The ladies…Ashley, Amanda, Kip & me…taking a break from chopping, carrying and stacking fire wood (the small pieces)!
I believe I am generally someone who appreciates cultural differences…but, may I have permission to speak freely for a moment? After a little sarcasm and venting, I will regain my composure…I promise!
I have been faced with cultural differences since the beginning of the Race. In the Philippines, people ate balut…need I say more? In China, it was not uncommon to walk by a decapitated pig head, still dripping with blood on the street. In South Africa, we had to be extra cognizant of our safety when walking around the neighborhood. Mozambique acquainted us with overcrowded, smelly vehicles which frequently included not just people, but a live goat thrown in the back and/or a live chicken at someone’s feet. Swaziland…well, there I learned that burping and spitting were considered rude (neither restriction posing too much of a problem for me personally).
Romania is where cultural differences started to affect me personally and the real test of my humility and grace began. Before attending a church service our first Sunday morning, our contact informed us that the women in the church were not allowed to share our thoughts during the Bible Study portion of the church service…whaaat??? You can tell me that this is cultural and not personal, but boy did it feel personal! Someone else’s values were being placed on me…and an assumption was made that I would fall in line…and it was HARD. I did not want to be at that church. If they did not value me, I did not want to go. The way it worked out, we did not have to return to that church (but for other reasons).
Serbia. Jobs are often described to us as “a man’s job” versus a “woman’s job”. Now, I am a huge fan of how God made men and women different and how he made us to complement one another. I love that men can step up to do things that allow them to be the strong provider and that women can step up to do things that reflect our caring and nurturing nature. But, I also value having the freedom to make a choice of what I will and will not do. Sometimes, a girl just wants to experience the challenge of carrying the heavy logs too. Tonight at Bible Study, one of the participants was sharing that this coming Saturday is he and his wife’s turn to clean the church. I said, “Oh, that’s nice. Very helpful.”, and he said, “Yes, but I would NEVER clean my own home, that’s a woman’s job.” Bite my tongue. Deep breath. I wanted to scream, “Are you serious?”, and laugh all at the same time.
Serbians also have what I would consider to be some interesting “wives tales”. For example, I was admonished not to sit on the floor because of how the hard surface and cold temperature will affect my organs. This “rule” was problem for me when my legs were tired from the arthritis and I NEEDED to sit…and there was nothing but the ground to sit on. I was struck by how frustrated I was when someone else’s values were imposed on me when what I was being asked to do actually hurt me in another way. I know that their intentions were only good based on what they believe, but every rebellious part of me flared up in that moment. Another example…I wore flip flops to Bible Study tonight…bad choice. My incredibly well-meaning host immediately asked me if I was okay and told me that having my feet open in the cold weather like that was very dangerous. He said that his wife had her feet exposed to the cold once and that it caused stomach problems and fertility issues. Bite my tongue. Deep breath.
Little things like this have happened throughout the last two months that trigger feelings of being less valuable as a woman and/or feeling like values that are not my own are being forced on me without my having any control.
It has been a season of walking in humility…and choosing to see the humor. Ha ha…hmmm…Okay, composure re-gained.
