I've been praying that I'd meet more local people lately. As I may have mentioned, our new community is beautiful, but there are high walls around each yard that make it difficult to meet my neighbors -- and I thought it was hard in my old apartment building! Add to that, many women -- especially young mothers -- rarely leave the house. So, I've been wondering how to make friends. It's been easy enough to meet expats here. If you're a foreigner, you know where the other foreigners are. These friendships have been a huge blessing. But, if I'm going to be friends with foreigners, why not live in America? I'm here because I'm supposed to be a part of this community. And so, I've been praying that I'd meet some new people -- perhaps some future friends? It's amazing how quickly the answers come.
First off, we finally visited a woodworker we met the first time we visited last year. We met him and brought home some presents for our family from his shop. He wrote to Chris a few times and we were looking forward to reconnecting with him when we moved here. One thing led to another and it was 3 months before we stopped in. Shame on us! He was very happy to see us (though he chastised us for taking so long to come to him). He was so happy, he closed his shop and brought us to meet his whole family! He and his brothers and parents live together in a big house on the other side of town. We met 3 brothers, a few wives, a few kids, and his parents. Our kids played in his yard with the cousins while we had chai with the family. I got to meet some nieces and we got to see some more of the workspace his family uses for the business. One of the brothers, an English teacher by trade, quizzed me on my grammar -- I wasn't sure how to answer some of the questions since American usage is a bit different than British or Indian English usage -- I hope I didn't screw him up too bad! I tried to chat with the ladies, though most of them spoke a different language than the one I'm learning. We stuck to things like kids and the weather. Still, they seemed genuinely happy we were there and told us to please come back and to not forget them. Perhaps it has something to do with Chris wanting to buy a carved desk from them in the future. Time will tell if we're only a business opportunity or real friends. I'm choosing to hope for the latter.
The very next day we got a call from a man Chris knows from work. His family, who lives in the village, was in town for the evening and he wanted the kids and I to come meet his wife and kids. I went to the house they were staying in and sat down to chat. There were two ladies, the man's wife and her friend. We chatted about what we could (since we were both speaking in our second language). Mostly about kids and food and that sort of thing. After a bit, they asked if I was having more children. What? Well, I'm getting used to being asked these sorts of personal questions by complete strangers. Whether this is common for all people here or it's a result of me being different and curiosity winning over conventionality, I'm not sure. Still, I have to field a lot of questions about things I'd consider personal. I told them I was happy with my three and would only have more if God wanted. "So, have you been cut?" What? That was really more than what I wanted to discuss, so I played off their questions with a vague answer. "I've been cut and she's pregnant with her fourth. After that, she'll be cut. Four is a good number. Small families are better. Big families can be difficult." I had to stifle a laugh. Imagine anyone in my hometown considering a 4-child family as 'small'. Even having three seems a bit extreme to some Americans I run into. Well, I got an invitation to visit them in the village -- which I'm very much hoping to accept sooner than later. We said our goodbyes. Two more potential friends.
The very next day, I was playing outside with the kids when the nomadic ladies whose tent is currently set up behind our house invited us to come around and visit. Their tent is probably about 10 yards from our garden. Still, it wasn't as easy as it seemed. Our landlord is in a different socioeconomic and ethnic class than these ladies. Hence, the gate which separates my yard from their home has only one lock and one key -- which our landlord holds. Because of separation of the classes here, he doesn't want them coming on his property. One time, one of these women came to my gate asking to come through and throw branches she'd gathered in to her goats so she wouldn't have to walk the long way around. This lady -- who was probably 50 at least -- was carrying about 80 lbs of branches on her head. Of course, I hurried to open the gate and then helped her throw the branches over the back wall. After we had finished, however, the lady who lives on our property came out sheepishly and started a conversation with the woman. Later I asked what was going on. "I'm not allowed by the landlord to open the gate for her. He's afraid the branches will damage the wall." . . . the BRICK wall . . . But, I digress . . .
So, in order to visit these nice ladies, I had to get the kids ready and walk about 3 blocks around to the bottom of the open lot where the tents are set up. We arrived and the kids started throwing around a frizbee we brought while I was ushered into the tent and they made us some chai and flatbread. Again, we were all operating in our second language. Again, we talked of what we could: kids, weather, food. They asked me if I had practiced the recent month of fasting and the celebration afterwards and if I performed the daily prayers. I explained that my method of fasting and praying and celebrating was a bit different, but I prayed for my neighbors and they invited me to their celebrations and I invited them to mine. I was compared several times to another foreign lady they met who did the prayers and fasting. Her language was better -- I was reminded of this at least 5 times during the hour or so I spent there. Well, I should hope so, that lady had lived there for 20 years! I have found that comparison is very common in this culture. Everyone tells Chris how much better my language is than his . . . or they tell us what a nicer car someone else has than we do . . . or they tell us how we act better in a situation than others they saw. Well, again, I reach for grace and remember that my identity and self-worth comes from God and not from public opinion. Again, I hope for friends who will accept my flaws, so I will accept theirs.
One more observation from these 3 visits. They represent the 3 major separate classes of this area: the educated and wealthy, the villagers, and the shepherds. This, of course, simplifies it, but it is a reminder of how segregated my new home is. If I became friends with all of these families, I could never invite them all to dinner at my house at the same time. Some would be uncomfortable. Some would be offended. They would stay in different rooms, expect different treatment. I'm still new to this. My nature would want to say, "So what? Suck it up and come and eat together!" But would that really bless my new friends? I'd say I need to love and learn quite a bit more before challenging someone else's worldview in such an in-your-face kind of way.
