I want you to open your mind, just for a moment, and read this from another perspective than your own.
Imagine if your family adopted a child from a culture far different from your own, a culture who celebrated different customs than you, and celebrated different holidays, and had no idea what our holidays were, and what was our norm' for them.
So imagine being that child, who has no idea what's in store for him in this new life full of fancy lights, electronics, easy to reach food and water, and etc.
Now imagine it's been a year since you've been there, give or a take a month.
These people sit you down at a table, and they're all smiling at you, but won't tell you why. They begin dancing around the table that you're sitting at, and chanting. You don't quite have the English skills to keep up with their chants, but you catch certain words, like "Happy," and "You." It makes you uneasy, how they continue to chant it.
Just then, the dominant male in the house, the one you've come to call your father, walks into the circle of people chanting, smiling from ear to ear, holding a white mass on a plate, which has been stabbed repetitively by small torches.
He then places a large blade beside you, and wraps your hand around the hilt.
The chanting stops, and everyone stares at you, wide eyed, and smiling, waiting for you to proceed.
The dominant male leans in closely, grinning, and breathes into your ear,
"Happy birthday, son."