Thanksgiving Irony and a Mystery

I'm starting to get a bit confused over holidays.  Our kids assert that all holidays in the US and Korea are holidays from homeschooling.  What is it about these little rug rats that makes them so adept at bold assertions that adults find somehow logical and surprisingly compelling?   Perhaps it is the attraction adults also feel to the idea of "doubling up" and celebrating two sets of holidays.  Thanksgiving in Korea is a perfect example.  What is not to like about avoiding the traffic jams, crowded grocery stores and the stressful silliness of "Black Friday" in America while enjoying the wonderful benefits of a holiday still centered on the idea of giving thanks for God's bountiful blessings.  We had a wonderful time sharing overflowing tables at a traditional Thanksgiving feast with a multitude of new friends among the ex patriot community of professors and their families here at Handong University.  Americans, Canadians, Australians (I don't think they have a Thanksgiving holiday, but are happy to join us in celebrating ours) and even a student or two joined in the progressive dinner at three homes.  

Stuffed and ready for a nap at the end of the evening, I searched for my shoes among the dozens piled up at the entry to one of the professor's homes (shoes aren't worn inside in Korea.)  Spying an extraordinarily large pair of brown shoes that must have been mine, I put them on and started on my way home. The shoes didn't feel right on my feet.  I figured an evening of wandering around in my socks and a full stomach must have changed the shape of my feet.  Upon closer inspection after arriving home, I realized they weren't mine at all.  I had worn someone else's size 13 brown shoes home.  I quickly sent Daniel back to the party to return the shoes and find my missing pair.  Thankfully he arrived just as another professor of my stature was searching for his shoes.  Still, after checking the piles of shoes at all three homes, Daniel returned having failed to find mine.  One of the hosts of last night's dinner sent out an email to the faculty this morning  explaining that a pair of very large brown shoes were left at the party and wondering how someone had managed to find their way home, shoeless, in last night's cold.  There's also a bit of irony along with the mystery.  I can't help but wonder at the irony of feeling a greater sense of thanksgiving 6,500 miles away in Korea than most Americans experience in the U.S. where the holiday has largely become just another over commercialized reason to spend money.

Ken Chinn

p.s. I enjoyed sharing with the other professor after church this morning that I now knew what it was like to walk in his shoes.