Sunday, August 7, 2016
Update!
Just learned that TripAdvisor published my edited review yesterday. Hmmm🤔. The timing is interesting.
Wednesday, August 3, 2016
The Review that Trip Advisor Refuses to Publish
I'm not usually a review writer, and I realize how unfair it is for me to rely on reviews on TripAdvisor, AirBNB (which I always leave a review), and Yelp without ever contributing. So, I vowed to contribute more. I wrote the following review shortly after I return from my visit to Paris. I duly submitted it to TripAdvisor. It took a couple of weeks for me to get the email copied below that asked that I not use profanity. I purposefully used asterisks to denote the profanity that was showered upon us. My use of coded profanity was not to titillate, but merely to report what happened. Nonetheless, TripAdvisor gently asked for a revision. Since I wanted this review published, for the greater good, I complied and edited out the asterisked words. I believe I referred to the words generally as expletives. ⏳is what is happening now. It's now August... Not confident that they will publish it. Is it that TripAdvisor doesn't publish negative reviews? What's the issue? Shouldn't people know? This review is not embellished. It is what happened. There were maybe two other tables occupied when we were there. So, it wasn't even busy when we allegedly made the proprietor "work." They are also witnesses.
Here's a few thoughts/entreaties to Mr. Fulvio. Maybe publish a menu so you don't have to "work" to read the menu to each customer. Perhaps take some classes on mindfulness, with an emphasis on being kind to your neighbor, even in the face of adversity. Also, don't chase your customers down the street yelling expletives at them. Incredibly aggressive. That might possibly send a chill down the spines of your other customers who may step out of line. Just suggestions.
Thus, since TripAdvisor is hedging, I decided to publish it here, along with TripAdvisor's email to me. By the way, Yelp published the review, but relegated it to the depths of "We Don't Know You/Can't Vouch for You" because you have only written one review. Okay, I get it. Finally, I received an email from TripAdvisor to say that my reviews have been read by 573 people in 7 days! Go figure.
Full disclosure: the review was edited for typos and grammar. Other than that, it's what was submitted to TripAdvisor.
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------original review-------
Subject: FULVIO
Location: Paris, Ile-de-France, France, Europe
Title: Incredibly Rude Proprietor
ID#: 390993647
We visited this restaurant on 4 July 2016, based on some of the positive reviews posted on Yelp. What a disgusting experience because the proprietor, who some have described as delightful, was the most narcissistic, rude, and aggressive person with whom I've ever come in contact. The chalkboard menu was largely illegible, and needed to be deciphered. Without pleasantries, the proprietor came over our table with the blackboard, and very aggressively asked whether we wanted to share an appetizer. When my French friend responded to him in French to ask a question, he immediately responded to her rudely in French, and then in English, that he would explain the menu. There were probably close to 30 items on the menu that he read through in lightening speed, and at the end, we were expected to spit out an order. When I said we needed a moment to digest the menu, we received an exasperated shrug.
At this point, my friend and I, weary of the poor behavior and attitude, decided to leave and spend our time in a less aggressive environment.
As we exited the restaurant, the proprietor berated us with expletives in French, and then I guess for my benefit, called us f****** a********, stupid, and f****** dumb. Happy Independence Day!
He followed us halfway down the street yelling at us, telling us that his reading of the menu was work for him. What aggressive and self-demeaning behavior towards two women. Wow. All because we exercised our right not to spend money in a restaurant where we felt unwelcome? If I had been any of the diners there witnessing that, I would have surely left. Why would anyone want to eat there with such potential erratic behavior?
Happy to report that we found a beautiful little Italian Restaurant called Le Petit Italien, also in the Marais, right behind Place des Voges. Friendly service and delightful food. I will definitely return there.
The takeaway: avoid Fulvio unless you like a slice of vitriol with your antipasto.
