So yesterday I celebrated my 8th month day here. Eight months into this and this week has been encouraging in little ways other than the natural passing of time to move me from new visitor to a person who can get around town feeling more like a local. Like on the bus yesterday I had this little feeling of ‘home’. I probably can’t explain it very well, it was just a glimmer, a little feeling of not just being familiar with the bus route but actually feeling at home. And I thought, “I’ve felt this before, a long time ago in a place far away” It’s actually starting to feel like home here.
I bought ice cream and corn & poppyseed chips and me and Amy (the girl I’m living with now) watched a little American tv (thank you itunes) and celebrated. I need to celebrate more here. I like that my friend pointed out (I think rob bell from the big church in MI did a talk on this that she heard) that God is serious about rest and celebration. I want to be serious about those things too.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Moving House
After six months (to the day) I moved out of the local family’s house into the American family’s house where I was my first month. I was quite sad to go and yet I knew it was time. The family were going to be in America for the summer and a gal by herself would be staying at the house. It was a nice exit for me to tell my local family I didn’t want this gal to be by herself for the summer and their university aged son was now home for the summer. It just made sense to move. I was also at a point where I needed some more space and time. I am grateful they let me stay with them for so long- six months with a stranger in the house!! I learnt language, tv shows, cooking, cleaning, interacting, hosting, making tea. I know I would not have learnt these things in my first few months if I hadn’t been with a local family. I would do it again. I would recommend it. I would do it differently. That is, I would take more regular time away with other English speakers, other people who I understand their culture. I only spent about 5 or 6 nights away from the house during my six months. I think I would take one night (and the days on either side) a week or every other week to spend time being understood and understanding. Fellowshiping, sharing, being me the American.
Sunday Picnic
This totally was not how I would have planned anything like this. I would have done it so completely different. And patted myself on the back. He knew that and so he beat me to it, and I’ll pat him on the back. Nice work!
I have a friend who’s a local. She’s knows I am a believer and has asked a little about what we do Sunday mornings. It’s never worked out for her to come with me. Until... one Sunday during the service she sends me a text message. I wanted to make sure I valued our friendship- she knew where I was at that time. So I texted back and told her we’re singing some songs. A few minutes later she called me. And as socially unacceptable as it was I answered and went outside. We were having a picnic afterwards so I invited her to come on out to it. She got directions and I told her it’d be about 12:30 or 1. I was excited to hang out with her again, she is very patient with my language and I like talking with her. I met her mom, too, who is lovely and we were able to laugh and joke. I went to her house for lunch one time and her mom said, “You aren’t eating very much” when we were on desserts (yes-plural). I told her I can either eat or talk. Her mom said laughingly with her mouth full of baklava dripping with sugar syrup, “No, just do it like this”. I said your language is hard enough for me without my mouth full of food. We laughed. So this friend is fun to hang out with and now she was coming to a picnic.
And He laughed. My friend got there at 12:10 just in time to hear a local girl share her story and be publicly brought into the family. My friend had to leave about ten minutes later but she heard it all. This local girl shared her story and my friend was there. I so would not have done it that way, even invited my friend to that service because usually everything is in English! Oh how he works! So think of my friend H. Thanks.
I have a friend who’s a local. She’s knows I am a believer and has asked a little about what we do Sunday mornings. It’s never worked out for her to come with me. Until... one Sunday during the service she sends me a text message. I wanted to make sure I valued our friendship- she knew where I was at that time. So I texted back and told her we’re singing some songs. A few minutes later she called me. And as socially unacceptable as it was I answered and went outside. We were having a picnic afterwards so I invited her to come on out to it. She got directions and I told her it’d be about 12:30 or 1. I was excited to hang out with her again, she is very patient with my language and I like talking with her. I met her mom, too, who is lovely and we were able to laugh and joke. I went to her house for lunch one time and her mom said, “You aren’t eating very much” when we were on desserts (yes-plural). I told her I can either eat or talk. Her mom said laughingly with her mouth full of baklava dripping with sugar syrup, “No, just do it like this”. I said your language is hard enough for me without my mouth full of food. We laughed. So this friend is fun to hang out with and now she was coming to a picnic.
And He laughed. My friend got there at 12:10 just in time to hear a local girl share her story and be publicly brought into the family. My friend had to leave about ten minutes later but she heard it all. This local girl shared her story and my friend was there. I so would not have done it that way, even invited my friend to that service because usually everything is in English! Oh how he works! So think of my friend H. Thanks.
Friday, June 12, 2009
A Visit
My friends from Wales came for a week. It was absolutely fantastic. It was great to see them and spend time with them. They were super encouraging to me and it was encouraging from a language perspective to be able to translate for them and share how much language I had actually picked up!
