Ripples

What is culture shock?  To be honest, I have no idea.  I know I’m experiencing it, but I still can’t fully describe what those two words mean.  But I can tell you a lot about culture shock. Like it hits everyone differently, at different times, for different lengths, in different intensities, expressed in different ways and through different avenues... 

I was warned in the Student Missions class about this little beast. I was cautioned again and again by those who’ve gone before me, but even they could not fully explain what lay ahead.  This blog is something that has been set on replay in my head and is far past due that I post it. So I’ll try my best to be open and real without sounding pitiful. Please do not read this and feel the need jump on the next flight and come to my rescue. I simply write this for my own sanity.  I’m not a damsel in distress; I’m a damsel trying to survive a year constantly living out side of my comfort zone.

            The best way I can describe culture shock is a toy boat floating along in a calm pond. Peaceful right? No worries. Then imagine a child begins to throw rocks into the pond.  You see the ripples on the horizon but never know how they will hit you, a plastic vessel. When the waves do finally come it’s all you can do to stay afloat.   

            These past couple of weeks have been the hardest I’ve experienced here so far. There is never one massive tidal wave, but rather a constant ache. The waves of culture shock mixed with homesickness have hit my boat far more frequently than when I first arrived.  We are now settled into a routine and perhaps that the problem.  Before, I was so topsy-turvy I didn’t have time to think about home.  Everything was still so new; I was more excited about the adventure here than what was happening stateside.  Now the tides have turned. Ripples.

Life is growing more mundane and yet more stressful at the same time. All of us stress about the classes we’re teaching.  We stress about lesson planning.  I can’t help but think, “This was not part of my nursing curriculum. How do I survive this wave?!”. We stress about our students grades, and take it personally when they do not perform at the level we want.  Another ripple. We bend over backwards for some students whose apathy towards their grades is ready to break us. How do I motivate someone who has no desire for what I have to offer?  Another ripple.

Please don’t misunderstand me I do love teaching! I love my students and I thoroughly enjoy A&P.  Yet, I desperately miss nursing.  Nursing is my passion. It’s why I dedicated 3 years of my life to the insane pressure of nursing school.  It’s why I was ok with all the stress of getting those 2 little letters behind my name.  I worry that I may be losing the skills I worked so hard on. Yet, another ripple crashes.

I’m also torn.  I want to connect with the locals here, but when I do I feel another wave start to form.  Their worldview is so different from my own.  It’s hard to understand them when I know they don’t understand me. I want to connect with those I love back home, but when I do another wave crashes on my boat. I’m reminded that life continues to turn. The lack of my physical presence will not cause their lives to go on hold, and for that I’m genuinely happy! I want them to live to the fullest, go to weddings and dedications,  make new friends, and go on crazy fun adventures whether I’m involved or not.  Yet when the ripple hits, a part of me aches to be with them.  A long distance relationship with friends and family is harder than I imagined!

With all of that being said, just like a rock thrown into a pond there are times of great peace and happiness between the ripples. I do love Papua! I love the people I’ve met and the relationships I’m forming with both the locals and my fellow student missionaries. I love HIS, and the students here. I love the Boyd family beyond words, and I am SO grateful for their endless support.  I love the adventure of living in a different country and the uncertainty that surrounds our daily lives. And I love seeing God work on my heart! 

This weekend (Oct. 8-9) was a time between the waves. Erin invited us to her church in Abe just over an hours drive away. Her church is tucked between crowded apartments and dirty streets, which were just wide enough for 2 cars to pass. It is a fairly large building considering the location, with high white ceilings and bright purple drapes around the pulpit. After a very long service, we had Indonesian potluck! They had food like Nasi kuning (yellow rice), Nasi putih (white rice) Pisang goreng (fried bananas), boiled ubi leaves, other veggies, fried corn, ayam (chicken), tofu, and fresh fish.  So fresh in fact, they still had heads and eyes.  I was not brave enough try the fish, but everything else was amazing! 

Erin’s parents graciously drove us there and back.  Later that evening, we met up with the Boyd’s for a bon fire and snacks.  Ruth’s parents were in town and to welcome them Darron had arranged for a surprise visit from some seminary students. They welcomed them with a tribal dance!  It may not have been the most authentic native dance, instead of a drum the leader used on a 5-gallon water jug, and instead of wearing only gourds they remained in shorts or boxers, but nonetheless it was exciting.

On Sunday, we all went to church. Again. This time to Newman’s chapel where most of the expatriates attend.  It is hard to describe just how much of a blessing it was to be at a place of worship where I fully understand the songs and sermon! I enjoy worshiping on Sabbath in the Indonesian churches but there is just something about being able to worship in my own language that rejuvenates the soul.

We ended the day at the beach collecting coral, sea glass, and eating iced fruit salad. On our way home it began to sprinkle; the type of rain that needs to be danced in.  So we all climbed out of the car and in the headlights we awkwardly twirled and skipped barefoot across a long wooden bridge. After all the excitement of the day we were famished! Paige and I convinced Aubrey and Andrew to take us to get some authentic Indonesian cuisine (aka street food). We all ordered some kind of rice with meat or veggies. So good and spicy!  It was nice to just sit and share laughs with new friends.  Oh, how I love the calm between waves.

First Violin Lesson!

       Last week, Ruth came to us and brought up the subject of individuality. She encouraged each of us to think of a way we could do something without the others, to simply be independent individual SM's. Away from the PAK. It was a light bulb moment for me. It never crossed my mind to try to do something away from the other girls.  I had just come to terms with doing everything with this little family for the next 9 months. Cooking, cleaning, sharing 1 bathroom, school, pasar, Mister, language learning, nursing, sharing a bedroom… everything!  So each of us has been praying that God would open the doors to our individuality.  And He has in many ways.

One door opened yesterday. I was surprised with the opportunity to teach a spontaneous violin lesson! I had been asked if I would be willing to teach a guy who lives at Adventist Aviation. But yesterday he showed up (very Indonesian style) when I was at the Boyd’s house. Surprise!  But of course, I was happy to try and teach (more like tutor) him and walk through my individuality door. 

I knew language would be an issue but I was not prepared for how big that barrier would be.  For example, the names of the open strings on the violin are “G, D, A, and E”. Ok, makes since in English.  But in Indonesian they have slightly different sounds for their letters.  It goes G = Gay, and  D = Deh. No big deal so far, right? A = Aw, E = Eh (like hay without the “h”).  Basically, their “E” sounds like how we would say “A” in English. See the confusion?  I would say play on the A-string and he would start playing on the E-string (highest string), AND the very little Indonesian that I speak has nothing to do with music!     

Praise the Lord though, I had Ryan to help translate.  Ryan is a new friend we’ve met while being here.  He’s a high schooler at the local Adventist school in Sentani who’s family just moved here from the Philippines.  But he’s completely fluent in both English and Indonesian.  Plus, he plays clarinet and trumpet so he knows the musical terms. I was so grateful to have him there!

Jonathon (my student) doesn’t read music but plays by ear.  So any suggestions of a way to teach site reading with little talking (since I may not always have a translator) would be greatly appreciated! I have a feeling these lessons will be a lot of pointing and possibly a little charades.

Comic Relief

This pretty much sums up the past few weeks in one picture... Hope it makes you laugh as hard as I did when I made it