Cross-Cultural Living

Ordinary

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laundry-basket-282425_960_720

Learning a new language, interacting with an unfamiliar culture and its customs, living near an orphanage, living near a house of girls rescued from human trafficking, all these things can make my life seem overly exotic to someone living in America.

And while it’s true that living cross-culturally has been known to eat away at my mental and emotional margin, most of my life is extraordinarily . . . ordinary. I wash dishes. I fold laundry. I brush my teeth. I often combine those last two.

I cook. I grocery shop. I get to the end of some days and ask myself just what am I going to feed these people tonight??

I fetch the Band-Aids. I scrub the bathroom. I take care of sick people.

I make sure that my children study and that they play. I make sure that they put away their own laundry and that they brush their own teeth (though not necessarily at the same time).

I get irritable for all the ordinary reasons: being tired, being hungry, being hot. And during certain times of the month, I freak out. Even if I’m not tired, hungry, or hot.

I like to spend time with my husband. I like to spend time with my friends. I like to spend time by myself. (Translation: I like to check Facebook.)

These are not extraordinary things. These are the very ordinary things of my life, and I feel very ordinary doing them. In fact, I did all these things back in America, including the one-handed-laundry-sort.

And maybe, just maybe, you do all these ordinary things too.

Exchange Theory

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In J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Hobbit, Bilbo Baggins leaves his handkerchief at home and insists upon retrieving it before continuing on. The wise wizard, Gandalf, informs him, “You will have to do without pocket handkerchiefs and a great many other things before we reach our journey’s end.”  Indeed, there are things we must do without in Cambodia. But we also have Exchanges and Equivalencies for many aspects of our life in America.

(Unfortunately, this theory applies to unpleasantness as well as pleasantness. For example, I had mice in America. Here, I have rats. I had ants in America, and I have ants here. I had flooding issues in America; I have flooding issues here. My American laundry room housed giant jumping crickets, while my Asian laundry room houses giant flying cockroaches. In America, our neighbor had crying goats and squawking chickens. Here, one neighbor paints our pots, and another has screaming chickens.)

Now, on to the more pleasant Exchanges and Equivalencies. In no particular order, some of ours are:

– For van maintenance, we go to a guy named Noel instead of a guy named Ari.

–  We can drive up Bokor Mountain on the coast of Kampot, instead of Cadillac Mountain on the coast of Maine.

–  For our yearly family retreat we head south from Phnom Penh to Kep, instead of heading south from KC to Arkansas’s Camp Takodah.

– While traveling, we listen to the BBC instead of NPR. (We’ve decided we prefer British-accented news.)

– Instead of picking up last-minute groceries at our neighborhood Sunfresh, we pick up extra food at 1&1 Market.

– Instead of playing in our yard, we play on our roof and on the street.

– When we get tired of playing at our own house, we go to the park at Northbridge International School instead of Red Bridge Elementary School.

– Instead of buying fast (fried) food at the drive-through, we use what I like to call the Cambodian Drive-Through. This just means we can stop on the side of the road and buy practically anything. Sometimes we don’t even have to get out. We buy fast fruit, fast fresh bread, and fast Cokes along the road. (Betcha thought we were real healthy till that last one, huh? By the way, Jonathan says the Cokes taste better here. Must have something to do with the lack of high fructose corn syrup and addition of real sugar.)

– We even avail ourselves of the drive-through shoe department from time to time. (No joke. It’s quite convenient.)

– And when we are feeling especially unhealthy, we get donuts from USA Donut instead of Lamar’s.

Bonuses:

– Gotta love those Cambodian skies. The clouds and sunsets here are the Best in the world, in my opinion.

– And also, Cambodian bathrooms. Love them.

These experiences do not in any way replace the people we have left behind. They simply make daily life easier and more comfortable. They are the myriad Exchanges and Equivalencies of our life. And in them, we find joy.

 

kepsunset

Kep at sunset

In Honor of Hot Season

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I’m reposting part of our March 2012 newsletter. It details my very first Khmer wedding experience, which happened in hot season. Hot season in Cambodia lasts from March to May, and it’s HOT. But it’s a prime time for weddings, due to the lack of rain. We melted at that first wedding. We’ve been to more Khmer weddings since then, but the following list accurately depicts my first impressions.

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 TOP 10 TIPS FOR ATTENDING YOUR 1ST KHMER WEDDING

10. If you live near the wedding, loud music will awaken you and your children at 6:30 am. The decibels will increase until 10:30 pm, when it should hopefully stop. You learn that “very loud” in Khmer is “loo clang.” You find this ironic.

9. If the wedding is right outside your front door, there will be no space for your vehicle to exit. You must take a tuk-tuk (moto drawn taxi) if you want to leave during that day(s).

8. Wear a sparkly dress. The more sparkles, the better.

7. Wear big, sparkly jewelry. The more sparkles, the better.

6. Apply heavy makeup. The heavier, the better.

5. Wear big hair. The bigger, the better

4. Bring a large monetary gift. The amount will be recorded for future reference.

3. Arrive an hour or more late. If you don’t, the bride might not even be dressed yet, and there might only be 3 other guests there. And they’ll be white. Like you.

2. Seat yourself so as to fill a table completely. Do not spread out, even if your inner American wants to. Guests are served only after a table is full. Eat lightly; there will be 6 courses.

