The Foreign Service Journal, April 2018

THE FOREIGN SERVICE JOURNAL | APRIL 2018 87 W hen I was 4, my parents brought home silk kimonos from a trip to Japan. It is one of my clearest early memories, as I was awed by the gorgeous silken fabrics, their colors and prints spark- ing my imagination about what people in that part of the worldmust look like. That spark may have been what ignited this Midwestern girl’s desire to travel the world and experience people and places more exotic than anything I could have imagined at the time. As I grew up, the clothing of foreign lands held increasing fascination for me. From the dirndls and lederhosen worn in German communities north of me in Michigan, to the lap-lap an uncle serving in Papua New Guinea sent me, every piece of clothing helped draw cultural images and interest in my mind. Even today, as a globe-traveling spouse, one of the first things I do is check out the traditional fabrics of a country. For me, the beautiful embroi- dery on Ukrainian folk dress, the delicate silks of Thailand, the bold and beautiful color combinations of Africa’s asa oke and kente cloths, and the gorgeous rich saris of India whirl through my head as we plan each international assignment. This is why I both love and loathe the yearly event faced by Foreign Service families everywhere: International Day. At every post, the school asks families to dress in their national dress and bring in a traditional dish to share. It is a feast for both the eyes and the stomach, and each year I desperately wrack my brain to come up with some- thing beautifully American to present. What is traditional American attire? Levi’s and a Gap t-shirt immediately come to mind, but that doesn’t exactly differentiate us from everyone else. In a quest for answers, my fingers took a trip to Google images, where pictures of cowboys and Native American dress were the main suggestions. I’m not from what is considered “cowboy country,” so that didn’t feel quite right, and wearing Native American clothing felt like appropriation. American food offers similar prob- lems. Generally, everybody suggests chocolate chip cookies. These are uniquely American, but it seems we make them constantly, and it’s a good idea to present something savory. Once I cooked an entire Thanksgiv- ing meal, handing out turkey bites with a little dollop of stuffing and cranberry on top with pumpkin pie on the side. It is definitely the traditional American meal, but it requires a crazy amount of work and doesn’t lend itself to handing things out to hordes of people. I tried to make shrimp étouffée another time, both to showcase Creole culture and as an excuse to play jazz at our booth—the one truly American form of art we’ve given the world. But if you don’t have experience cooking Creole, it’s not the easiest to get right. I’ve been threatening for years to stock the table with Coca Cola and Twinkies. Recently, I discussed this dilemma with a friend. She laughed and said, “I put on a hanbok and contribute food to the Korean table.” “But you’re a third-generation Amer- ican, and your husband is German,” I protested. “Yes,” she agreed, “but coming up with some- thing good for America is too difficult.” As we talked, I had a “light-bulb moment.” Maybe we had just touched on the ultimate American idea. Maybe this year at my kids’ International Day I’ll dress them in clothes from all our various posts and grab a little bit of food from all the other tables represented and serve them under a sign that says, “American Melting Pot.” What could be more American than representing the whole world at one table? After all, our outstanding cultural feature seems to be that we’re a blend of everything. Or maybe I’ll just bake chocolate chip cookies. n Laura Keyes Ellsworth is an EFMmarried to an economic officer. They are currently serving in Prague where she is editor-in-chief of the magazine of the International Women’s Association of Prague, The Bridge . International Day: The American Problem BY LAURA KEYES E L LSWORTH FAMILY MEMBER MATTERS