Fireworks & All That American Jazz

A towering cone of cotton candy: the
verdict? Sweet. And sticky

Last night was a first for us; on what was our fourth Independence Day spent overseas, we attended our first "real" 4th of July celebration. And by real I mean all of the food, games, festivities and of course fireworks that I remember from the Independence Days of my childhood. The celebration wasn't huge but it gave us the little piece of home that we didn't quite realize we were missing. And, most importantly and my absolute favorite part of the night, was introducing Sidney to his first All-American celebration. And that was pretty amazing.

Even when we were in the United States, we weren't carnival or fair people but last night's small dose of Americana was pretty darn nice. A portion of the base had been transformed into a fair grounds with super sized tents, music, food vendors and rides. With the exception of a few intermittent showers (which is impressive by Belgium standards) the evening was dry. While DJs played their music, pimply teenagers were on the prowl, toddlers ran around underfoot and crowds milled around the tents drinking American beers and eating all of the foods I associate with fairs. My pulled pork sandwich followed by funnel cake was one of the best things I had eaten in a long time. I contributed this to the fact that I have eaten neither of these items in years if not decades. Sidney's first foray into cotton candy was a sweet and sticky adventure but then again what child doesn't have memories of eating mounds of spun sugar.

Sidney watched the carnival rides with fascination immediately declaring that he wanted to ride on the biggest and scariest ride of them all. We talked him out of it and instead he happily rode the bumper cars with Glenn. I remember riding the bumper cars with my own father at the same age and little seems to have changed. Each bump was met with a peal of laughter and a request for more. Then there was the fun house and the giant slides that Sidney slide down over and over again. He contemplated a tilt-a-whirl which he studied for a long time. Sidney initially wanted to take a ride but after watching it spin for several turns decided to wait "until he is six". But because we are on a military base in Belgium the entertainment went beyond the traditional carnival rides. Period actors dressed was World War II attire stood along side jeeps and weaponry of the time. Kids tried on the helmets and tested the guns as parents snapped pictures. (I'll be honest, I never dreamed I'd be watching my son hop amongst the artillery at a carnival). But he loved it.

Because this was the Fourth, the highlight of the evening was the fireworks that concluded the evening. Now we saw a lot of fireworks while we were in Albania; they regularly lit the sky in bits and spurts throughout the year with New Years bringing about the biggest bang of them all. While their scale was impressive they were noisy, chaotic and tinged with a bit of danger. They lacked the artistic design of well orchestrated shows and most often left me feeling agitated. Sidney was equally impressed and scared by the Albanian fireworks. But last night? That was an entirely different story. As he laid on the grass on the edge of the baseball field looking up at the sky, he provided us with an ongoing commentary about their color, size and shape. His descriptions were punctuated with giggles of laughter and such adjectives as amazing, wonderful and magnificent.

Watching him watch the fireworks filled me with motherly happiness since my little boy was finally experiencing one of the joys from my own childhood. Sometimes I worry about the simple things he is missing out on because of our living overseas. He may have visited most of Europe's capitols but he's never experienced a real American Fourth of July. Until last night that is. And as we drove home close to midnight (after all it stays light really late here in Belgium) he continued to chatter excitedly about his evening. As he said, he had so much fun. I'm sure that many of his memories of his overseas childhood will only be fleeting in later years. I'm hopeful that last night is one of the ones he remembers.

Fireworks 

Observing one of the rides. After
studying it Sidney informed us that when
he is six he will be big enough to ride it.

Happy Birthday America

Today is Independence Day. Also known as the Fourth of July or America's birthday. This year she is 238 years young. It was back in 1776 that our founding fathers signed the Declaration of Independence declaring the colonies' independence from Great Britain. And the rest they say, is history.

Celebrating an American holiday while living overseas is always a bit different than it is back in the United States. First, since it isn't a local holiday, it is business as usual for the host country. That can make it easier to run out and buy last minute items but it also adds to the sense that the day really isn't a holiday. When we were in Albania, the Fourth of July was always a working holiday for us where Glenn and I would join our Ambassador in the receiving line at the Embassy's annual Independence Day reception. While we were there the reception was never actually held on the holiday itself (which always resulted in a lot of explanations about celebrating the 4th of July on an entirely different day.....), it was the closest we ever came to attending a celebratory party. Last year on the 4th we were actually in the Ionian Islands with a wonderful group of international friends and our eating, drinking and spending time with friends was reminiscent of the 4ths we had spent on the water with friends back in Norfolk.

So what are we doing this year? Last night we hosted a cookout for friends (old Albanian habits of not celebrating on the holiday itself die hard). We fired up the grill and cooked traditional American foods of hot dogs, hamburgers and barbecue chicken with all of the traditional sides. Because we are finally in a community where people understand the concept of bringing a dish to share, the meal was augmented with a wonderful assortment of international dishes. (And I'm realizing that it is so much easier to entertain when I don't have to do all of the cooking!). Today the rest of the SHAPE community is working but Americans have the day off. So this morning we are cleaning up from yesterday's festivities and exploring the Friday market. This afternoon we will head over to SHAPE to join the community in a giant 4th of July celebration. Everyone says this is one of the biggest events of the year with music, food and carnival games. We've promised Sidney that we will stay for the fireworks (at 2300 none the less since the sun sets so late). Whereas in Albania fireworks were a daily occurrence, Sidney hasn't seen any since we've arrived in Belgium so he is excited. The festivities probably won't be the like ones back home but they will be as close as we can get so we will enjoy this little piece of Americana.

