Muchas Gracias

I don’t think Thanksgiving has ever meant so much to me, until this year. The only reason I’ve really liked it as a holiday in the past, is because I get time off from school or work and I'd usually book a kick-ass trip. Cabo, anyone? And then school is out a few weeks after that.  It’s more of a stepping stone for me to get to Christmas. It makes me think of Jesus’ red-headed stepbrother who hates Indians. It's been baffling me by how mushy and pleasant I’ve been this holiday season, because I currently have the least amount of possessions I’ve ever had, no money in my bank account, and I’m extremely far away from my family and friends. I almost never see my husband, and in case you haven’t noticed, American Thanksgiving is an AMERICAN holiday and we don’t live in America. Hence, no Thanksgiving break. Billy took a few hours off from studying so we could go to dinner at a local resort and then play at the beach after. I had crappy, overpriced pizza and it didn’t feel like Thanksgiving in the slightest. So why do I feel so sappy and appreciative for my life on this year in particular?

Because: no shoes, no shirt, no problems! Everything in life can be tied into a Kenny Chesney song. Everything.

I’m gonna shoot it straight with you now, I absolutely love living in Grenada. A lot of people out here have a really hard time living on this rock, and I try to commiserate with them, but I have fallen madly in love with the place. Sure, it sucks that we don’t get all the modern American amenities. But I think that’s part of the reason I love it so much. My perfect self is not into money and things—I’m into experiences and relationships. (Let’s also keep in mind that my ideal self sails around the world with her family while being a yogi master and living off the land.) But somewhere along the way, I lost those ideals and became a shopaholic. And I feel that I’m getting rid of my selfish materialistic nature little by little here on this island. And learning to live in the moment. There are freakishly hard days where I just want to punch our lovely concrete walls or amputate my limbs because they are infested with bug bites. But most days, I feel so content with who I am and where I am, it’s such a strange feeling. Especially for someone who has been whining for a baby for her whole married life. I’m actually a little bit nervous to go to the States over Christmas break because I’m worried that I’ll revert back to my old ways pretty quickly. I’m also nervous to drive on the right side of the road again. And for temperatures below 75 degrees.

I think our situation before this really set me up to be obsessed with the Grenada. We were lucky enough to live with my parents for a while and then with Billy’s parents after that. They were both amazingly generous to let us mooch off of them while we saved money on rent to save up for med school go on fun trips. By the time we moved out here, I was ecstatic just to have our own place. It doesn't matter that it’s the tiniest apartment out of all the apartments I've seen here. It’s ours! Not that living with the Strongs and Griffiths wasn’t just delightful. My parents were supposed to be empty nesters, but they sacrificed that alone time to go on a lot of double dates. Billy’s parents were also supposed to be empty nesters, but we moved in just in the nick of time to spare them the loneliness of such a fate. It was sort of wonderful to interact with all of our parents as a fellow married couple—it’s a different relationship and I’ll be forever grateful for that time we had with them. And for the money we saved on rent. But after 3 years of mooching, it was high time we grew up and learned how to fork over some rent money and live on our own. Yes, I know, it’s not even our money, it’s all loans, but hey that’s progress for us!

Also, I never bought groceries before this, because I never cooked before this. So, everyone complains about how expensive the groceries are here, but I never knew what things cost before this, so I have nothing to compare it to. Blind gratitude, dude.

Speaking of loans, we are in one of the most unique financial situations we’ll ever find ourselves in. All of our SGU friends without children get the SAME EXACT AMOUNT of money for loans. What other time in our life will we be friends with people with the same amount in their bank account as us? (This may be somewhat of a stretch since we are the least responsible with our money. But at least, we all STARTED with the same amount this term.) I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again—these chicas know exactly what I’m going through because, on paper, our lives are the same! It takes out the nasty "Keeping up with the Joneses" comparisons that seems to come second nature to me.

I think what I’m trying to say with these random points is that I’m starting to understand why those in third world countries are the happiest people you’ll ever meet. They don’t have a lot of stuff and so they value what’s important. We had an enrichment activity at the church (guys, I now attend enrichment. WTF) where we had a “bonfire on the beach” (firewood was wet, so we gathered around flashlights at the church) and sang our favorite hymns. In case you ever want to make the whole Relief Society cry, go ahead and plan this same activity. One of the Grenadian sisters told us that her favorite hymn was “Because I Have Been Given Much”. She explained that it spoke to her because she has been given so much through the gospel of Jesus Christ and she felt so privileged with this knowledge. This sister probably had the least amount of belongings in comparison to any of us in the circle. And her favorite hymn was “Because I Have Been Given Much”. If that doesn’t define Thanksgiving, I don’t know what does. I hope I’m as cool as she is when I grow up. And let’s just pretend that I didn’t throw a tantrum the other day because all I wanted was some sour patch kids.

Thanksgiving dinner at La Luna

Post skinny-dipping :)

This Christmas is the first time in our marriage that neither of us have any responsibilities (at the same time) for a whole month. So much free time with this stud. 

St. George's baptismal font. The best kind.