When Holidays Look Different Than They Used To

Sometimes things looking different than how we want them to look provides the impetus we need to create something pretty epic and new, or appreciate why things looking different is a good thing.

You’ve heard the phrase, “If a tree falls in the forest, and no one hears it, does it make a sound?” You probably haven’t heard the related question, “If a holiday looks different than it’s always looked, does it still count as a holiday?”

I hadn’t either, and in fact, just made it up. But it helpfully describes at least for me the holiday grappling of the past couple years. My conclusion is that yes, they absolutely still count as a holiday, but more importantly, these days can mark important expansion in a life of significance and connection. Letting holidays be different and wonderful in new and unforced ways can lead to an expanded, versus constricted, sense of living on-purpose. 

Last year, Thanksgiving was looking like a really different holiday than the ones I used to know and love. My feelings and emotions were a complicated layered situation of sadness, nostalgia, and resolve to still make Thanksgiving memorable. I had the itch to get back abroad again, this time more quietly and privately, but still wanted to be with family for one of my favorite American holidays.

Solution? Travel to Georgia the Country. I’ve learned that you’ve got to add that qualifier otherwise people think you went to American Georgia and get confused by subsequent stories. A cousin’s family is stationed at the U.S. Embassy in Georgia and it felt like a great way to meet multiple needs at once: Fit in some more exploratory travel and be able to spend a holiday with family. 

Said Thanksgiving trip turned into a barrel of adventure beyond just seeing Georgia and having an interesting Thanksgiving. In the spirit of holidays looking really different than they used to—and that being a good thing—here are a couple highlights from my most unusual Thanksgiving 2023.

I visited Poland, by accident

I swung through Poland for a couple days on my way to Georgia, something I never would’ve done if it hadn’t been for the Georgia decision and a faulty Google search. Said search indicated that Krakow, Poland had direct flights to Georgia. It sure didn’t, but I might never have prioritized Poland otherwise—maybe ever—and discovered an absolute treasure I can’t wait to visit again.

Embassy life

I got a taste of embassy life—playing sports on Thanksgiving morning with families from the embassy, reconvening for dinner later with an expanded group of embassy families and friends, seeing some of these same families and many of their local friends at church. I marveled at the adventuring spirits of many of the embassy families and how relatively well they were able to recreate a traditional Thanksgiving meal even without access to the usual ingredients (Georgia is very much still a developing country). An older American friend with brightly colored hair and a socially-reserved and gentle husband, visiting her embassy friends, invited me to visit them at their new home in Italy. One of these days, I just might. 

Speaking of embassy families, I even got to visit the actual U.S. Embassy in Georgia. Not the satellite office in the heart of Tbilisi where American tourists go for passport issues and the like, but the real, heavily guarded one. My hopes of seeing a scene play out like on The Saint were quickly dashed, but since my visit still required authorization and a fairly intense security screening, my imagination was able to create all kinds of exciting scenarios for what my cousin’s husband assures me is like any other office work. My imagination super begs to differ.

Armenia: I’ll be back

I spent a profound day in Armenia and am positive I’ll be back to see more, and to eat more of their carrot salad. How wild is it that a simple carrot salad of all things was the hero of a delicious meal with a local family?

A photo I'm immensely proud of, from a super old church compound in Armenia. And lunch at the locals—please note the carrot salad in the middle.

Sulphur baths of Tbilisi

 “When in Rome, do what the Romans do” got me to one of the historic sulphur baths, where I spent most of my hour wondering how many people have overheated with serious, death-like consequences in the rooms. And wondering what the famous or infamous kisa peel (scrub) would be like. It involved a lot of jostling and a lot of sloshing. 

The hallway of the bath, and me after being boiled and scrubbed. Please note the backpack stuffed with dirty clothes for a laundromat adventure afterward.

More new friends

I made new friends on my tours, including an older Spanish friend I met on one tour and who joined me for two others. Miguel and I met for dinner, texted between tours, bantered about all kinds of things, and stayed in touch for months as he continued his legitimate world traveling. And I’m inspired by writing this to send him a message on WhatsApp to see how he is doing. Miguel is evidence that anyone can travel solo and manage just fine—there is always someone to help you navigate SIM cards, bookings, and all the other things that come up when traveling solo. 

A UN employee newly stationed in Georgia after years in Mexico (and Indonesia before that) and I met while both navigating a Tbilisi laundromat. We had plenty to keep talking about and met up later that night for khinkali. It was almost bizarre how her work drama, while exotic and international, reminded me of the same drama that plays out in tech companies and every other workplace: poor boundaries, unclear or inconsistent expectations, insecurity-fueled overwork…

The Georgian snake

On an incredibly cold day of touring Georgian sites, I made a fool of myself when I mistook part of a child’s snack—picture a colorless Cheeto laying in a puddle of water—for an exotic worm. A priest missing multiple teeth and wreaking of cigarette smoke saw me prodding it with my boot and stopped to see what I was looking at. He spoke no English, and summoned over a local who spoke at least a little. What he said sure sounded like, “It’s a snake,” but it turns out he was saying “It’s a snack.” When I finally understood—a full minute of confused back-and-forth questioning later—and burst into laughter, they joined in with pure delight. Every time they see a soggy children’s snack, I sure hope they also reflect on the hilarity of our shared moment. 

It was in a puddle between here and the gate where I saw the snake.

The Turkish fight club

And then I flew to Rome via Istanbul, Turkey where I was momentarily disturbed by the sight of many men—dozens of them—with bloodied heads and headbands, until I remembered that Turkey is a destination spot for hair transplant surgery. Perhaps I should be embarrassed to admit that my initial thought was that they were all members of some kind of fight club. Like I’ve said before, my imagination is one of my best, if complicated, features.

The boat journey home

To wrap it all up, after a couple days in Civitavecchia (the port city of Rome), I embarked on my 15-night boat journey back to the United States. Each time I repeated “Civitavecchia” in my head—it’s a tricky one—I would subconsciously add “That’s fun to say.” Like in the scene from Elf where Buddy quietly repeats, “Francisco, Francisco, Francisco.”

Final thoughts on holidays working out differently, and better:

Back to Thanksgiving Day, I mentioned playing sports that morning with embassy families. We met at the international school their kids attend and they introduced me to “gatorball.” It’s equal parts soccer, American football, and rugby. Let’s also throw in some ultimate frisbee for good measure.

One of my knees—my left one if you must know—had been bugging me for weeks prior to this trip, and concerned me enough to wonder if I was on the cusp of spraining or tearing something important in my knee. Playing an intense sport seemed risky, but also, life is about risk. So I played, figuring that if something bad happened, I’d figure this out like I’d figured everything else out.

But guess what? My knee handled the game just fine. More than fine, actually. The intense cold might’ve played a part, but I’m giving all the credit to the pivoting and running and starts and stops for inexplicably fixing my knee. I fully expected it to make it worse and was willing to deal with the consequences, but the exact opposite happened. Could it be the case that I just needed to use my knee in more unpredictable and interesting ways, and that intense and spontaneous activity was just the thing to fix it? Methinks so, and that there are some pretty major applications for life in this.

So did my 2023 Thanksgiving look totally different than any previous Thanksgiving? You bet. And it turns out that was a really, really good thing. If your holidays this year look different than they have before, I hope you’re able to find ways to celebrate what makes that actually a very good thing. And I also hope you’ll share all about it.

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