With less than two weeks left of my time abroad, I seem to be caught in a strange limbo of wanting to stay and explore this new territory for months on end yet feeling oddly homesick for familiar people and places. Because this is my first Thanksgiving away from home, I’m currently processing what it’s like to spend the holidays away, while preparing for the wave of homesickness that rolls in as it gets closer and closer to Thursday.

I’ve accepted the fact that it’s going to be strange to not wake up to the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade playing in the background on TV while Mom and I peel potatoes together and watch and chat from the kitchen. Even though it doesn’t snow in Arizona, the climate here in South Africa is still so unfamiliar to me for this time of year. While sunny skies may seem appealing to those currently shoveling snow, I just feel so out of place waking up to the sun already high in the sky at 7 am instead of a crisp December morning and the smell of Dad’s coffee brewing. As trivial as these things may seem, they all equate to the sense of home that I am currently lacking. It goes beyond the simple fact that Thanksgiving isn’t celebrated on the other side of the world: skipping out on the holiday entirely for the first time in 20 years stirs up a deeply rooted desire for familiarity and the comfort that exists in tradition.

While I have been lucky enough to be a two-hour plane ride away from home in the past, many college students have already had to adjust to spending various holidays away from home. Since moving away, I am slowly discovering that surrounding myself with my family away from family brings its own sense of home, and having a “friendsgiving” dinner with Martinelli’s and homemade mashed potatoes and rotisserie chicken has become a beloved memory as well as one of my favorite new traditions. Although it’s the middle of summer here and pumpkin pie isn’t really a thing in South Africa, I am so grateful to be with a group of people who bring a different sense of understanding and belonging. While it would probably be easier to sit and simmer in the sense of longing I feel for home this Thursday, wishing for somewhere I can't be, I’m striving to create a home out of the unfamiliar and make memories amidst the newness.

Yesterday I counted my blessings: I’m constantly with some of my best friends, I’m a five minute walk from an ice cream cone on the beach, and I get to be with my homestay family for Thanksgiving dinner. Although they aren’t my own family, they have extended so much kindness and hospitality to adopt me into theirs for the week. I’ll admit it’s going to be difficult but necessary to embrace the uncomfortable, because it’s what I have. This certainly won’t be my last Thanksgiving away from home. I’m hoping to one day have a family of my own to celebrate with, whenever and wherever that may be. Breaking and changing tradition is all part of the process, and without it, new traditions and cherished memories wouldn’t be created in the first place. Although the temporariness of my current situation is becoming more prevalent in my day-to-day thoughts, I am reminding myself that for now this place is still my home, and I will make it my own while I can.