Sunday, August 30, 2015
Our Nation's Capital
I took a short trip to Alexandria, Virginia and Washington, DC for work last week. It had been a few years since I visited this nation's capital, and I want more!! The DC monuments and museums close down pretty early, and the 50 minute ride into DC didn't leave much time to explore. The hotel, Crowne Plaza, curiously (apparently no staff has taken this tour) recommended a rather no frills, "Sanford and Son" styled tour (as one of my colleagues remarked) where you're picked you up in a beat-up conversion van by a rather talkative gentleman, who drives you to the "coach," that really wasn't a coach. It looked something like this:
It was a mini-bus that had seen better days. The weather was quite warm and humid, and the air conditioner on-board felt more a swamp cooler cool than dry crisp, filtered air, that is so needed in the near 100% humidity. Our tour guide, Ali, was tall, dour, and taciturn until he began the introduction on what a fun-filled tour we were in store for. He didn't really speak until the wheels were rolling and he was driving. I rode along with 4 other colleagues, three of whom, I did not know, but by the end, felt like I had known them for at least a few weeks. Once we were underway, Ali would not shut up! His rapid fire regurgitation of the history of DC was at first, impressive, but soon the almost robotic sing-song drone left me just tuning him out. My colleagues confirmed that some of his facts were not accurate. I interrupted him in mid-sentence to ask a question, and like a recording, he picked up exactly where he left off. This was a hop on, hop off tour of sorts. But soon, we found ourselves synchronizing our watches to Ali's so that we could be back at the bus by his proscribed departure time. It was little scary... As all good tactical teams are formed, an official time keeper emerged in our group, as well as an orienteering advisor/enforcer, when there were multiple monuments to visit. We literally were giving each other two-minute warnings when we lingered too long. This was more of a boot camp tour, where the object was to burn as many calories as possible. So much for a relaxing evening. It reminded me of supermarket sweep when you're trying to get to the register. We were running through sites like it was the end of the world to get our photos taken and history lessons learned in the time Ali allowed. Ali would be a good drill sergeant. He even us told the order in which to visit the Korean, Vietnam, and Lincoln Memorials in the 23 minutes he allowed. When someone tried to deviate, we quickly reminded each other that, "Ali said..." Amazing how much power he had gained within 15 minutes of meeting us. Did I mention we were in DC in August? Steamy! Good thing we had that quick margarita before we were picked up.
Even though Ali's tour wasn't the best, it was a really fun time. What do you want for $39? A taxi ride would have cost more! With all its deficiencies, Ali's directives, which I obviously made sound much more dramatic than it really was, well, not really, it made us all belly laugh and bond at every monument. It was a good time, and while I wouldn't recommend this tour to anyone, I would recommend taking a night tour, even if you've already visited these monuments during the day. The lighting on some of the monuments makes it challenging for iPhone photography, but I brought along my smaller, trusty and phenomenal Canon G16, and was able to get some good night shots. Nighttime in DC is amazing!! Imagine Arlington cemetery with only the van lights casting subdued illumination. Magic!
The monuments are amazingly pristine and well-visited at night. The marble at the Jefferson memorial (apparently has its own history) is gorgeous. Like the moon, the Washington Monument is beautifully ever-present in the background. The Iwo Jima site really shows the artist's mastery of detail. It was powerful. The Korean and Vietnam memorials were somber and funereal. The names. The cast images at the Korean memorial were eerily real. It was dark, and my camera's flash illumination reminded me of the battleground. In that instant, a soldier in combat appeared right as he would have in the rapid flash of battle.
I came away really loving my whirlwind visit to DC. The city seems very different from the last time I visited, and it makes me want to return to see the DC slow side. Another evening, I went to the U Street district to meet a friend for dinner at Dukem, an Ethiopian restaurant. I loved the food and the vibe of the neighborhood. People seem friendly and willing to stop and give you directions.
There's simply not enough time on a business trip!!
Personally, I think every American school child should have an opportunity to visit our country's capital, gratis. The area is so rich with history!! The Smithsonian, the monuments, and the White House are amazing places to visit. How can one know what it means to be an American, if one doesn't understand our government, how it works, and what it looks like. When I say visit, I don't mean a somewhat superficial photo-taking tour, but an in-depth visit to Congress, the White House, the Supreme Court. Every child should go.
