Being a missionary is hard. Seriously, it’s week 2 and it’s really hard. A year ago, when I decided to put my life on hold and become a full-time missionary for a year, I severely misjudged the struggles that I would face. This month I find myself in India. It’s hot, the food is spicy, the toilet and shower are one, the culture is opposite of anything I have ever known, and community living is a struggle. Don’t get me wrong, there are so many beautiful things, too. The children I met have taken my breath away with their smiles, the culture is one of hospitality, everywhere I go someone wants to take a selfie with me, and I have a 24/7 group of friends to go through it with me. But, it is still really hard.
Language barriers-
No matter how much nodding, gesturing or acting out I do, the language barrier still gets to me. Let me tell you how fun acting out “toilet paper” is. Last night I found myself in an ER in the middle of Hyderabad after a three-day venture of not keeping any food or water down. I was exhausted, nauseous and honestly terrified of being in a foreign hospital. When a doctor walked me to the ER with no paperwork or records in hand and told me to lie down on a bed, I was confused. When a nurse came in to give me an IV filled with medication that I didn’t know, I was scared. Not being able to communicate well with the people who are pumping your body full of medications is not something I take lightly. In this moment I found myself being so incredibly grateful that, for the most part, I am able to communicate with and understand those around me. Because in the moments when I cannot, it’s really hard.
Token white person-
But for real, y’all… it’s a thing. Everywhere I go someone is asking to take a selfie with me. My runs through the park make way for hundreds of curious eyes and some uncomfortable stares. Let’s not forget the questions! People love to ask those. I don’t think I have ever felt like I stand out quite as much as I have since being in India. I don’t look like anyone, talk like anyone, or handle spicy food quite like anyone. It’s a humbling experience for sure, and I think it has given me a lesson in feeling like an outsider. Because being a missionary in a foreign country isn’t glamourous, it’s really hard.
Communication-
In America we 100% take for granted the use of WIFI and internet capabilities. I go hours and days at a time with no access to internet or WIFI. This means I go days at a time without the ability of talking to my friends and loved ones at home. When I do get the opportunity to talk to people, I think some of them forget that most times I have had to walk miles to and from an internet café. They forget I am having to stay up really late or get up super early in order to talk to them when the time difference won’t disrupt their schedule. They forget that I am over here trying to adjust to a new way of living and a brand new community while simultaneously trying to feel as if I am still a part of their lives, too. Many tears have been shed over the feeling of being left behind. The moments that may seem trivial to the people back home are the same moments that mean the world to me. Because when it feels like the ones you love aren’t trying to stay connected and present, it’s really hard.
Sleep-
Who needs it? Apparently not me! I will seriously never complain about an American road trip ever again. Not EVER! Getting an entire seat to myself on a bus seems too good to be true. A bed with a pillow top on it just seems out of the question. I am learning, very quickly, that flexibility and being able to sleep anywhere are two things that are worth more than gold. Because running on no sleep for what seems like the gazillionth day in the row was my 10-year-old self’s dream, but now it’s really hard.
Community living-
Big never-ending sleepover…I think not. When people told me community living would be hard, I laughed and told them “I lived in a sorority house, nothing scares me.” Lies! Those were lies I was telling myself, because nothing can quite prepare you for sharing a room with 6 people who you have spent a total of two weeks with. Nothing can prepare you for being smack in the middle of your much-anticipated bucket shower when three other people parade in to brush their teeth. Nothing can prepare you to have one person washing their face, one person on the toilet and one showering all within the same 4-foot radius. There is just no preparation for that kind of closeness. Because being naked in front of people you have only lived with for two weeks isn’t freeing, it’s really hard.
Although it’s hard, and at times I really want to give up, I have seen so much growth in myself already. I am learning how to press in to the hard things. I am learning how to love and serve people that I didn’t pick. I am learning how to be present in a way that I didn’t think I ever could be. I am getting to try new foods. I am immersing myself in a culture different from my own. I am living a life that I never thought I would. So, yes, it is really hard. But, yes, it is really worth it.
XOXO,
Maddie
