It's Thanksgiving, which means a year ago I was explaining to my French flatmates what early American settlers did to the Native Americans while they stared at me in horror and disbelief.
"I'm sure they didn't know the blankets had small pox. I'm sure there was some sort of... misunderstanding. Americans would never do that on purpose."
"They would." I answered. "And they did."
I just realized this might explain why all the candy I brought back for my flatmates after the holidays went uneaten.
And we've arrived at Reason You Should Travel #51: if you don't give the world a way to see Americans, I'm going to do it for you. And you might not like the way I do it.
The best turkey in the world would be a sorry consolation for not getting to spend Thanksgiving in France with amazing flatmates who put up with my antics. But the best chicken in the world would be just fine.
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