This world is a strange place sometimes, especially with the ease of travel these days. You get in a car in Lancaster County, drive half an hour and go from downtown, multicultural Lancaster city to dodging horse deposits on the roads of Amish country. You go 6 hours from mid-PA and end up on the beach, in a different climate and a culture built around the ocean. You fly to Orlando and suddenly you're surrounded by 6-foot-high talking mice and ducks. Oh, and princesses who live in castles on clouds and break into random songs about birds, brooms and beaus. Or you drive to the mid-west and suddenly find yourself the only one in a large crowd of people not wearing a cowboy hat and boots. It's just the way our world works.
If it's true in our country, it's doubly true coming from (or going to) another country. It's even true if you've been in another country for a while and then come back to the country of your birth, believe it or not. So just for fun, here are some stories of reverse culture shock and cultural discoveries, as experienced over the last few weeks.
Orlando airport, 2 AM, May 27
I am dying of thirst. I never drink much when I travel and I've been out of my house now for about 16 hours. I have two big, heavy suitcases, plus my backpack and my purse, and I can't leave them unattended. But I am so thirsty. And there's another problem. It's 2 AM and there is nothing open, as far as I can see. I go to look, sweating in the Orlando heat, wheeling my suitcases with me. I'm getting desperate, looking around for one place that's open, where I can buy one measly little bottle of water. Is that too much to ask? If I don't find water soon, they are going to find a dead body when the airport wakes up in the morning. And then I spy it. Hanging on the wall, refreshment, free for the taking, a small silver bowl with a button that says PUSH. In my head, I see the light shining on it, as though from a spotlight above it. I hear the music, the long "voila" sound that comes with some great discovery. I rush over to it like a dehydrated desert tourist would rush to a tiny oasis. I push the button and, like magic, water gushes out the top. I stand there and drink for what feels like forever, trying desperately to satiate the deep thirst inside. Finally, unable to intake any more water, I breathe a deep sigh of relief and marvel at the beauty of the simple water fountain.
Lancaster, PA, 9 AM, May 30
Pancakes are a pretty good option for a breakfast food, I thought. My roommate CJ was outside painting and I was determined to make a good breakfast for us both. I know how to make pancakes. So I measured and mixed and found everything I needed. 1 egg, it said. Open up the refrigerator. That's normal. Grab the egg carton (eggs don't come the same way in Peru, but that wasn't too bad.) Then I opened up the egg carton and started laughing hysterically as I saw, marching across each little white egg in pink ink "Use by...." and a date. I suppose US chickens must be smarter than Peruvian chickens, knowing how to eat all those letters in order so they'll come out in order on the egg. I've decided part of my ministry for my second term in Peru will be teaching chickens how to write the expiration date on their eggs, just to prove to myself forever that I am a good teacher! :)
Lancaster, PA, 3 PM, May 30
Apparently, the days of struggling to carry 4 big bags of groceries in from the car are a thing of the not-so-distant past. The modern American woman can carry 8 or even 10 bags of groceries in from the car without breaking a sweat or throwing her back out. Why? Because they only bag 1 TYPE of food in a bag! Why? Who knows! Maybe they need more bags to recycle to make that plastic wood they use for playgrounds nowadays. Maybe one type of food can infest another. Or maybe they are only making water-bottle caps half as big so that they can use all the extra plastic to make plastic bags. I've decided that as often as I can remember, I'm taking a Peruvian market bag to the grocery store from now on.
Lancaster, PA, 5 PM, May 30
It's been a day for culture shock. Might as well make it a full day and head to the grocery store with CJ and Liz to pick up some extras we forgot earlier. And so my brain is overloaded with 50 choices of everything from cookies (how many kinds of Oreos can people come up with?) to yogurt (organic, plain, whipped, natural, light, fruit-flavored, Greek style...). I have yet to venture into the cereal aisle. I realized why the American society has such a problem with eating too much junk food. We have too many options and can never get bored with them. And the advertising industry is built around one thing: make one good thing, get people hooked on it; improve it and get people to buy more. Unfortunately, as I've also realized in the grocery store over the past few weeks, the good-for-you food is the stuff you can get anywhere in the world. The stuff that I look at and go "Well, I haven't had that for a while!" is the junk food. Not a good thing. I think I'll take minimal trips to the grocery store this summer. It's okay...I can't find anything when I'm there anyway! Guess that's why they make those "Where to find it in the grocery store" signs that hang from the ceiling, for people like me.
