Thanksgiving in Quito

In America, for those of you not from America, Thanksgiving is probably the second biggest holiday of the year. I can’t say that is my favorite holiday. That would have to be Halloween – especially Halloween in New England, where it just seems to belong. In fact, having spent so much time either out of the country or in some far flung corner of the country, its significance has, to be honest, diminished in my mind.


Not that this is a good thing. Living on an Indian reservation for all those years certainly gave me a perspective on the holiday. Some of it was bad – like the treatment of Native Americans over the years. Some of it was good – like the importance of gratitude and family.

This year, I find myself, yet again, in a different country. Needless to say, my perspective on Thanksgiving is affected once again. In the past, I’ve lived in places that in some respects made me look at the States in a disparaging light. Living in Europe, I was exposed to countries with decent health care, education, transportation and public services. It was a pleasure. I became increasingly critical of the fact that we didn’t have those things in my home country.

It made me sad to see that we had become a “can’t do” nation. We can’t cut on CO2 emissions, we can’t have universal health coverage, we can’t improve the schools. Of course, those of us who argued that we could do these things became an evil cabal of Trotskyite nay sayers who hated America.

I still maintain those criticisms. However, living in Ecuador has given me a different perspective. It would seem that Thanksgiving is a good time to share those criticisms.

I’m writing this blog entry in an incredibly beautiful house. It looks like I live in the country. During the day it looks out over a lush green hills and a gorgeous volcano, perfect in its conical whiteness. At night I go to bed listen to a tree frog that makes a delightful clicking noise. In the morning, before my alarm goes off, I wake up to a dawn chorus like you would not believe. In the heat of the day, hummingbirds dash, flower to flower, outside my window.

It is paradise behind a wall. I never imagined myself living behind a wall, but I do now. It is a roughly 10 foot wall with an electric gate and broken glass mortared onto the top to keep thieves out. My office is similar. I sit at the window. For it, the closest thing is another wall. This one, instead of having glass has electric fencing on top. Beyond that, moves the hustle and bustle that you would expect in a capital city. Frustrated commuters lean too heavily on their horns, and there is occasional sounds of shouting.

Between the cars, people try to sell stuff or beg. One kid carries his lame brother – pant legs rolled up to show the sores – getting handouts from drivers. Another guy sells art prints. There is also an indigenous woman. She sells candy, cigarettes, cough drops, and other stuff to drivers. I like her. She is there in the morning when I come to work, and she is still there in the evening when I leave. I often buy a box of Chicklets from her. She works hard, never begs and always smiles. What else can I do? After I make my purchase, I step over her two boys, asleep on the sidewalk, and go to work.

I am writing this in the midst of a blackout. Ecuador does not have an adequate enough infrastructure to deal with a minor drought. A few weeks without rain and the hydroelectric that powers this country can’t cope. So, every day we lose power for a few hours. It is, to be certain, a bit of a pain in the ass.

But, it is also something to be thankful for. It is a time to read – be in silence – and take a break from the rest of the world.

I won’t really get to celebrate Thanksgiving this year. I’m OK with that. But certainly, living in Ecuador has given me pause. America certainly has its share of flaws, but the closest thing to a wall I’ve ever lived behind was the picket fence in the front yard of my loving (if slightly crazy) childhood home. Before coming here, I never thought to plan out what I carry so that I did not make an attractive target for thieves, and I certainly never stepped over children sleeping on the street.

That is truly something to be thankful for.

***On a side note – for those of you reading this, I want to thank you. I’ve moved quite often over the course of my life. During that time I’ve made friends with some truly amazing people. If I have one regret in life, it is that I have not stopped in one place long enough to get to know many of you better. I am thankful to so many of you for so much. I also want to thank my family (the few of you that there are) for providing me with a childhood that prepared me so well for the life that I truly love.

-Tommy