cross cultural humor – A Life Overseas |

Serving Well – a Book, a Resource, a Shared Life

I can’t remember when Jonathan and Elizabeth Trotter first entered my online writing life. Perhaps it was when the former ALOS site founder and I were discussing one of their posts, perhaps it was before – no matter, at some point I realized that our online friendship had become one that I looked to for wisdom, laughter, and venting. We who are a part of A Life Overseas know well the value of online friendships.

When I was approached to write the foreword for their now newly-released book I was both honored and humbled. I share it today with our community with a hearty endorsement for the book Serving Well. Within this volume is an invitation to live fully, love well, grieve loss, fight injustice, and embrace friendship.

When it comes to missions, missionaries, and the missions’ conversations, we live in a cynical and skeptical age. Those who are serving or want to serve overseas are assaulted with everything from failed missionary blogs and podcasts to heated debates on colonialism and white saviors.

Despite the cynicism, God is still moving people to places around the world where they are putting down roots in unfamiliar soil and seeking to write their names in the lands where God has directed them. They seek to live out God’s story in a cross-cultural context.

Where do those who are intent on pressing forward in a life of cross-cultural service turn? How can they live well in places where they don’t belong?

Jonathan and Elizabeth’s book, Serving Well, emerges as a bright light and resource for those who are intent on pressing forward. Transcending place, this book is a wellspring of wisdom, perspective, truth, and encouragement for cross-cultural workers. Beginning with preparation, the book covers everything from preparation to returning, with sections on grieving, marriage, children, communicating and more. It can be read consecutively or, depending on the reader’s needs, by section.

I am a missionary kid, a failed missionary, and someone who continues to serve cross-culturally. I met Jonathan and Elizabeth as all those identities merged, and I read their words and heard their hearts with incredible gratitude. Here was the real deal. My cynical heart found solace and foundational wisdom and understanding through their writing. This couple is living out God’s big story, and they are living it out in a cross-cultural setting. Their writing reflects their lives – the good, the hard, the awful, and the fun. We are not only invited into their words, we are invited into their lives. In Elizabeth, readers will find a friend and wise confidante; in Jonathan, they will find a counselor and brother; and in both they will find a couple who exemplify cultural humility, godly leadership, and deep joy in the journey of serving.

In the New Testament, the Apostle Paul writes to people in Thessaloniki, Greece and says this: Because we loved you so much, we were delighted to share with you not only the gospel of God but our lives as well.”* In the library of mission’s literature you can find many things, but to be invited into a life through a book is something rare and precious. Serving Well is not just a book – it is a shared life.

This excerpt is from the forward of Serving Well: Help for the Wannabe, Newbie, or Weary Cross-cultural Christian Worker © Wipf and Stock February, 2019 by Jonathan and Elizabeth Trotter.

Other Endorsements:

“Serving Well is deep and rich, covering all aspects of an international life of service from multiple angles. It is full of comfort, challenge, and good advice for anyone who serves abroad, or has ever thought about it, no matter where they find themselves in their journeys. It is also really helpful reading for anyone who has loved ones, friends or family, serving abroad——or returning, to visit or repatriate. Jonathan and Elizabeth Trotter are both insightful and empathetic writers, full of humility and quick to extend grace——both to themselves and to others. Their writing covers sorrow and joy, hope and crisis, weariness and determination. Best of all, from my perspective as someone who has worked with TCKs for over 13 years, it contains an excellent collection of important advice on the topic of raising missionary kids. Choose particular topics, or slowly meander through the entire volume piece by piece, but whatever you do——read this book!”
——Tanya Crossman, cross cultural consultant and author of Misunderstood: The Impact of Growing Up Overseas in the 21st Century

“Serving Well is more than a book to sit down and read once. It is a tool box to return to over and over, a companion for dark and confusing days, and a guide for effective and long-lasting service. Elizabeth and Jonathan are the real deal and Serving Well, like the Trotters, is wise, compassionate, vulnerable, and honest. This needs to be on the shelves of everyone involved in international, faith-based ministry.”
——Rachel Pieh Jones, author of Finding Home: Third Culture Kids in the World, and Stronger Than Death: How Annalena Tonelli Defied Terror and Tuberculosis in the Horn of Africa

You can purchase Serving Well: Help for the Wannabe, Newbie, or Weary Cross-cultural Christian Worker on Amazon or directly from the publisher Wipf & Stock.