I know that I have been an advocate for going West, but DC is definitely must-see destination that is easily accessible. Flying into Reagan National is a breeze, and the subway is clean, safe, and efficient. For older visitors, the restaurant and nightlife scene is great. I'm thinking a short trip is in order in the coming months.
Remember, that DC is as sexy at night as Paris!
Sunday, April 5, 2015
Happy Spring! Or, Ode to a Daffodil
This is what I hope to see once the snow melts and and the ground warms. My beautiful daffodils and tulips.
Daffodil, O Daffodil
Where art thou?
Beneath the layers of snow and ice
below shallow dirt that has lain fallow
for eight months or more
To love thee is to know you do not stay
Your petals en Jaune et Blanche
No Haiku can do thee justice
Thy beauty is beyond compare
Your glory is fleeting
but a reminder of how precious and brief
life is.
Sunday, March 1, 2015
San Antonio, Texas
From the Alamo to the Missions of San Antonio. San Antone. I've read some blogs that say that you’re a
tourist if you call it San Antone. They called it San Antone in the TV western, Rawhide,
so if it’s good enough for Mr. Favor, it’s good enough for me.
I have mixed feelings about San Antone. The River Walk
is lively and bright, but for me, it was too much of a tourist trap. It was hard to tell if any of the restaurants
were good. I stopped for Tex-Mex, and it
was mediocre. It left such an impression;
I forgot the name of the restaurant. Venture
off the trail, and you’re in the land of meth-heads. It was really
disquieting when you’re just trying to find and buy some skim milk from the
local CVS. Wandering around the mean
streets of downtown San Antone like
Navarro, Commerce and West Market, you may stumble upon the prostrated bodies
of the addicted. Barefoot and
glassy-eyed, my greeters were barely aware that they were conscious. I felt that running the gauntlet wasn’t worth
being able to eat cereal in my hotel room. I wondered why the hotel didn’t warn
me, especially when the bellman knew I was going out alone. It also left me wondering what the downtown
area would be like if the River Walk didn’t exist.
It was the Sunday
after Thanksgiving, and the streets were full.
There’s safety in numbers, I suppose.
I managed to find the Alamo and the cavalcade of souvenir shops on the
Alamo plaza without much effort. The
Alamo was smaller than imagined, but everyone had warned me. It’s nighttime illumination made the white
stone glow. The endless stream of
selfies or couples posing on its patio made for an interesting people watching
experience. Unfortunately, my trip was
too short to include a tour of the Alamo, but seeing the outside of the
structure was just as fulfilling.
The highlight of my stay was my tour of the other four
Franciscan missions around town. However,
my tour began at the Alamo, not really known for being a mission. The Alamo, or the Mission San Antonio de Valero was the first mission established in
1718 on the San Antonio River following the establishment of Mission San Francisco de Solano near the
Rio Grande River in 1700. The purpose was to convert and
assimilate the Coahuiltecan
Indians. The mission at its present
location was built in 1744. The mission
provided protection and community for the converted, but by 1793, the Indian
populations had been so reduced that the mission became a secular institution
in the community. From 1794-1821, the
Alamo was a military garrison held by the Spanish, which was locally called the
Pueblo de la Compañía del Alamo.
The four other missions that I visited were like Phoenix rising from
the ashes of some sketchy neighborhoods and urban/suburban sprawl. Mission San Juan Capistrano, Mission
Nuestra Senoria de la Purisma Concepcion de Acuna, Mission San Francisco Espada,
and Mission San Jose y San Miguel de Aguayo are beautiful 18th Century missions
designed by the Spanish and laboriously built by the local Indians. The history of each mission is similar to the
beginnings of the Alamo, so there is no need to regurgitate it here. The National Park Service has a great website
full of resources for learning the history of the mission system.
The National Park Service employees are eager to tell you the history
of the mission where they work. There
was a pride behind their words that was borne out of the beautiful artistry and
masonry that was flawlessly executed by the Indians who constructed these behemoths. From what I’ve researched, the privileged few
who were allowed live within the mission walls helped develop self-sustainable
organized communities, which contributed to the formation of the city that
exists today.
