My teammate Jon wrote this blog perfectly capturing our thoughts on maybe the weirdest Race experience I’ve had thus far. I couldn’t have said it better myself, so I wanted to share his words with you. —
“Let me set the scene for you.
It’s officially month 5 on the Race.
After getting settled in the new shack we will call home for a month, the wife of our host offered to bring us into town to get food and simple supplies. I hopped in the car thrilled to go explore around town, get a closer look at the culture, and see what the people will be like in this new area. Walking around the market, you could tell Myanmar is not a very popular tourist country (they actually just opened their borders about 7 years ago), because of the way they stared, pointed, and made subtle comments to each other. This is something I’ve grown accustomed to since our first month in Côte d’Ivoire, Africa. But something about this was different. They didn’t look at us with an enthusiastic curiosity. Some were sweet enough to give a simple smile and a head nod, but the majority gave us one of those looks you would give the new kid on the block who was stepping into your territory.
To be honest, I began to feel slightly unwelcome, and then something happened that was definitely a first for me… I felt something hit my foot. When I looked down, I saw a giant glob of spit stretching from my ankle to my big toe. A ton of people here chew tobacco, so I thought that maybe it was an accident. However as I looked up slightly confused, grossed out, and extremely embarrassed, I quickly saw a group of older men standing next to me pointing and laughing. They clearly had seen what happened and found it quite amusing.
I was no longer simply uncomfortable because I was in a crowded market that reeked of fish and cow guts; I was uncomfortable because I saw I was truly unwanted here. For the first time since I left home I did not feel welcomed into a new country. But rather actively unwelcome.
I started to think the only place I would feel welcomed was at our ministry…..
Next Scene:
We have been living at an orphanage that could pass off as a small village. Not just a building with young children, but actually a small community of homes with locals that range from ages 2-70ish. It’s our privilege to join them this month and teach a variety of English classes. I was even blessed to get the class of 6-12 years olds which is basically my bread and butter.
We started on Monday and everything seemed to be going really well. We would teach during the day and play soccer with the kids in the afternoon. I started to think less about my experience in town and decided I could be happy simply staying in our little community all month.
At nights we have church services and are always asked to preach at them, which has been another cool opportunity to impart some life lessons we’ve learned onto the students.
Well, last Wednesday night was a special day because we were going to be celebrating everyone who had a birthday in May. Our host told us we should stay after church for some “fun” activities put on by the students. Little did we know what strange events were actually going to happen that night…
After our normal service and singing happy birthday to the children we were celebrating, they decided to do something new. They called up two classes, the older Bible college students and the older English students, to have a debate.
And what was the subject of this debate, you ask?
— “We have foreigners living with us. It is good” and “We have foreigners living with us. It is bad.”
Now we didn’t know this from the beginning, because the whole thing was in Burmese. But the first girl from the “it is bad” side took the stage and began yelling. The only word we made out was “English,” which was immediately followed by pointing in our direction and the crowd erupting in laughter. This happened over and over during her 1-2 minute turn at the microphone, and we started to feel uncomfortable.
The next team did us a favor by explaining in English what the debate was about. We then watched as the team arguing “it is good” calmly stated their case, giving us mild head nods throughout. But each time the other team came up, the vibe turned rapidly from a mature debate to what I can only describe as a Comedy Central Roast. Their arguments were flavored with shouting, pointing, passionate talking, and were always followed by the entire room bursting at the seams with laughter.
Being foreigners we get laughed at pretty often. We don’t understand their culture, so we usually make fools of ourselves doing simple things like starting fires and cooking local food. But typically they have the respect to avoid laughing in our faces.
However, the debate made us realize they had taken their opportunity to mock us in front of everyone. Students and teachers alike were pointing and laughing at us, and even our ministry host couldn’t contain himself.
We sat through about 30-40 minutes of this… talk about awkward. And to make it even worse, the side that took advantage of the microphone to mock us WON THE DEBATE. The panel of teacher-judges voted “it is bad to live with foreigners.”
We sat there baffled and without words until service was done, then stood up and returned to the small little hut we call home.
After a few days of processing, I’m starting to understand why we are here. We didn’t come to change their culture, nor tell them how to live their lives. We came to simply do whatever they ask us to do, just like we do everywhere we go. (And even if they don’t show it, I do understand they wouldn’t have invited us to stay if they truly felt like we were more of a burden than a blessing.)
I think about the horrible impression they have of westerners. That they see so little of us that they‘ve decided to not only steer clear of us, but to actually find and disrespect us. They have such spoiled perspectives of us that they have created a barrier avoiding letting us in emotionally. And that’s something I desire to change in being here.
I think of all the towns Jesus went to, mocked, disrespected, thrown out, and ridiculed. And I see how he continued to be loving, compassionate, and understanding, while still standing his ground and not letting hate win out. He didn’t allow himself to stoop down to the level of the man being lead by anger.
And if I play my cards right, if I show them the love I came here to show, if I value them and respect them the way I would want to be, I may get the smallest chance to leave a better impression than what they currently have of us.
“Sometimes it takes going to the places that don’t welcome you to bless people how they need to be blessed. With new perspectives, and open hearts. It’s easy to allow a hardened heart harden yours. But what takes true courage and strength is using your heart to soften theirs. Don’t get angry, don’t get sad, and don’t give up. Because these are the people who need the most love in their lives.”
———
Adriana
