You would think we’re all celebrities judging by the way the locals pull out their fancy cameras with telescoping lenses. Subtlety – it doesn’t exist in their vocabulary. So we just smile and wave and try to laugh about it later. Frankly speaking, we stand out. Many of the places that we have been over the past nine months don’t receive regular visitors. At times we were the only white people to ever step foot in a village.
It becomes a draining affair. Heads turn everywhere we walk and it brings a whole wealth of extra attention. Most of the time it is innocent enough, but there is a fare share of unwelcome attention too. It doesn’t matter where we go, we are always noticed. We never have the luxury of peaceful indifference.
I’m an American, so I’m often asked for unusual favors. Many people are under the impression that I personally know Michael Jackson (even though he’s dead) and Barack Obama. They want me to deliver a message to them. Another unusual request that I’ve received on several occasions is someone asking me to send them a prosthetic limb in the mail when I return home… ya… then I have to explain that I think it’s a bit more complicated than that. Unfortunately, I have to deal with a lot of people trying to rip me off. I’ve heard some pretty creative reasons as to why my taxi should be twice the honest price. And then there are other times when I’m willing to pay it after smelling alcohol on the breath of nearly ever other tuk tuk driver in the area. The girls on my team are often asked to model. What are they modeling? We never found out either, but without fail a random photographer giddily approaches to take a picture so that they can sell it to some ad agency as a stock photo. The preconceptions that people have of us fuel some truly bizarre interactions.
We have come across a load of incredibly hospitable people as well. They treat us like royalty at their tables. It is out of a genuine desire to show us kindness, not just a cultural expectation. Those are the people that leave a lasting impression on me. Yet, the fact remains, as a foreigner I am always someone else’s guest – welcomed, or not. During the race, I’ve never truly been able to call a place my home, even when my parents flew all the way around the world to visit me.
Home is the place where you are known. Friendships are deeper than a month. You’re family is close even when you’re all out of contact. You are established. Seemingly insignificant memories form a part of your personal history. There is a strong sense of belonging, even in your moments of solitude. You know what to expect with the change of seasons. Complicated tasks seem a little more simple. You are no longer the guest. You are home.
In two months time, I will be going home. I know what it is like to grow weary as a foreigner. I know what it’s like to long for that moment when life seems a little less complicated. I know what it’s like to be at home.
Ironically, we are all anticipating that same moment. The Bible teaches that we live our whole lives as foreigners. We experience only the shadow of a greater reality that is to come. We long for our homecoming.
Yet what shall I choose? I do not know! I am torn between the two: I desire to depart and be with Christ, which is better by far; but it is more necessary for you that I remain in the body.
Philippians 1:22-24
Therefore we are always confident and know that as long as we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord. For we live by faith, not by sight. We are confident, I say, and would prefer to be away from the body and at home with the Lord. So we make it our goal to please him, whether we are at home in the body or away from it.
2 Corinthians 5:6
I think it is right to refresh your memory as long as I live in the tent of this body, because I know that I will soon put it aside, as our Lord Jesus Christ has made clear to me.
2 Peter 1:13
Dear friends, I urge you, as foreigners and exiles, to abstain from sinful desires, which wage ware against your soul.
1 Peter 2:11
