The Natives Are Restless - Part Two

For part one of this post click here: The Natives Are Restless - Part One

You know how it is.  A few weeks into school break and the fun has worn off for everyone.  You have gone to the pool a dozen times, the mall 6 days and the park is just boring by now.  Your mom is going crazy having you underfoot by now and you are about to go crazy from the amount she wants you to help out around the house.  There are months of this left and only a week at Grandmas and a week at camp to break up the monotony.

Now imagine yourself here…there are no malls, you have to pump each drop of water your family consumes from a well down the street and then haul it home, so swimming is definitely out of the picture. The park is filled with men from the villages taking naps on the benches.  They yell if you make too much noise going down the slide. Endless games of soccer are played in the streets when the weather allows, but dirt streets mixed with days of mud and snow make that seem like a rarity more than a habit.  You can only fight with the same boys so many times each day before it gets boring. The t.v (if you have one and if there is electricity) only gets four channels; a religious channel (that Granny loves to watch and nod her toothless head at), a cooking channel from Uzbekistan, a Bollywood soap opera channel, and a music channel that makes your mother click her tongue in disapproval (they don’t blur anything out on that channel). Your mother still tries to give you work to do when you are home, but you already work a part-time job anyway so that gets old real quick.   You are a native and you are quickly getting restless.

One day, on your way home from work, you stumble across a beginner English book and have a brilliant revelation.  You will learn English.  Everything you hear and see tells you that it is the way forward, the way to get out of the rut of this life. With English, you will go far; makes lots of money, get out of this country, wear fancy clothes and be able to eat meat every day, twice a day!

Your family is really poor, so you aren’t even able to consider going to an English course in town. You immediately think about the nice British lady who lived next door to your family a few years ago and taught you some English.  She is gone, but the new Lady that is there doesn’t work in an office, so she might give you lessons. You will go ask her right when you get home.

As you arrive on your street, you wave and greet your friends who are in the midst of an intense soccer game.  They ask about your book and you excitedly share your plan with them.  They too are bored by this time in the break and decide that they should learn English as well. Thinking that there is power in numbers, your group of 10 bangs excitedly on her gate.  You chatter to each other about what you are going to do when you get older and can speak English so easily. 

The gate is quiet for a minute…that must mean that the guard is doing shopping in the bazaar.  You figure this is good news because he is pretty protective of the Lady and might not let you talk to her.  You know that the Lady will have to come to the gate, so you have a straight shot.  She comes out and after standard greetings, you launch into your proposal, holding your prize book out for her to see. Your friends crowd around and press into the gate with expectation.  At first she doesn’t understand you (her language isn’t always so great…especially when you talk fast because you are excited) and replies that she doesn’t have any books like that to give you.  You take a deep, patient breath and explain again that you have come for an English lesson. You state that the lady before her gave them all the time, that you need to learn, that she doesn’t have anything better to do because she just sits at home all day, so she should teach you…etc.

You are surprised and disappointed when the Lady doesn’t automatically throw open the door and usher you into her classroom/house so you can begin your magical journey to a better life. She explains that she has already had other kids there earlier asking to play and learn, that her son is sleeping, that she is currently in the middle of cooking supper for 8 people that night, and that she has to exercise or she will be a crippled pregnant woman in about 10 seconds flat. Not one to give up so easily, you agree that today won’t work, but you will be there at 8 am tomorrow morning.  The Lady reminds you that tomorrow is Thursday and is her Family Day and says she won’t be able to do it then.  You push again saying she can talk to her husband and tell him the plan and you will be there at 8 am.  All of your friends nod in agreement behind you.  Again, in a little sterner voice, she tells you that she really won’t give you English lessons tomorrow, so you might as well not even come.  You encourage her to figure out a time with her husband and let you know…that most any time will work for you.  She gives an elusive answer as she closes the gate and rushes back to her house and her recipes.

Bright and early at 8 am the next morning you and your friends knock on the gate. Book in hand, you are ready to begin.  The unlucky happens when the guard answers the door.  He eyes your group suspiciously and asks what you want.  You give a very convincing statement about the Lady promising to give you an English lesson at 8 am this morning and ask him to let you in. The suspicion doesn’t leave his face. He knows you well enough to know that you and your group of friends are usually up to no good. He also knows the Lady well enough by now to know that it is not in her nature (no matter how kind she is) to offer English lessons at 8 am…especially on a Thursday. Some days he even doubts whether she is alive by 8 am! He says he will go ask. He closes (and locks) the gate behind him.

He comes back a few minutes later with an “told you so” look on his face. He replies that the Lady did not promise to give you an English lesson today because today is the weekend and her Family Day.  You try to interject an argument, but he doesn’t give you the chance before closing the gate again.

You spend a few minutes pounding on the gate and yelling. It isn’t the most glamorous tactic, but sometimes if well timed if drives the Lady or her husband crazy enough that they come to the gate to yell at you to stop. If they come to tell you to go away themselves…it would be another prime opportunity to plead your case.

 

You are disappointed when no one comes to the gate…even at your insistent knocking and yelling. The same happened when you banged on the gate and yelled Little t’s name for 30 minutes earlier in the week. The gate remains firmly closed. Maybe they are getting tired of your little game. Maybe you are just losing your touch.

The boys urge you to join the soccer game and you are quickly distracted by chasing the ball down the semi-muddy street.

 

________________________

This was the story of my week last week. 