We spent some time seeing the sights of the city, my host family had some of the ladies over for tea one afternoon and we all went out to a tiny village (600 people) for an overnight trip. That was an experience! For me it was great to get out of the city again, and to really test my language. I have gotten the basics down so to have other people depending on my language and be in a different environment was quite refreshing.
We went in three taxis to a little city about 4 hours away where the taxis drivers were from. They had never taken foreigners to their town so they didn’t really know what to do. We were a group who had never done anything like this before and didn’t want to put our expectations onto the taxi drivers so I felt there was a lot of, “What do you want to do?” “I don’t know what do you want to do?” between drivers, the 2 of us language speakers, and the group’s leaders. So that freedom lead us be the first foreigners to visit a little town (maybe 3000 people), to meet the mayor, pray for him and the town, visit a few schools and say hello to (what felt like)several hundred school kids! Then we headed on to our destination.
We got into the village and I wanted to just get to the houses where we were eating dinner but the other taxis had the good idea to stop at the little school on our way into the village. There we were warmly received by 175 kids, 15 teachers or so and the English teacher got to practice her translating too. I’m so glad we stopped. They sang songs for us, wanted us to sign scraps of paper, gave us wildflowers from the field behind the school. Foreigners had come to their village!
They wanted to show us their local mosque. 200 million dollars spent on a beautifully tiled mosque. I was surprised the kids were running around inside- I guess it’s more of a community hall than a sacred religious room. They let us take pictures of the bright chandeliers, the tiles, the kids and the old men who proudly pointed around the room. Then we asked if we could pray. So an old man prayed, then we prayed. While we were there we never heard a call from the minaret, don’t know if they have a religious leader in that village or not.
Then we (I felt- finally! my patience was not as long as others in my group!) got to the house were we were going to eat dinner. The village leader came and we chatted a bit. I asked where the kitchen was and a few of us joined the women (and about 14 kids) and started chopping vegetables and enjoying the company of villagers. I like that friendly silence is okay here and you don’t have to keep the conversation rolling. Although with 14 kids about you can go a long way with just a few questions, “What’s your name? (14 answers) What’s your favorite color? (14 answers) Do you have siblings? (14 answers)” etc. There was an 18 year old girl there and she was so sweet. I helped her get bowls from the neighbors house and lay the table.
After dinner then we split up and went to three different houses to sleep. We were all quite tired so were glad they didn’t want to give us another cup of tea when we got to the homes. I think I introduced myself to the same woman about 4 times before realizing it.
In the morning we taught some English back at the school and were on our way. I can’t wait to go back!
We spent some time seeing the sights of the city, my host family had some of the ladies over for tea one afternoon and we all went out to a tiny village (600 people) for an overnight trip. That was an experience! For me it was great to get out of the city again, and to really test my language. I have gotten the basics down so to have other people depending on my language and be in a different environment was quite refreshing.
We went in three taxis to a little city about 4 hours away where the taxis drivers were from. They had never taken foreigners to their town so they didn’t really know what to do. We were a group who had never done anything like this before and didn’t want to put our expectations onto the taxi drivers so I felt there was a lot of, “What do you want to do?” “I don’t know what do you want to do?” between drivers, the 2 of us language speakers, and the group’s leaders. So that freedom lead us be the first foreigners to visit a little town (maybe 3000 people), to meet the mayor, pray for him and the town, visit a few schools and say hello to (what felt like)several hundred school kids! Then we headed on to our destination.
We got into the village and I wanted to just get to the houses where we were eating dinner but the other taxis had the good idea to stop at the little school on our way into the village. There we were warmly received by 175 kids, 15 teachers or so and the English teacher got to practice her translating too. I’m so glad we stopped. They sang songs for us, wanted us to sign scraps of paper, gave us wildflowers from the field behind the school. Foreigners had come to their village!
They wanted to show us their local mosque. 200 million dollars spent on a beautifully tiled mosque. I was surprised the kids were running around inside- I guess it’s more of a community hall than a sacred religious room. They let us take pictures of the bright chandeliers, the tiles, the kids and the old men who proudly pointed around the room. Then we asked if we could pray. So an old man prayed, then we prayed. While we were there we never heard a call from the minaret, don’t know if they have a religious leader in that village or not.
Then we (I felt- finally! my patience was not as long as others in my group!) got to the house were we were going to eat dinner. The village leader came and we chatted a bit. I asked where the kitchen was and a few of us joined the women (and about 14 kids) and started chopping vegetables and enjoying the company of villagers. I like that friendly silence is okay here and you don’t have to keep the conversation rolling. Although with 14 kids about you can go a long way with just a few questions, “What’s your name? (14 answers) What’s your favorite color? (14 answers) Do you have siblings? (14 answers)” etc. There was an 18 year old girl there and she was so sweet. I helped her get bowls from the neighbors house and lay the table.