Lancaster PA, 11:30 AM, mid-June
Liz and I left home an hour ago to run errands and we're coming back already! I laugh, making a comparison to doing errands in Peru, where getting downtown alone takes me 45 minutes on public transportation. And then I realize something. If I can pack 5 things in a day in Peru, I can pack about 10 in the same day in the US. Things move faster and take less time. And then I got to thinking about cooking. Cooking in Peru is easily a 1-2 hour process (longer, if you take forever to cook, like I do) till you get everything together, cut it all up and cook it. There are virtually no pre-cooked meals that you pop in the oven for 20 minutes and serve, no pre-chopped vegetables or ones that come from a can. Therefore, it would seem that if the American lifestyle moves so much faster than the Peruvian one, there would be more time to cook from scratch like they do in Peru, right? Wrong! And as we drive through the streets of Lancaster, heading home, I realize again "This is definitely not Peru!"
Things are different here in the United States. But different isn't always bad. I enjoy sleeping in air-conditioning when it's 95 degrees outside. I also enjoy the remote control that came with the air conditioner I'm using when I get awake in the middle of the night a bit chilly and want to turn it off without fully waking up. And, as much as I believe there are way too many junk food options in the grocery store (way too many options, period), they do look awfully good!
There is, however, one thing that does not change: God. God is the same whether I'm looking up at a star-studded sky in Peru or eating cherries in Lancaster. I'm so thankful for the assurance that God is always the same and will never change.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Living between Two Worlds
For those of you who are not aware of this, I am in the States!
I arrived back on May 27 and am living in Lancaster city for the summer with some friends, reconnecting, recharging and getting ready to go back for another three years in Peru. I'd really like to get together with as many people as possible during this time, so hopefully I'll be able to see all of you this summer.
Being a missionary is a unique position to be in. There is a part of me that is in two worlds and I'm trying to learn how to live between the two of them. There is a part of me that is American. I look it, I speak it, and I think it and I love my people here. There is also a part of me that is Peruvian. I speak it, I think it and I love my people there also. (I don't look it yet. They tell me I should dye my hair. I'm not convinced yet.)
So, for those of you who wonder "What does it look like or feel like to live between two worlds?", let me give you a glimpse.
It means....
... people threatening to tie you up and keep you in one place while people in the other place threaten punishment if you don't visit. And you want both.
... leaving home to go home and missing home while you're home.
... leaving family to go see family and missing family while you're with family.
... being surrounded by open arms. One set is open, releasing you while the other set is open, receiving you. And then they turn around and release you again to the other set of arms, which is open to receive you back.
... always wondering, no matter which world you are in, what is happening in the other world.
... two sets of favorite foods that you crave while you're away.
... doing things that seem a little off-kilter because "that's how you do it in the other world".
... constantly comparing things in your mind between the two worlds, no matter where you are.
In another vein, I feel a little bit like I am living Acts 2 right now, where everyone shared everything in common. I feel so blessed being back in Lancaster, among my family here again, enjoying seeing everyone after so long. Thank you all for the warm welcome back, for listening and loving, for understanding, for spending time, for doing and for just being. You are a blessing.
I arrived back on May 27 and am living in Lancaster city for the summer with some friends, reconnecting, recharging and getting ready to go back for another three years in Peru. I'd really like to get together with as many people as possible during this time, so hopefully I'll be able to see all of you this summer.
Being a missionary is a unique position to be in. There is a part of me that is in two worlds and I'm trying to learn how to live between the two of them. There is a part of me that is American. I look it, I speak it, and I think it and I love my people here. There is also a part of me that is Peruvian. I speak it, I think it and I love my people there also. (I don't look it yet. They tell me I should dye my hair. I'm not convinced yet.)
So, for those of you who wonder "What does it look like or feel like to live between two worlds?", let me give you a glimpse.
It means....
... people threatening to tie you up and keep you in one place while people in the other place threaten punishment if you don't visit. And you want both.
... leaving home to go home and missing home while you're home.
... leaving family to go see family and missing family while you're with family.
... being surrounded by open arms. One set is open, releasing you while the other set is open, receiving you. And then they turn around and release you again to the other set of arms, which is open to receive you back.
... always wondering, no matter which world you are in, what is happening in the other world.
... two sets of favorite foods that you crave while you're away.
... doing things that seem a little off-kilter because "that's how you do it in the other world".
... constantly comparing things in your mind between the two worlds, no matter where you are.
In another vein, I feel a little bit like I am living Acts 2 right now, where everyone shared everything in common. I feel so blessed being back in Lancaster, among my family here again, enjoying seeing everyone after so long. Thank you all for the warm welcome back, for listening and loving, for understanding, for spending time, for doing and for just being. You are a blessing.
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