1. Avoid the raw salads. Avoid the ice. Eat only cooked foods. Drink only bottled drinks. Pass on the half-cooked pig’s ears. Your stomach will thank you later.

wedding

Fusion

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I know this girl who blogs over at Wabota World. I used to teach her; now she teaches me. Her stories as an American living in India are insightful (see here and here and here), often humorous (see here, here, and here), and on occasion, tear-inducing. I bet you can’t tell I like her stuff, can you??

Cross-cultural life is a life of paradox. But isn’t all of life? She recently wrote about this concept in a new way, and I liked it so much I decided to share it (with her permission of course).

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fu·sion

/ˈfyo͞oZHən/

Noun The process or result of joining two or more things together to form a single entity.

In the past, I have been a person of extremes.  Everything was all or nothing.  I told myself that to be one thing was to refrain from being anything else.  I tied myself to definitions that I had superfluously created.

I have noticed that since I have been in India, my definitions have relaxed.  At times I went through miniature identity crises.  Things like “I have become boring,”  “This isn’t me,” and so on have run through my head.  But, I have realized something: I can be more than one thing at a time.  I don’t have to make myself into a certain character that I had always imagined I would be.  In fact by doing so, I stunt the growth that God can bring into my life.

I am slowly discovering the beauty of being in two places at once.

I can act like a teenager, giggle about boys, and jam to fun music.  But I can also run a household, lead a devotional, and travel the world by myself.

I can squeeze through alleyways between small houses filled with sari clad women, pants-less children, and paan chewing men all while listening to jazz or Weird Al on my i-pod.

I can order a coke and chicken sandwich at MacDonald’s while wearing a salwaar khameez.

I can speak in Hinglish.  “Aage se right.”  “Che eggs please.  Kitne hai?”

I can be fearless when it comes time to launch myself into a packed local train or cross a street with seemingly unending traffic.  But, I can also be nervous to go to the shop and ask where their mustard seeds are.

I can love India and miss home.

Fusion is right.

What My Neighbors Taught Me

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Note: This experience happened awhile back, before both the Night of the Epi-Pen and also the possible attempted break-in. But because what happened in this story is significant to my life and ministry in Cambodia, I’m still going to share it, even if it’s a little late.

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I love my neighbors. Yes, the ones that might move. (Insert frowny face here.) I cherish a special affection for two ladies in particular. They always welcome me to sit down and talk with them while they cook. My communication with them is rather stop-and-start, but they never seem impatient with me.

A couple weeks ago, as my kids were playing outside, I walked up to these two ladies and made small talk. Small talk about babies. My friend just had twins; I asked about the word for twin. Small talk about pregnancy. The neighbor is pregnant; I shared stories from my pregnancies. Small talk about cooking. They asked about mine; I told them it’s not great. Small talk about the weather, about wet season and dry season. About how different it is from America, that for six months, it almost never rains, and then during the next six months, barely a day goes by that it doesn’t rain.

I make small talk because studying 2 hours a day for 6 months just cannot produce a fluent speaker.  That amount of study enables me to navigate life in this city . . . and to make small talk.

They offered me vegetable soup; it smelled wonderful. I sat down to eat it with them; it tasted as good as it smelled. While we were eating together, one of the ladies asked me to tell her about myself. Jonathan had told her I was a scientist, and she wanted to know about my education. So I started to tell her.

I told her I liked studying math when I was younger. I liked studying science when I was younger. Then I decided to go to university to study more math and science.

I realized, though, as I was telling my education story, that it’s not just an education story. It’s a testimony. A testimony to the Creator’s work, and to my love for that Creator.

I still remember Mr. Fox’s 9th grade geometry class, where I first learned about right angle trigonometry and was struck with the realization that God invented those mesmerizing SOH CAH TOA relationships. I used to talk about how I really “found God” in Scientific American magazine. The universe God created, from the tiniest quark to the largest galactic supercluster, and every element of my beloved Periodic Table in between, amazes me. God amazes me.

I wanted to tell her that.

But I couldn’t.

The closest I could get was, “The God that is above everything, the God that created everything, I am amazed by the stuff He made. So I like to study it.”

I once heard another missionary mom say she was on the “20 year plan” to learning Khmer. I liked that phrase so much that I’ve incorporated in into my own personal vernacular. Being on the 20-year plan means I plan to study Khmer, summer after homeschool summer, until I’m no longer homeschooling my children. I thought I would just review my first 6 months of study and practice basic conversation this summer. I didn’t think I’d get to spiritual conversations until, oh, about year 8 or so. I certainly didn’t expect it to happen in year 2.

But my neighbors taught me something that night. Something important. They taught me that when people ask me, the foreigner, “What do you do? Why are you here?” I have this amazing opportunity to inject my testimony, my faith in God, into their lives.

Even if I am on the 20 year plan.

So I have a new goal for my summer study: I can learn how to say my testimony. I can memorize my story. And I can plant tiny seeds of faith while answering the most basic of questions: What on earth are you doing in Cambodia?

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The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands. Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they reveal knowledge. They have no speech, they use no words; no sound is heard from them. Yet their voice goes out into all the earth, their words to the ends of the world. Psalm 19:1-4

Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. 1 Peter 3:15