After dinner then we split up and went to three different houses to sleep. We were all quite tired so were glad they didn’t want to give us another cup of tea when we got to the homes. I think I introduced myself to the same woman about 4 times before realizing it.
In the morning we taught some English back at the school and were on our way. I can’t wait to go back!
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Birthday
My birthday was this past Tuesday. It also happens to be on a National Holiday. I went for ice cream with some friends Monday night and considered it celebrated. I went with some classmates and some friends from church. There were 5 nationalities in the group of 7 people and the common language was ice cream and the local language. It was low-key and fun.
Then Tuesday I made french toast, real coffee that I had received as a gift, went to the church for the regular Tuesday open afternoon hours and my friends decided we needed to go out for dinner as it was actually my birthday. We went to a nice (read- expensive) restaurant and had steak fajitas which were delicious. It was nice to go to a place that had American/Mexican/non local fast food. It was nice out and we sat outside. Then we had real coffee again and snickerdoodles back at their house. So delish! My life has included way too much Nescafe recently.
Then Wednesday I was kind of surprised again by my host family and had friends over and cake with sparklers in it. wow! Three days of celebrating. I was happy with just the ice cream...
I am glad to have friends to celebrate with here!
Then Tuesday I made french toast, real coffee that I had received as a gift, went to the church for the regular Tuesday open afternoon hours and my friends decided we needed to go out for dinner as it was actually my birthday. We went to a nice (read- expensive) restaurant and had steak fajitas which were delicious. It was nice to go to a place that had American/Mexican/non local fast food. It was nice out and we sat outside. Then we had real coffee again and snickerdoodles back at their house. So delish! My life has included way too much Nescafe recently.
Then Wednesday I was kind of surprised again by my host family and had friends over and cake with sparklers in it. wow! Three days of celebrating. I was happy with just the ice cream...
I am glad to have friends to celebrate with here!
Ducks
On Mother's Day I got home and found two little ducks at our house. We live in an apartment in a city of 4 million and I'm not really a fan of animals in the house, but there are plenty of things I don't understand about living here.
The ducks were yellow and fluffy and relatively cute I suppose. The family had them in a cardboard box about the size of a mirowave with a little dish of water and a little bowl of chopped lettuce. They were in the living room and everyone was crowding around the box watching them.
I was surprised that they were surprised when one of the duckies got into the waterdish and started splashing around. When I think of ducks I think of ducks in water being wet. Anyway the family was surprised and so the 13 year old son kindly and carefully picked up the silly wet duck and took the little thing into the hallway. Then he very lovingly got the hairdryer and blow-dried the duck dry.
The next night it happened again.
I haven't seen the ducks for a few days. I don't know what happened to them.
The ducks were yellow and fluffy and relatively cute I suppose. The family had them in a cardboard box about the size of a mirowave with a little dish of water and a little bowl of chopped lettuce. They were in the living room and everyone was crowding around the box watching them.
I was surprised that they were surprised when one of the duckies got into the waterdish and started splashing around. When I think of ducks I think of ducks in water being wet. Anyway the family was surprised and so the 13 year old son kindly and carefully picked up the silly wet duck and took the little thing into the hallway. Then he very lovingly got the hairdryer and blow-dried the duck dry.
The next night it happened again.
I haven't seen the ducks for a few days. I don't know what happened to them.
Conflict
Right now there is a 4 year old in my room looking at her teeth in my mirror. It took us two months before we could understand each other, with my accent and bad grammar, and with her fast talking/shouting about whatever subject that crossed her mind. She has been great for my language learning and I’m glad that she’s around because I can watch children’s tv programs all day and learn all sorts of cultural things that way.
She has also taught me what it’s like to have a little sister as I never had one. And God has used her to teach me other things but right now I’m still trying to figure out what those are. A few weeks ago I got home one day and went into my room that the family has graciously given to me these last five months. I found my necklace on the floor, my makeup open and broken with little fingernail prints in it, clothes off the hangers in my cupboard and things generally rifled through. I was mad and upset and glad they were not at home right then.
This presented me with my first opportunity to deal with conflict in my new language with a local who has a different outlook on life. And who is four years old. I know this is a shame culture and not a guilt culture but what does that really mean? I didn’t even know what I wanted to happen, but I knew I was upset and wanted to let the family know how I was feeling. For months I was set on the attitude of ‘just accept things that are different, don’t ask why, it may not make sense to me but they have a reason for it’ and I think when just arriving that is a healthy outlook to take instead of immediatly thinking they do things ‘wrong’ here. However five months into this and I need to keep in reality that I function differently and allow myself to be upset when my personal belongings get messed with.