As I drove around San Antonio trying to squeeze in a visit to each
mission before heading to Austin, I realized that in the 18th
century, these missions were worlds apart when they contemporaneously existed. While only 9 miles separates San Juan
Capistrano to Mission Concepcion via the modern, paved Mission
Road, I suspect that on foot or on horseback it probably took at least a half
day to travel between these missions because of natural land barriers and other
obstacles. I was able to enter each of
the sanctuaries, with the exception of Mission Espada. The interior of San Juan Mission was
small and rustic, but very beautiful, as were the others. When I travel to the Southwest, I love
visiting old missions and churches. To
me, that is where the soul of the community continues to reside, so many
centuries later. I was happy to end my
visit to San Antonio there.
In addition to the missions, I loved the Pearl Brewery district, and
enjoyed Rosario’s Mexican Café y Cantina restaurant only minutes from the River
Walk. I would have to pan (no pun
intended) Mi Tierra Restaurant.
Much too much hype--I was told that it was amazing in the experience
and the food. Well, the décor was an
amazing morass of kitsch and chaos, and it did look like it would be a fun
dining experience. However, that all
changed upon entering the dining room.
It was, well, a bit messy.
There’s nothing more appetizing than sitting next to un-bussed tables of
dehydrating refried beans. The food also left a lot to be desired. I am a vegetarian who eats fish (no comments,
please), and usually have no problem finding a great meal in a Mexican
Restaurant. Mi Tierra’s
vegetarian menu was uninteresting and unappealing. The waitress’ attempt to cobble a meal together
was admirable, but resulted in cheese enchiladas topped with Velveeta
substitute. With the exception of a
small restaurant in Pearsall, Texas, I have not visited a Mexican restaurant
that didn’t offer some sort of vegetarian bean.
I nearly walked out in the middle of my meal, but didn’t have the time
to go searching for a new place to eat.
Rosario’s, on the other hand, was modern Mexican cuisine. Loved the service and loved my meal! The
Margs were great!!
At Pearl Brewery, I ate at La Gloria, Il Sogno Osteria, and
enjoyed coffee at Local. I nearly ate at
Green, which is a vegetarian eatery, but loved La Gloria so much, I darted in
there at the last minute. Local’s coffee
was so awesome. Il Sogno…Mama Mia! It
was one of the best upscale Italian restaurants that I had ever eaten! If I
go back to San Antonio, I will spend more time in this area. The salvation of San Antonio, for me, was the
Pearl Brewery district. Admittedly, I
came to the area for work, so I had very little time to explore, but was able
to see a lot, considering. Pearl
Brewery is a funky, hipster retail and restaurant district that saved the day
for me. If there are other areas of
interest, share them with me!
Lastly, I went to Pearsall, Texas.
Nothing to say except the cattle auction I went to was a little
shocking. I’m surprised they allowed
photos. That’s all I’ll say.
From what I experienced, San Antone seems to be a city in
transition. That is a good thing. I hope there is more of the Pearl Brewery
sort of transitioning in San Antonio. Generally,
I oppose gentrification that displaces poor people, but from what I was told,
these new hipster areas saved the city from urban blight. While the River Walk is a great idea and has
certainly revitalized that area, it just wasn’t my thing, but it does appeal to
most tourists. It’s easy and safe, but I
only went once. I prefer to travel like
a local. But that’s just me. Go and see for yourself, and then drive an
hour to my fave, Austin!
To see photos, check out my website: www.highdesertlotus.com. Newest posts are under, "The American Southwest."
Sunday, November 23, 2014
Addams Family Thanksgiving
I find this scene from Addams Family Values a light-hearted and hilarious First Thanksgiving myth-buster aside from King of the Hill's version in "Spin the Choice." AFV shines a light on stereotypes about both groups, and cleverly infuses anachronisms and history that are just plain wrong. But, that's just the point.
What's Thanksgiving?
As you savor that last bite of pumpkin pie this Thanksgiving,
here’s some food for thought that may cause, well, some indigestion. The first Thanksgiving? Where was it exactly? Plimoth Plantation? San Elizario?
Where? In grammar school, most of us were taught
that it was Plimoth, spelled Plymouth.
But who decided that history?
