I had a choice to make. There was a 50/50 chance of mortally offending an Indian family I had just met, or embarrassing myself completely. There he stood in front of me. The birthday boy, turning eighteen, and holding a piece of cake near my mouth. As he looked at me expectantly I wracked my brain and sent a prayer up. Was I supposed to take the cake from his hand and eat it, or was I supposed to eat it out of his hand? Out of the corner of my eye I saw his mother pull out her phone to document the moment. Great.
I took a leap of faith and ate the cake from his hand. Thankfully, I had done it right. I said thank you and congratulations and then walked awkwardly away. Although I found out 5 minutes later that traditionally you’re supposed to feed the birthday boy a piece of cake in return, I still felt accomplished in not making a complete fool of myself. Getting used to the Tamil culture is a daily struggle.
Upon leaving Guatemala, I was very used to going to sleep at nine or ten and waking up at six or seven. In Malaysia, dinnertime starts at ten and some nights we haven’t eaten until one or two. There’s really no such thing as three meals a day here either. We went to a beautiful waterfall on Tuesday with our family and although we were there only four hours, we managed to eat two full meals. I asked a couple different people and one said the first meal was only “second breakfast” while the second was real lunch, while the other said the first meal was lunch and the second “tea time.” Whatever it is, they eat a lot here and almost always with their hands. Occasionally they offer us spoons and forks (mainly because we all really suck at using our hands) but many times we just dive in. We’ve even been told that especially in the case of eating off banana leaves, one must eat with their hands because then you can really “taste the culture.”
Furthermore, I hardly ever have to wear shoes here. We live above the church and wearing shoes in church would be considered rude, so we rarely wear them unless we go out. Even then, if you enter some shops you leave your shoes at the door and you definitely leave your shoes at the front door of anyone’s home.
Everyone here also runs hardcore on what we call “Indian time.” For example, if they say they will pick you up at 10, expect about 11:30 or later. This definitely took some getting used to.
Being here almost a month now, I’ve seen no white person outside of my team. That being said, it’s taken some getting used to. We go to a shopping mall – the employees want to take selfies with us. We go to a wedding reception for people we barely know – we’re asked to perform a dance. We go to a birthday party – people take pictures of us eating. We go to a Christmas Eve service (but really a straight up party because these people know how to party) – we’re asked to perform a dance, song, and drama. We’re performing another dance and drama for New Year’s Eve as well.
The most terrifying part of all this though is in the ministry aspect. Every service that my team is in Malaysia we are expected to preach. With two services a week and only 6 girls on my team, I’m going to be in front of people quite a bit more than I’m comfortable with. That’s not all though. We are also expected to lead a couple songs in worship once a week and on the afternoons of house visits you never know when you might be asked to “bring the word.”
It’s safe to say the Lord is pushing me out of my comfort zone these next couple months, but at the same time, I couldn’t feel more at home. It doesn’t make sense, I suppose, that in a place where I am without a bed and surrounded by people so different than me that I should feel as though I belong, but I do. Although if you know me well, it may not be that big of a stretch. I did always like sleeping in, staying up late, never coming on time, and not wearing shoes in places I maybe should have.
I wish you all could be here to have the experiences I’m having these months and I could tell you loads of stories about squatty potties and Punjabis and Indian pick-up lines. But for now I just write this blog so you all know I am safe and happy in a place that is extremely uncomfortable in theory, but that the Lord has somehow made my heart call home. Know that God is already stretching and molding me as I have to learn to rely on Him more than I ever have.
Thank you all again for your prayers and love. Especially those who sent holiday wishes and greetings – it meant a great deal to me. Love you all.