So when the little girl came into my room a few minutes later (I hadn’t finished praying about how to deal with the situation or even finished being mad yet) I asked her where she got something that was opened. She said out in the living room. Lie. I asked her again because maybe I said it wrong, misunderstood whatever. Living room. Lie again. I asked if she was lying. No. Lie again. (the wrapper was in English and from CVS in America). Again asked if she was lying. No. (Hmm, are we up to is that 4 lies?) She was a bit shyer and uncomfortable and the evidence was obvious. I told her not to lie to me. And she left my room. Apparently I wanted a confession.
Soon dinner was on the table and we sat down to eat. The little girl was whispering things to her mom and after dinner she was being rude to me in the (almost cute) way 4 year olds get mad. I asked her mom what she was saying because I couldn’t quite pick out what she was saying. Her mom said we weren’t talking. Oh, news to me. I hadn’t mentioned anything about the makeup, scavenging in my room etc. and was still trying how to figure out how to tell the family in a way appropriate way. But since the little girl said we weren’t talking I wanted let her know what happened. So I told her mom. They talked in the hall (ok, mom talked while she screamed). Then the little girl was mad at me for four days. Still no confession or a ‘sorry, we’ll try and keep her out of your stuff’. I now keep everything in my cupboard and most stuff on the top shelf. It’s really not quite big enough and everything gets mixed around.
This Sunday I was flipping through my new Message Bible that I wasn’t going to write in and noticed green highlighter on a random passage and scribbles on the back few pages. Four year old type scribbles. I wanted to cry. Seriously. Then I was sad that it bothered me because I say I’d love to share this book with people but only if they don’t scribble on it and make me mad. I’ve read somewhere that people when they first move countries they don’t have lots to report back about the people they’re around because they are too busy learning about themselves and it’s not glamorous to say what they’ve learnt. It’s more exciting to tell the stories about other people coming to the realization that they are materialistic and only want to have a relationship with God on their terms. So I guess you’ll have to wait for the glamorous stories.
She has also taught me what it’s like to have a little sister as I never had one. And God has used her to teach me other things but right now I’m still trying to figure out what those are. A few weeks ago I got home one day and went into my room that the family has graciously given to me these last five months. I found my necklace on the floor, my makeup open and broken with little fingernail prints in it, clothes off the hangers in my cupboard and things generally rifled through. I was mad and upset and glad they were not at home right then.
This presented me with my first opportunity to deal with conflict in my new language with a local who has a different outlook on life. And who is four years old. I know this is a shame culture and not a guilt culture but what does that really mean? I didn’t even know what I wanted to happen, but I knew I was upset and wanted to let the family know how I was feeling. For months I was set on the attitude of ‘just accept things that are different, don’t ask why, it may not make sense to me but they have a reason for it’ and I think when just arriving that is a healthy outlook to take instead of immediatly thinking they do things ‘wrong’ here. However five months into this and I need to keep in reality that I function differently and allow myself to be upset when my personal belongings get messed with.
So when the little girl came into my room a few minutes later (I hadn’t finished praying about how to deal with the situation or even finished being mad yet) I asked her where she got something that was opened. She said out in the living room. Lie. I asked her again because maybe I said it wrong, misunderstood whatever. Living room. Lie again. I asked if she was lying. No. Lie again. (the wrapper was in English and from CVS in America). Again asked if she was lying. No. (Hmm, are we up to is that 4 lies?) She was a bit shyer and uncomfortable and the evidence was obvious. I told her not to lie to me. And she left my room. Apparently I wanted a confession.
Soon dinner was on the table and we sat down to eat. The little girl was whispering things to her mom and after dinner she was being rude to me in the (almost cute) way 4 year olds get mad. I asked her mom what she was saying because I couldn’t quite pick out what she was saying. Her mom said we weren’t talking. Oh, news to me. I hadn’t mentioned anything about the makeup, scavenging in my room etc. and was still trying how to figure out how to tell the family in a way appropriate way. But since the little girl said we weren’t talking I wanted let her know what happened. So I told her mom. They talked in the hall (ok, mom talked while she screamed). Then the little girl was mad at me for four days. Still no confession or a ‘sorry, we’ll try and keep her out of your stuff’. I now keep everything in my cupboard and most stuff on the top shelf. It’s really not quite big enough and everything gets mixed around.
This Sunday I was flipping through my new Message Bible that I wasn’t going to write in and noticed green highlighter on a random passage and scribbles on the back few pages. Four year old type scribbles. I wanted to cry. Seriously. Then I was sad that it bothered me because I say I’d love to share this book with people but only if they don’t scribble on it and make me mad. I’ve read somewhere that people when they first move countries they don’t have lots to report back about the people they’re around because they are too busy learning about themselves and it’s not glamorous to say what they’ve learnt. It’s more exciting to tell the stories about other people coming to the realization that they are materialistic and only want to have a relationship with God on their terms. So I guess you’ll have to wait for the glamorous stories.
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