Where’s the paper trail? We’ve
come to accept these truths, but
really, whose truth is it? When I began
writing this post, I decided not to address the hypocrisy of the Thanksgiving
story, which conjures a bucolic scene of Pilgrims (colonists) and Indians
joined together in a hearty meal that symbolized peace on earth and good will.
This was going to be an East Coast-West Coast, well, Southwest discussion of
whether Thanksgiving was first “celebrated” in Texas. But, the more I researched and thought about
it, I just couldn’t ignore the myth that continues to be told this time of
year. I feel compelled to delve into the myth that covers a campaign of genocide against this country’s first
peoples.
Many historians agree that the source work for the
Thanksgiving story was borne out of passages from letters of two contemporaries
who were present at the feast. Edward
Winslow’s letter to England and the writings of Governor William Bradford are
referenced as the smoking gun for this pleasant meal amongst friends:
And God be praised
we had a good increase . . .Our harvest being gotten in, our governor sent four
men on fowling, that so we might after a special manner rejoice together after
we had gathered the fruit of our labors. They four in one day killed as much
fowl as, with a little help beside, served the company almost a week. At which
time, amongst other recreations, we exercised our arms, many of the Indians
coming amongst us, and among the rest their greatest king Massasoit, with some
ninety men, whom for three days we entertained and feasted, and they went out
and killed five deer, which they brought to the plantation and bestowed on our
governor, and upon the captain and others. And although it be not always so
plentiful as it was at this time with us, yet by the goodness of God, we are so
far from want that we often wish you partakers of our plenty.
Edward
Winslow, Mourt’s
Relation: D.B. Heath, ed. Applewood Books. Cambridge, 1986. p 82
They began now to
gather in the small harvest they had, and to fit up their houses and dwellings
against winter, being all well recovered in health and strength and had all
things in good plenty. For as some were thus employed in affairs abroad, others
were exercised in fishing, about cod and bass and other fish of which they took
good store, of which every family had their portion. All the summer there was
no want; and now began to come in store of fowl, as winter approached, of which
is place did abound when they came first (but afterward decreased by degrees).
And besides waterfowl there was great store of wild turkeys, of which they took
many, besides venison, etc. Besides, they had about a peck a meal a week to a
person, or now since harvest, Indian corn to that proportion. Which made many
afterwards write so largely of their plenty here to their friends in England,
which were not feigned but true reports.
William Bradford, Of
Plymouth Plantation: S.E. Morison, ed.
Knopf. N.Y., 1952. p 90
I have read and reread these passages and have
trouble reading into them, the story of brotherhood and good will toward the
Indians. The good increase, or harvest
that is referred to was due to Squanto, a former kidnapped member of the
Wampanoag tribe, who served as a translator and guide to the colonists on how
to plant and maintain crops on the fertile land. Most historians agree that the exercise of
arms was the shooting of guns in celebration, much like people do on New Year’s
in some parts of the U.S. The colonists were shooting to celebrate a bountiful
harvest that would sustain them through winter. Prior to this day in 1621,
Massasoit, the Wampanoag chief had entered a mutual treaty of protection and
land sharing, so when the Wampanoags heard the gunfire, Massasoit assembled 90 men
to investigate and render aid, if necessary.
I have found no writings that indicate that Indian women and children
were at this gathering. It is clear from
the passage that there was not enough food for everyone, so the Wampanoags went
out and killed game and presented it to Governor Bradford as a gift. Wampanoag historians say that the Indians
camped nearby, and likely never sat and ate with the Pilgrims. It doesn’t sound like they were invited
guests. “…many of the Indians came
amongst us.” It stands to reason, if
relations were so harmonious, the writer would have said that they invited them
to share in their good fortune, right? The continuation of the passage indicates
that a tolerant relationship existed at some point.
