Fourth of July on Mars . . .

Since I moved to the UK there are only two US holidays that I really struggle with, the first is the Fourth of July and the second is Thanksgiving. I struggle because they are so uniquely American, so integral to what makes Americans, well...American, that you can't find anything similar to them in the UK. Despite what Americans, think they are not global holidays. My first Thanksgiving in the UK was horrible.  I spent the day putting on a very brave face. I was a week into my first job in a foreign country and I didn't want to seem like a whiny kid. When I got home, my English husband of just over a month had prepared a feast of wine, chicken and chips and cake. I had asked him not to make/buy anything American because it just wouldn't be the same. I burst into tears. This wasn't Thanksgiving. It wasn't even close. I called home and spoke to my family, kept my voice light and thought, I can do this, I can do this.

But I really couldn't. It wasn't 'til about two years later that I understood why I couldn't.

Being in a foreign country (for the long haul, for life) on the same day as an important holiday back in the homeland is like celebrating the Fourth of July on Mars. It's just another day. It has no meaning. The idea that something fundamentally important to your life is just another day is beyond depressing. It's also beyond comprehension. Because that day, that day that you spent the first 20 odd years of your life marking as vital, as special, is now just another day. The loss of that specialness, that uniqueness, broke my heart. You can say all you want that you'll keep the holiday in your own way (more on that later), but you don't. You allow yourself to be changed. You give away this piece of yourself to fit into this new world that you live in. Giving up that part of yourself, the part that expects fireworks, family, BBQs and the beach, is filled with a sense of loss.

The people I've met in the UK are really lovely, and do listen to me natter on and on about brilliant Fourth of July memories, or why it's important (which is really above and beyond, considering it's our Independence Day from their country), but it's not the same.

This year will be my 6th Fourth of July in the UK. I have to work. Usually I take the day off. So does my husband. We get up early and go out somewhere. Anywhere. If the weather is nice we go to the beach. If it's dreadful (which seems to be the theme this summer) we'll go to a movie or museum. We mark the day by being together. Our first few years I used to tell my husband that the Fourth of July was a "presents holiday." He didn't believe me, but I think he went along with it because of how glum I tend to get. I told him that if he didn't give me a present every Fourth of July I had the right, as an American, to declare Independence. So now I always get a little present every Fourth of July. Is it the same as seeing my family? Is it the same as the fireworks? Is it the same as having the day off and chilling at a BBQ or by the beach? No.

Part of moving to a new country means you have to take on new holidays--some are fantastic (I am the world's biggest supporter of Boxing Day--getting the day after Christmas off--jackpot!), others will be as incomprehensible to you as the Fourth of July is to them (Guy Fawkes Day). In the process of taking on new holidays you have to find a way to assimilate the days that matter to you into this new country, this Martian landscape which at times feels so familiar and yet is so different. It's about the things you do to make new traditions that matter. You can't force a holiday or feeling on another country. But you can make something new. Something that becomes special.


So, this year I'll get my 'don't declare independence day' present, and on Thanksgiving we'll have chicken and chips, because that's our tradition. It will never be the same as when I lived in the US. It can't be.

I'm alright with that. It's new. And while new is strange and scary, sometimes it's wonderful too.

Happy Fourth of July!