Although I have only lived in the United States as a student, the concept of Thanksgiving is not wholly foreign to me. I could appreciate it from a distance, without having to really understand the custom or experience it in the traditional way. However, what I have come to learn from living here is that when this time of year comes around, and the yellow, orange and red November leaves begin to shrivel and fall to the ground, I can almost hear Thanksgiving’s winged chariot hurrying near. The holiday seems to take on a life of its own, creating an atmosphere that is electric with the energy and excitement that has accumulated from the anticipation of what is to come.

So what exactly is Thanksgiving? That is a question I have pondered over countless rainy days, wondering why giving thanks on this particular day seems to have greater significance than it does during the other 364 days of the year. I’ve came to find it’s more than turkey, pumpkin pie or an excuse for large groups of people to gather together and spend their time gorging down grotesque amounts of food in one day. It is a horrific series of last-minute preparations. The best advice I can give to all the foreigners who have yet to experience Thanksgiving is to flee the country or run and hide, my friends, for you have yet to experience a nation under pressure.

Indeed, Thanksgiving is a special time of year, when hordes of American families rush to supermarkets eager to select the biggest, fattest turkey they can find. However, do not underestimate this seemingly simple task. Although I have yet to make that pilgrimage myself, I’ve heard from the professionals it takes a lot of manpower to walk into a supermarket on the eve of Thanksgiving with the knowledge that you’re about to enter a very hostile “no man’s land” where you are most likely going to get trampled by a stampede of aggressive men and women who are completely oblivious to the fact that their behavior reflects that of animals, rather than of humans — even if it means getting the last can of cranberry sauce or box of turkey stuffing.

I really don’t know what possesses people during Thanksgiving; perhaps it’s some type of chemical imbalance. As this particular holiday approaches, I feel it gives people a certain freedom to defy social norms and express their human nature in its rawest, most brutish form. Before I elaborate on this theory, I believe that it would be impossible to truly understand Thanksgiving and the deep and meaningful bond this nation has with it without first understanding the man or woman behind the holiday. Unless you haven’t already guessed, I’m referring to the creature that has been bred in this corporate habitat and has developed a strong attachment with this nation it considers home — the typical, everyday American.

An American is a very peculiar human specimen. Much like other species of its class, it eats, sleeps, communicates, can use logic and reason (though doesn’t always choose to), but throughout its hopefully long and uncomplicated life, it develops a routine. It doesn’t take long though for it to recognize that this routine can become dull quite quickly; and hence it to reach a breaking point at which our now psychologically unstable specimen screams out in agony “I have measured out my life with coffee spoons!” This is where Thanksgiving comes into the picture, for this joyous day allows us to forget our problems, get together with family and friends and escape, be it only for a brief period of time, from our otherwise monochrome existence and to experience life in color.

But despite the frenzy and the panic of last-minute shopping, Thanksgiving can bring happiness that is otherwise hard to find. It encourages us to take part in the pushing and shoving of turkey fever that has been sweeping the nation and to be accepting of all our family members no matter how much they pester us to tell them every detail of our lives and expect us to answer their endless questions. It teaches us how to remain calm and composed when we would have otherwise exploded with rage because little old grandma insists, despite our repeated objections, on piling our plates with even more food.

Furthermore, it makes us more accepting individuals who can look past the fact that the turkey was burned or the gravy came out too chunky because every bite only reminds us of how much effort the people we care most about invested into cooking the meal, despite how distasteful it may be. At the end of the day, Thanksgiving only reminds us how truly thankful we should be for the friends and family we have who will always love and support us.