We have found the Indians very faithful
in their covenant of peace with us; very loving and ready to pleasure us: we
often go to them, and they come to us; some of us have been fifty miles by land
in the country with them; the occasions and relations whereof you shall
understand by our general and more full declaration of such things as are worth
the noting, yea, it hath pleased God so to possess the Indians with a fear of
us, and love unto us, that not only the greatest king amongst them called
Massasoit, but also all the princes and peoples round about us, have either
made suit unto us, or been glad of any occasion to make peace with us, so that
seven of them at once have sent their messengers to us to that end, yea, an Fle
at sea, which we never saw hath also together with the former yielded willingly
to be under the protection, and subjects to our sovereign Lord King James, so
that there is now great peace amongst the Indians themselves, which was not
formerly, neither would have been but for us; and we for our parts walk as
peaceably and safely in the wood, as in the highways in England, we entertain
them familiarly in our houses, and they as friendly bestowing their venison on
us. They are a people without any religion, or knowledge of any God, yet very
trusty, quick of apprehension, ripe- witted, just, the men and women go naked,
only a skin about their middles; for the temper of the air, here it agreeth
well with that in England, and if there be any difference at all, this is
somewhat hotter in summer, some think it to be colder in winter, but I cannot
out of experience so say; the air is very clear and not foggy, as hath been
reported.
Edward
Winslow, Mourt’s
Relation
While the colonists seemed to make nice, the
writer’s attitude toward the Indians is stunningly paternalistic and
condescending. Governor Bradford’s own
words are even more instructive of the attitudes toward the Indians, just
months before.
“All this while the Indians
came skulking about them, and would sometimes show themselves aloof off, but
when any approached near them, they would run away; and once they stole away
their tools where they had been at work and were gone to dinner.”
He later talks about Sachem
(Massasoit) and Squanto, who assisted the colony in planting, fishing trading,
not with any thanks to Squanto or the Indians, but to God, and, rather with a
sense of entitlement.
Squanto continued with them
and was their interpreter and was a special instrument sent of God for their
good beyond their expectation. He directed them how to set their corn, where to
take fish, and to procure other commodities, and was also their pilot to bring
them to unknown places for their profit, and never left them till he died.
William Bradford: History of Plymouth Plantation, c. 1650.
By some accounts the colonists were 50 in number,
by others, 25. It is dubious that 90
Indian males would be welcomed for dinner with only enough fowl to last a week.
Our collective amnesia or blindness, however, allows us only to remember a
bucolic scene, which turned out to be the calm before the storm of genocide
exacted upon the Indians across the colony and New England, just a few years
later.
I even visited the Plimoth Plantation website to see what
story the curators of this living museum tell of arguably, their most important
day. It is revealing that the writer for
the site tries hard not not perpetuate this myth. The site does not explicitly state that the Winslow
or Bradford writings were the retelling of the first Thanksgiving, but instead,
focus on the evolution of the holiday into what we know today. In fact, the website mentions that in the
early 20th century, a shift occurred in talking about the Pilgrims,
and it became a teaching tool for good citizenry. The writer is careful to sidestep
the topic, but the proverbial, “elephant in the room” is implicit in the article’s
tone. I was most impressed with the
children’s interactive feature that walks the amateur historian through audio
recordings in the voices of the colonists and the Indians.
But why do some cling to this myth? Do you think that Mr. Bradford’s and Mr.
Winslow’s accounts support such a view?
Are the colonists really conveying any sense of friendship with the
Wampanoags? Were their words a
forewarning of how people diffent from themselves would be encountered and tolerated? Weren’t these religious
people, the separatists? Later, in History of Plymouth Plantation, Bradford
mentioned the return of the stolen tools along with other gifts from the
Indians. Was it an afterthought, or less important than reporting the “theft?”
While a relative
peace lasted for between the Wampanoags and the Bradford Colony, other Indian
bands did not enjoy the same treatment.
In fact, 17 years later, “the governor
of Bay Colony declared a day of thanksgiving for the safe return of those who
had been dispatched and participated in the annihilation of over 700 men, women
and children.” According
to Professor William B. Newell, formerly of the University of Connecticut, “a
massacre of men, women and children was perpetrated by the colonists during the
Pequot holy days when they assembled in the long house. Gathered in this place of meeting, they were
attacked by mercenaries and English and Dutch. The Indians were ordered from
the building and as they came forth were shot down, the rest were burned alive
in the building. The very next day the governor declared a Thanksgiving
Day." The Pequotwar.org website reports a
similar history of what befell the Pequots.