My mind has been firmly focused on packing and in preparation mode for the huge transition that my little family will go through in the next two months. So, I had a hard time with the significant amount of people who made their way to my gate. Okay, okay – it was only 4 or 5 groups of people…but compared to the usual (none) it was a lot!

I find myself stuck in this hard place.  Do I want to open my home up to a group of 10 year old boys to teach them basic English…during “my” time (naptime)? I might consider it, but find it hard to jump into something like that a few weeks before I leave, or when I have guests to cook for that night, or in these days when I must exercise, or (insert a thousand other excuses here). I am just not sure how to handle this.

 

In theory, I would love to be the woman who is known as the cool foreigner who gives English lessons and opens her home to all of the kids in the neighborhood.  In reality, I am scared out of my mind as to what that would look like. It would be like opening Pandora’s box. Especially during this break from school, there is potential for me to have kids in our house all the time. Like, all.the.time. And I don’t know how I feel about that to be honest...or maybe I do know how I feel with that, but it isn't so nice, so I don't want to fess up to it...

I also struggle with where the boundaries are.  Where do you draw the line? These kids can come, but these kids can’t? These kids are poor enough to warrant taking free English lessons from you while these kids may have a little money and be able to afford a course.  These kids are bored (there are no outlets for them) and just looking for something to do vs. they are really motivated and want to learn English. These kids are driving their parents crazy at home, so they are told to go get lessons from the foreigner vs. they themselves really want to do this.  These kids will learn enough from me in this short amount of time for it to benefit them in the long run vs. it is a stretch for me and I would like to keep my sanity.  I just don’t know how to navigate these waters!

I might not be quite as torn if the educational system here was not so poor. If they were getting decent educations, I might not fret as much about not investing in this way.

 

I also might not worry as much if I was working a lot in an office and had a ton of interaction with local people. I could justify that my time and energy and effort put into relationships is focused elsewhere and I need to keep boundaries around personal space and time.  Being home all of the time and not having a massive amount of interaction doesn’t afford me that same excuse.  Don’t get me wrong, I love being home and totally embrace it. In fact, the more I realize that my primary outlet for ministry right now is my home and my kids, the more I love it.

But there is a small niggle that is hard to shake.


That Niggle says that if I was a better person, a better woman, a Godlier woman, a better Worker...I would be more diligent and interactive with my neighborhood and community…on top of serving my family well.  If I was just Super Woman, dangit!

So I find myself in this juxtaposition these days…I don’t really want to spend the precious time while my son sleeps teaching 10 year old boys English. That is the plain and simple selfish truth.  I am learning to accept the reality that I still find it challenging to invite people into my home and have my life exposed for what it is; blocks on the floor, crayons and jelly on the table, a kid who never wears clothes, and a me that is not quite all put-together. I am fine with this reality…I just struggle with the very vocal disapproval that others are so quick to slap on it.

If I am honest, I really struggle with kids coming over and being in my house. Nothing is off limits. They will go through anything and everything and take whatever suits their fancy. The pantry is full of fun food for them to try, the cupboards hold all kinds of special things for them to mess with, my clothes may not even be safe.   I struggle with that. Maybe this is a sign I have too much stuff? Maybe it is an indication of growth that needs to happen in me?  Maybe it is normal? (Someone please reassure me that it is normal!)

I know this sounds horribly negative towards these kids, but it is just the way life is here.  There is no privacy. There are no personal possessions. There really is no such thing as asking permission…you take it and hope you can get away with it. Our office manager stared at our friend Emily blankly when she asked him what he did with his free time….the time he had to himself when he was alone.  He honestly replied that he had never been alone.  He is in his late 30’s and admitted that he had never been alone. He went on to confess that the thought of being terrified him.  This is a culture of community to the deepest depths and the invasiveness of that is not always an easy pill for my introverted self to swallow.

I don’t really know why I am telling you all of this…except for the fact that it is my life these days.  I find I am caught between the self-perceived pressure of wanting to finish well and not be completely harried in the last minutes of being here, and feeling the need to dig deeper and give a little more.

 

How does that look?

I have a friend who lives down the street who is lonely and really needs a friend.  She came the day after the droves of kids last week. I was frazzled and didn’t really want to see her to be honest (it was the weekend, during naptime). But she needed a friend.  It was SO evident that that I needed to make a very intentional effort to love on her.  I quickly found myself forming excuses for why I couldn’t, but God wouldn’t let it go.  She came in and we had a good time.

 

I would like to think that being focused and intentional in this period of life means I am open and available and desperately eager to interact with people like her.   I really think that it comes down to priorities at this stage in the journey.

The amount of need in this place is staggering. 


I could quickly exhaust/discourage/burn myself out by trying to meet everyone’s needs.  But there has to be some boundaries for my family and my personal life. And there has to be some focus or it all becomes too much and I will find myself curled up in the fetal position on my kitchen floor bawling my eyes out.  With the focus comes the ability to turn things away that 1. Aren’t as serious or as desperate, 2. I am not super passionate about and 3. Leave room and healthy balance for things that I do want to do and am passionate about…and be able to do them well and with a heart that longs to serve.

So, the boys will have to wait…I am not Super Woman. 


If I was Super Woman, my first order of business would be using my cape to fly to Said Country and slap some sense into whoever decided to use millions (billions?) of dollars to plop freezers/schools down in the middle of nowhere.  There is a reason I haven’t been given a cape yet…