I feel as if I’ve failed at keeping this blog updated. Turns out that living life takes up a lot of time… Well, to catch you up on some fun times, here are some stories from my time being here so far:
--Dancing for a Crowd of People--
One day in February an American friend of mine and I went to a nearby department store. She needed some luggage for her upcoming trip and I needed to get out of the apartment. So we grabbed an auto and off we went to this particular store for my very first time. Once inside it was pretty uneventful, she picked out her luggage while I grabbed some groceries. In this particular store you have to pay for things on certain levels. For example, I couldn’t pay for my groceries on any other level than the one that had groceries. Makes sense, right? But my friend could not pay for her luggage on the level that had luggage; no she had to go to the one below her. Not sure, why, but a lot of things don’t always make sense to me here. It takes forever to pay for the groceries, but once we did, we headed downstairs to wait in another line where we had to fight off line jumpers so I could pay for my coffee mug and she could pay for her shirt and the luggage. I learned I can passive-aggressively stand my ground against and impatient South Asian pretty well and successfully keep them from breaking in front of me, lol. You may be thinking, “oh, it’s no big deal you should serve them and let them get in front of you.” But if I did that, I would still be in that line, just sayin.
Some of you may know that earlier this month India one the Cricket World Cup. At this particular time in Feb, the games were about to begin and one of the first games was going to be in a city in the country I’m in. As we walked out of the store, two girls approached us to enter this contest to win a chance to go to one of the opening games. Apparently I didn’t think enough people were staring at me that day and I entered the contest. Oh, did I mention it was a dance contest? Yeah, you had to get up on stage and do a dance involving only cricket moves. I was awful and there were a lot of people around, but it was kind of fun and I got a hat out of the deal. Just imagine me up in front of a crowd of people making a fool out of myself. Got the mental image? Sadly, I did not win the trip to the cricket game. Darn.
Off we went for the always fun task of finding an auto (taxi thing for those of you who don’t know). The first guy asked double what the price should have been. The second guy finally agreed to pay the price we knew was fair so off we went in his auto as another man tried to take our picture with his cell phone. That’s right he stuck his phone in the auto as we were getting in and driving off. The driver thought it was funny. We did not. We get down the road when my friend realizes that after all of that, she did not buy her suitcase. We tell our driver to stop and go back. Confused, he does so. I looked in my language notebook to see how to tell him we forgot something- this is always embarrassing to have to look up how to communicate something, but you gotta do what you gotta do sometimes, right? Again, he thought it was funny and we did not.
Once we made it back to the store, she asks him to wait for a few minutes to which he replies “I will wait 5 minutes” in English. “You know English?” “A little” Huh, that would have been good to know… So, she ran inside to get her suitcase while I sat in the auto with the driver and all of our other stuff. Awkward. So, I made a language lesson out of it. Next thing I know there is another man at the window trying to help teach me as well. He was nice, but it was weird. It’s like they have “foreigner radar” The way the auto was set up he should not have been able to see me, but somehow he just knew I was there. Before he came though, I had and interesting conversation with the driver. This is how it went:
He asked the normal questions of where are you from, where are you staying, why are you here, etc. He asked me when I came and how long I will be staying here. Then he asks me, “Will you take an (insert his ethnicity here) boy?” me: “Ah, what?” He repeats himself. Me: “uh, no.” He says “Do you not understand?” me: “What? I understand but I will not take a boy from here.” “Why?” “Uh, hey, can you teach me some (insert local language here)?” Like how I transitioned that one? Haha. As if it wasn’t awkward enough… Finally my friend made it back and we headed home with her suitcase, our food, some language learned and memories of me making a fool of myself.
--A Second Try and A Smack in the Face--
So I’ll admit that the last story may or may not have been entertaining to you, but maybe this one will be. This is the story of how I got hit in the face by an old lady. Yes, it’s true. It really happened and this is how it went down:
One day when my teammate was still here, she and I headed to the little part of town where we teach at a school once a week. It’s a part of town that, like many others, is full of its share of slums with nicer housing basically a stone’s throw away. The difference between this side of town and others is that the faces that belong here will be forever etched in my mind. The faces of my kids at the school- their eagerness to listen and learn stories from the word, their clothes with missing buttons and zippers, their feet without shoes, their voices as they joyfully sing “Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes” to work on pronunciation; the faces of those I walk by weekly on my way to the school: the lady selling fish who refused to let me take her picture, the veggie guys selling their produce to provide for their families, and the lady at the shop we say hello to every time we pass.
This is the little world I enter into every week. As I cross over the railroad tracks, slums come in to view no matter which direction I look down the tracks. Colorful clothes covered with dust are hanging out to dry, children dig in the dirt with no clothes on, play on the tracks or bathe in the muddy water they have. It is here my heart cries out though I have no words. I don’t know what to say to the Father, but I lift them up to Him trusting that His spirit knows the depths of all mine longs to say to Him.
When I first arrived our goal was to set up English classes for women on this part of town. Most of you know that the door for those classes was closed but on this particular day we were hosting our second attempt at an informational meeting. It’s customary to have snacks when you meet with someone- whether in your or their home or in general. So, my teammate and I stopped at the shop near the school that has the women we always say hello to. As we picked out which cookies we should buy I felt a strong grip on my shoulder. I turned around to see an older lady staring up at me. Staring up at me? Yes, I was on a step, but believe it or not I am taller than a lot of people here. I remember seeing her before and smiling at her. She began trying to speak to me. Keep in mind that this was in February. It is April and my language is a little better, but then I hardly knew anything except to tell her “I don’t understand.” Isn’t it funny that no matter where you are in the world when you are talking to someone and they know you can’t understand them, they talk louder? You know you’ve done it before. It didn’t matter how loud she spoke or how many times she repeated herself using the same words, I couldn’t understand her. The shop lady tried to tell me in other words what this lady was trying to say to me, but still I couldn’t understand. She asked if I knew another language that most foreigners learn here and I said “no” So, the lady hit me across the face. Yup, across the face. Now, it wasn’t an epic slap me so hard my whole head spins, but it wasn’t exactly what I would call “loving” either. She was probably thinking “oh, you sad, stupid American.” Turns out apparently that is a sign of affection. Could have fooled me. “Did you just see that,” I asked M, “she just hit me.” Stunned, I actually was laughing about it because well, what else can you do? M spoke up at this point and said “I think she wants to know why we’re here.” So, I told her and my answer seemed to satisfy and she left us. I haven’t seen her since. I was hurt at first because it’s not like I didn’t want to talk to her, I just couldn’t. In fact, I have something very important to tell her, I just can’t. Not yet anyway. I’m learning slowly and may never even be able to tell her all I want to, but I trust His sovereignty to use me in ways I’m unsure of how and I will choose to laugh at interesting experiences language barriers bring.