In the last hours of moonlight, May 26, 1637,
English Puritans, with Mohegan and Narragansett allies, surround the fortified
Pequot village at Missituck (Mystic). Within an hour, 400-700 men, women, and
children are put to the sword or burned to death as the English torch the
village. Unfamiliar with war targeted at civilians, for the first time Native
Tribes experience the total devastating effects of warfare practiced by
Europeans. The Mystic massacre turned the tide against the Pequots and broke
the tribe's resistance. Many Pequots in other villages escape and hide
among other tribes. After the massacre, Governor John Winthrop proclaimed the first official "Day
of Thanksgiving" in 1637 to celebrate the return of men that had gone to Mystic, Connecticut to
fight against the Pequot.
Chilling.
On the bright side, there is an alternative story of
Thanksgiving being floated. It is the
story of San Elizario, Texas in 1598, some 23 years before the Plimouth shindig. It actually had nothing to do with Indians,
good will or peace on earth. It was
about conquest, and claiming land for the Spanish Crown. Don Juan de Onate, the Spanish Conquistador,
marched into the area with 500 Mexican and Spanish colonists, their
livestock and supplies, stretching over a mile wide. The exhausted
colonists enjoyed a repast of fowl, fruit and water on April 28, 1598, after
Onate took possession of the territory for King Phillip of Spain. He
requested the Catholic friars to say a high mass of Thanksgiving, which was a
special Catholic worship service.[1] They left the area the
next day to press on to present-day Santa Fe.
Although they called it El Paso del Norte, the area was divided by
the Rio Grande River, where the southern bank would eventually remain in Mexico
as Ciudad de Juarez, and the northern bank would become present day El Paso,
Texas after changing "many hands."
The Spanish erected the Nuestra
Señora de Guadalupe Mission on the southern bank in 1659. In
1680, after the Pueblo Revolt, the village of El Paso became the Spanish seat
of government when the Puebloans drove them from Santa Fe, New Mexico. In
1692, the Spanish seat returned to Santa Fe, after the Don Antonio Otermin
reclaimed the territory in a bloody genocide of the Ysleta and Sandia Pueblo
Indians.
El Paso was in New Mexico territory, and was the
largest New Mexican Settlement until its cession to the United States in 1848. Then, it was declared part of the state of
Texas in 1850. Straight forward enough? Well, this story is not without
controversy. In January, 2014, the El
Paso Times was reporting that the San Elizario Genealogy and Historical Society
called this first Thanksgiving story into question. They claim it was the
brainchild and marketing campaign of Sheldon Hall, a founder of the El Paso
Mission Trail Association. For its
successful promotion, the campaign apparently translated into funding from the
state government. If that is so, why
does the San Elizario Genealogy and Historical Society website, at this
writing, still provide a page for the “1st Thanksgiving and Don Juan
de Onate?”
What we do know is that the account that Onate
entered El Paso and took the soil for the crown is true. Does it really matter if we call the feast
after that Thanksgiving? Both events represent
an invasion of the territory.
Ironically, both events represent the eventual genocide of the American
Indian. Read your history on what led to
the Pueblo revolt to know how many Puebloans were lost to the conquistadors
through enslavement and murder. What flies
in the face of reason is the false notion that the meals that were shared, were
with people the colonists considered equals and, for the purpose of spreading
good will. History simply doesn’t
support this view, as heartwarming as it may be.
Some in academia, like sociologist and professor, Dan
Brook believe that we should reflect on what we are really celebrating. ”We do not have to feel guilty, but we do
need to feel something. At the very least, we need to reflect on how and what
we feel. We should also review our history and what it means to us and others,
while we must rethink our adopted traditions, including our Thanksgiving High
Holy Day.” (Celebrating Genocide, Dan Brook, Counterpunch, November 26, 2002). Professor Robert Jensen from the University
of Texas at Austin has suggested that the holiday be replaced with a national
day of atonement.
I propose that while we’re giving thanks with our
families and friends this Thursday, we should genuinely reflect on these
initial contacts, and all who suffered in its wake. The bondage, sexual exploitation, removal, starvation,
disease and genocide should never be forgotten, nor celebrated. The story of the colonists is not a fairy
tale where we all live happily ever after.
