Culture shock. The first five months of this journey, I have seen so many new things, some beautiful and some appalling. I sometimes wondered if I was experiencing the “culture shock” everyone speaks of when you travel overseas. To enter Myanmar, my squad and I had to take 10 hour bus to immigration, and then walk across the boarder from Thailand. As I walked over the 400 meter bridge with my forty-something pound pack on my back, and my stuffed backpack on my front, I felt it. Culture-shock. As I peered over to the other the side of Friendship bridge, sweating from the piercing sun, I watched this new culture go about their day. Many passed us by. For the first time, I was staring at them just as much as they were staring at me. This is the developing third-world. We’ve been here for 7 days. Day by day I become more and more confused by this culture. Poverty and wealth seem to be in such close quarters. Limited water supply. Bucket-showers. Trash EVERYWHERE on the streets. Yet, decent wifi in many establishments. Average income is about $3 a day. Yet, I can walk into some coffee shops and feel like I’m in the first-world and pay first-world prices for my food if I want to. Myanmar is a predominantly Buddhist culture. Persecution and genoicide of Muslims is happening in the North (not where we are). Yet, this year was the first time Christmas was allowed to be celebrated openly. God is clearly moving.