Not sure what will come of all these visits, but I was reminded today as I worked beside my friend who comes and helps me with housework. God has already given me one great friend in her. I'm sure it's only a matter of time before others will follow. I'm feeling hopeful today.
First off, we finally visited a woodworker we met the first time we visited last year. We met him and brought home some presents for our family from his shop. He wrote to Chris a few times and we were looking forward to reconnecting with him when we moved here. One thing led to another and it was 3 months before we stopped in. Shame on us! He was very happy to see us (though he chastised us for taking so long to come to him). He was so happy, he closed his shop and brought us to meet his whole family! He and his brothers and parents live together in a big house on the other side of town. We met 3 brothers, a few wives, a few kids, and his parents. Our kids played in his yard with the cousins while we had chai with the family. I got to meet some nieces and we got to see some more of the workspace his family uses for the business. One of the brothers, an English teacher by trade, quizzed me on my grammar -- I wasn't sure how to answer some of the questions since American usage is a bit different than British or Indian English usage -- I hope I didn't screw him up too bad! I tried to chat with the ladies, though most of them spoke a different language than the one I'm learning. We stuck to things like kids and the weather. Still, they seemed genuinely happy we were there and told us to please come back and to not forget them. Perhaps it has something to do with Chris wanting to buy a carved desk from them in the future. Time will tell if we're only a business opportunity or real friends. I'm choosing to hope for the latter.
The very next day we got a call from a man Chris knows from work. His family, who lives in the village, was in town for the evening and he wanted the kids and I to come meet his wife and kids. I went to the house they were staying in and sat down to chat. There were two ladies, the man's wife and her friend. We chatted about what we could (since we were both speaking in our second language). Mostly about kids and food and that sort of thing. After a bit, they asked if I was having more children. What? Well, I'm getting used to being asked these sorts of personal questions by complete strangers. Whether this is common for all people here or it's a result of me being different and curiosity winning over conventionality, I'm not sure. Still, I have to field a lot of questions about things I'd consider personal. I told them I was happy with my three and would only have more if God wanted. "So, have you been cut?" What? That was really more than what I wanted to discuss, so I played off their questions with a vague answer. "I've been cut and she's pregnant with her fourth. After that, she'll be cut. Four is a good number. Small families are better. Big families can be difficult." I had to stifle a laugh. Imagine anyone in my hometown considering a 4-child family as 'small'. Even having three seems a bit extreme to some Americans I run into. Well, I got an invitation to visit them in the village -- which I'm very much hoping to accept sooner than later. We said our goodbyes. Two more potential friends.
The very next day, I was playing outside with the kids when the nomadic ladies whose tent is currently set up behind our house invited us to come around and visit. Their tent is probably about 10 yards from our garden. Still, it wasn't as easy as it seemed. Our landlord is in a different socioeconomic and ethnic class than these ladies. Hence, the gate which separates my yard from their home has only one lock and one key -- which our landlord holds. Because of separation of the classes here, he doesn't want them coming on his property. One time, one of these women came to my gate asking to come through and throw branches she'd gathered in to her goats so she wouldn't have to walk the long way around. This lady -- who was probably 50 at least -- was carrying about 80 lbs of branches on her head. Of course, I hurried to open the gate and then helped her throw the branches over the back wall. After we had finished, however, the lady who lives on our property came out sheepishly and started a conversation with the woman. Later I asked what was going on. "I'm not allowed by the landlord to open the gate for her. He's afraid the branches will damage the wall." . . . the BRICK wall . . . But, I digress . . .
So, in order to visit these nice ladies, I had to get the kids ready and walk about 3 blocks around to the bottom of the open lot where the tents are set up. We arrived and the kids started throwing around a frizbee we brought while I was ushered into the tent and they made us some chai and flatbread. Again, we were all operating in our second language. Again, we talked of what we could: kids, weather, food. They asked me if I had practiced the recent month of fasting and the celebration afterwards and if I performed the daily prayers. I explained that my method of fasting and praying and celebrating was a bit different, but I prayed for my neighbors and they invited me to their celebrations and I invited them to mine. I was compared several times to another foreign lady they met who did the prayers and fasting. Her language was better -- I was reminded of this at least 5 times during the hour or so I spent there. Well, I should hope so, that lady had lived there for 20 years! I have found that comparison is very common in this culture. Everyone tells Chris how much better my language is than his . . . or they tell us what a nicer car someone else has than we do . . . or they tell us how we act better in a situation than others they saw. Well, again, I reach for grace and remember that my identity and self-worth comes from God and not from public opinion. Again, I hope for friends who will accept my flaws, so I will accept theirs.
One more observation from these 3 visits. They represent the 3 major separate classes of this area: the educated and wealthy, the villagers, and the shepherds. This, of course, simplifies it, but it is a reminder of how segregated my new home is. If I became friends with all of these families, I could never invite them all to dinner at my house at the same time. Some would be uncomfortable. Some would be offended. They would stay in different rooms, expect different treatment. I'm still new to this. My nature would want to say, "So what? Suck it up and come and eat together!" But would that really bless my new friends? I'd say I need to love and learn quite a bit more before challenging someone else's worldview in such an in-your-face kind of way.
Not sure what will come of all these visits, but I was reminded today as I worked beside my friend who comes and helps me with housework. God has already given me one great friend in her. I'm sure it's only a matter of time before others will follow. I'm feeling hopeful today.
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