For the Indians, Africans, and the women who resisted subjugation and
were branded witches it was a story of sorrow and disquiet. It is important to
remember that the “discovery” of America; the landing on these shores by the
explorers, the colonists, both Pilgrim and Puritans, the specters of manifest
destiny, and westward expansion exacted a heavy toll on everyone in its path,
especially the Indians. The Wampanoags
and other native peoples mourn on the fourth Thursday in November every year at
Plymouth. Why don’t we? When will we collectively mourn the sins of
the colonists and the founding fathers instead of making up a cartoonish
holiday to make it all feel right? When will it feel okay to tell the truth
about our history? When will the victors stop arguing that these events
happened a long time ago, so they shouldn’t have to feel anything about what their ancestors did? Does the passage of
time erase our history? Should history
be written in disappearing ink? It has been said that we are doomed to repeat
history if we never acknowledge the sins of the past, yet we are outraged and
sometimes moved to action when we see a story on the evening news about pit
bulls forced to fight. Yes, of course,
we should abhor animal cruelty, but we should also be moved by the effect of a
legacy of colonization, subjugation and the forced removal of people in the
quest for independence and democracy.
Especially when the effects continue to manifest today. The truth of these interactions in 1621
should be acknowledged, shared, and lamented around the roast turkey, along
with our individual blessings. Let’s
embrace this proposal and not yawn. (The vanquished are still here, and in this
moment are throwing off the cloak of defeat).
Perhaps then, the animus, suspicion and injury can gradually remove, and
a healing history can be written in indelible ink.
Reflect on this Turkey Day!
References not listed above:
For those who want to underscore the fact that
these references are largely from the internet, yes, you are correct. This is
not abstract for a thesis; it’s not even a book report. It’s a blog post composed largely of my
opinion, so on this subject, I didn’t feel compelled to read a bunch of books
that perpetuate the myth. That list is reported below. Reading the original source work by Winslow
and Bradford was probably all that I needed to consult. How instructive those
entries are! Some of the articles and sources reflect a Native American
perspective as well as some open-minded academicians who have researched this subject. I hope that if you, reader, do not begin a
dialogue on this issue with me, you will with your friends and family,
especially your children. It’s time to
hear all voices so that we can reconstruct our fractured history.
San Elizario Genealogical Society and Historical
Society. http://www.epcounty.com/sanelizariomuseum/history_thanksgiving.htm
Plimoth Plantation website. http://www.plimoth.org/learn/MRL/read/thanksgiving-history; http://www.plimoth.org/learn/MRL/interact/thanksgiving-interactive-you-are-historian
“The Wampanoag Side of the First Thanksgiving
Story” http://indiancountrytodaymedianetwork.com/2011/11/22/wampanoag-side-first-thanksgiving-story-64076
Exploring the Economics of the First
Thanksgiving: http://www.pbs.org/newshour/bb/business-july-dec13-plantation_11-28/
Mourt’s Relation
Source: Documents of Holland, 13 Volume Colonial
Documentary History, letters and reports form colonial officials to their
superiors and the King in England and the private papers of Sir William
Johnson, British Indian agent for the New York colony for 30 years. Researched
by William B. Newell (Penobscot Tribe) Former Chairman of the University of
Connecticut Anthropology Department.
[1] Just as the religious celebration
of the birth of Christ (Christmas) has been coopted into a secular, commercial
holiday, the modern thanksgiving traditon has suffered the same fate by
adoption of feel good Pilgrim story, celebrated through turkey, stuffing, and
Black Friday. (A day of Thanksgiving in
the Catholic tradition is a day of high praise to the Lord, God through
celebration of the Eucharist; the Jewish tradition celebrate Sukkot.
William Bradford, a hebraist studied these traditions extensively, and
arguably incorporated them into the separatist religious traditions; the Church
of England from which the Puritans separated, celebrate the Day of Thanksgiving
for the Institution of the Holy Communion.
Some of these traditions find roots in the pagan harvest festivals.)
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