me the turkeys had arrived, he apologized – he couldn’t find two 25 kilo turkeys, instead he had one that was 13 kilo and one that was 10. “I told you I needed BIG turkeys” I wailed. Hosni laughed “Oh, they are big!”

And then I went to pick them up.

They were massive. They filled two large boxes and packed beside them were their severed heads. In an instant I realized I was forgetting the weight difference between the metric system, used worldwide, and the American system, used only in America.

I had ordered over 110 pounds of turkey.

I was duly rebuked and humbled – no wonder Hosni muttered. We both laughed – he with glee and me with chagrin.  I often wondered if he enjoyed telling the story of this insistent white woman and her huge turkeys. Each year after we would laugh together about the 25 kilo turkeys.

It’s a good story to remember. The arrogance of my white-skinned insistence makes me cringe. This was only one of many times of having to admit that I was wrong; I didn’t have a clue. One of many “25 kilo turkey” moments of cross-cultural learning.

When we cross over into other cultures, we function most effectively when we can take 25 kilo turkey moments and recognize our need to listen and learn.

Thanksgiving dinner that year was amazing, the turkeys cooked to perfection. And the 25 kilo turkey moment remains a reminder, not only of an amazing Thanksgiving, but of the need for cultural humility, ceasing to be an expert and being willing to be a student of the culture where I was making my home.

Do you have cross-cultural holiday stories to share? Share your story in the comment section!