It's freezing in Jerusalem. It rained all weekend, and yet I still braved the streets for Thanksgiving dinner at my friend's house. There were three enormous tables set up in their living room, around which sat forty or fifty (mostly non-American) friends. They made everyone say something they were thankful for, but I and the rest of the cynics waited on the balcony until that part was over. It's not that I'm not thankful or anything, it's just that I knew maybe ten of the people there, and I'm not much for public speaking.
So we ate and made merry, and I endured the usual barrage of American jokes (we killed the Indians after Thanksgiving, we have no table manners, no real culture...you know the drill), but mostly it was a really good time. In the end, Luise and I ended up at Dave's in a really silly mood, and sat laughing and talking about nothing until 3:30 in the morning. A nice Thanksgiving, in spite of the homesickness that comes with the territory.