So Happy Birthday America, with love from Belgium!

An Albanian 4th of July

Last week our Embassy hosted its formal Independence Day celebration.  In true American form, the event was not held on the actual holiday; rather a date of convenience was selected instead.  This date change was confusing for many guests who couldn't understand why we were celebrating the Fourth of July in late June.  (In Albania, holidays are celebrated on the actual day- if that day happens to fall on a weekend, you don't get the following Monday off to celebrate).  For friends who asked, I was unable to provide a good explanation as to why we did this.  All I could say was that this is the way we tend to do things in America.  That, became a good enough answer.

As we have discovered, national days take on a whole new meaning when you are living abroad. For us, American holidays are often met with a void; while our Embassy may be closed, the rest of Albania is open for business.  (Albanians may wish us a happy Fourth of July but holidays such as Columbus Day, Memorial Day, and Thanksgiving are unacknowledged.  This results in a strange disconnect between the actual holiday and making it into something other than an unusual day off in the middle of the week.  Personally, we spent the actual day grocery shopping and preparing for an upcoming reception.)  Every country has its share of national days and even here in tiny Tirana, we are regularly invited to a variety of national days, reunification days, and other patriotic celebratory days for the various embassies in the City.  Some months are busier than others but at each event the celebrating country seems to be able to share their traditions while incorporating a uniquely Albanian twist into the celebration.

For the second year in a row Glenn and I were invited by our Ambassador to stand in the receiving line at our celebration to help welcome the 500 plus guests who had been lucky enough to receive a coveted invitation.  We had been in Albania for a little over a week when we attended last year's celebration; as such, much of that event was a hot, jet lagged blur for me.  This year was different. Not only was I involved in the planning and implementation of this event,  but this year I actually knew or at least recognized a fair number of the people who attended.  I was also much more alert and noticed details that I had missed during our first go-around.

First there is the actually greeting of guests as they arrived.  Shaking hands with that many people is not for the faint of heart.  Even if you aren't a germ-a-phobe, by the time the meet and greet portion of the event ends you have the persistent urge to wash your hands (hence the reason I never go any place without a stash of anti-bacterial wipes in my purse).  It wasn't until I had the opportunity to shake that many hands that I actually gave any thought to this simple action.  Whether limp and damp or dry and bone crushing, I've come to realize that handshakes say a lot about the person behind the grip.  Military- especially Eastern European- hand shakes tend to be rapid and knuckle crushing.  (Over the past year I've stopped wearing a ring on my right hand in order to reduce the potential damage to my right hand that comes from these over zealous greetings).  Other handshakes are as lifeless as an overcooked noodle.  If I wasn't looking I wouldn't even be aware that a handshake took place.  By far the worst handshake, however, is the sweaty palm.  Whether it is firm or gentle it leaves me wanting to discretely wipe my hand on my skirt (yet another reason to wear something that does not require dry cleaning).  Finally, there are the people who won't shake my hand. Whether it is a cultural taboo to touch a strange woman or I don't rate high enough on their significance scale, a number of guests blew right past me without slowing their pace.  I don't take it personally; rather I chalk it up to my overall experience.

The other thing I noticed at our reception was what people wore.  Again, military members arrive wearing uniforms.  This makes it easy to both spot and recognize them.  Civilian attire is more open to interpretation. Guests wore everything from skinny jeans and strategically torn tee shirts and micro mini dresses to cocktail attire, business suits and everything in between.  Not everything was seasonally appropriate either:  I spotted at least one fur trimmed outfit. This is outside. In June. In Albania. I was hot and itchy just looking at it; I can't even begin to imagine actually wearing the outfit.  Given that this was an outdoor event on a large grassy lawn, I would have expected more outdoor friendly footwear.  Instead, the number of Manolo Blahniks and cheaper knock offs worn by female guests was astounding.  I would never dream of wearing stiletto heels to an outdoor event but apparently I am in the minority on this.  If nothing else, this fashion parade only added to the evening's entertainment.

The actual reception was nice.  The lawn of the National Gallery was tastefully decorated and the temperatures were significantly cooler than I remember them being last year.  Both the American and Albanian national anthems were impressively sung by a young Albanian singer from Vlore.  A visiting U. S. Navy band provided background music throughout the reception.  Food and drink flowed freely, speeches were made, guests mingled, and the evening was capped off with a short display of fireworks.  Considering the fact we are in Albania and there wasn't any hotdogs, flip flops, or beaches in sight, it was a nice Fourth of July celebration.  It certainly wasn't like the celebrations I remember as a child, but it was a typical national day celebration with a local Albanian twist.

Until we do it again next year, Happy Independence Day America, with love from Albania!