*Thessalonians 2:8

Real Housewives of Cochabamba

In Americana pop culture annals our time in history will be marked by the exposé-esque entertainment of: the reality tv show. Amidst the hundreds of shows about “real” people doing “real” stuff you will find a group with the prefix ‘Real Housewives of…”. We have a little joke in the missionary wife community here in my city that when we tell our crazy stories they would be great episodes of the fictitious tv series ‘Real Housewives of Cochabamba’. Granted, I have never seen an episode of any Housewives shows, I can only refer to the cliché. No, all that drama is not my style; I have enough personal drama.

Confession: I love the reality tv show Survivor. Oh the joy of being able to vote people off the island… whoops, too judgey? You’ve never wanted to kick out a few tribe members? It’s only a game, folks! Okay, okay. Yes, we love everybody because Jesus loves everybody. Yes. Sometimes, though, I just love people at a distance. You know what I mean?

About clichés, I feel I must clarify lest anyone get the wrong impression about the reference to the Housewives of Cochabamba in this here article. Sadly, the term Housewife in some contexts carries a derogatory slur towards a married woman as a lazy lady who sits around the house eating bon-bons all day “just” taking care of her home. Nuh-uh! Not these ladies! Also, the cliché of the Housewives tv show franchise insinuates jobless women who are shallow, vapid, materialistic, bored gossips. No way! This is not the case in my town!

The toil of living in a foreign land is anything but those clichés. Any wife living outside their passport country works hard, even if she has no title beyond housewife. Some days just getting food can be an arduous task.

Our joke refers to the shared nature of the absurd drama these shows portray and the craziness we encounter just living our daily lives.

Real Housewives of Cochabamba

My friend went to the shoe stand in the market of hundreds of stands and thousands of shoes. She picked up a few sandals she liked. The lady at the stand said, “Pick your favorite one.” So she chose. She tried it on and didn’t like it that much so asked to try on another pair. The vender said, “No. I told you to pick your favorite one. You picked one. That is the only one.”

Another friend went to a local beauty parlor to get a manicure and a pedicure. The manicure went fine. Then came the petrifying pedicure. The gal brought out a cheese grater and a razor in order to work off the calluses. Ouch!

I got my long hair cut to a short style. The stylist tied it back with a rubber band before she chopped off the chunk of straight golden strands. The other stylist saw what she had done. She asked if she could have my hair that had just been cut. I let her take it. Next thing I know she is pinning the dismembered ponytail to the tuft of black hair at the nape of her own neck. She spent the rest of the time I was in the busy salon flipping and flaunting her new blond hair for all to see.

How about that time we went to the movies and wanted to buy popcorn? The movie had already started so they told us at the counter, “We can’t sell you this popcorn because it is to sell to the people who come for the next movie.”

Or the one with the fries? My friend only wanted fries. The place didn’t sell just fries. “Okay, so what if I pay you full price for the meal but you don’t give me the chicken, you only give me the fries?” Answer was, “No, you must take your chicken.”

Or the time with the apples? Friends were not allowed to purchase all the apples at the stand, as they had requested, in the event that some other people would come by who also wanted to buy apples.

I am sure an anthropologist or social sciences genius could explain to me the undercurrents of logical reasoning below the surface of each of these encounters. These are moments of culture shock between people from different backgrounds with different value systems. Analysis would bring enlightenment. Blah, blah, blah. But at the moment? Hilariousness!

Shoes, beauty parlors, nail salons, movie snacks, and other funny food fumbles make up a sizable chunk of our lives. Not every second is spent visiting the homeless, sharing the gospel message at bible study, or wiping the snot off the precious little noses of orphans. As they say in these here parts, our halo is a little crooked on our horns. Meaning, not every moments is brimming with holiness and celestial good works. We live our lives, and sometimes they get a little crazy.

Maybe we should work on a pitch to some Hollywood producer. People would watch this stuff; I’m tellin’ ya’, they really would. Nah. Now that I think about it, I don’t want a camera crew following me around all day. Although, it would be great publicity for the ministries, right? Nope. Just no.

I want to hear your crazy stories of the Real Housewives of _________ (your city). Make me laugh. I need to laugh. We all need to laugh.

*The photo for our fictitious tv show logo was taken at this year’s Christmas party. Love these ladies!

*The Real Housewives trademark is copyrighted and does not belong to me. Duh. {smile} Okaythanksbye.

One-Uppers

For some reason 2014 is the year that I cannot seem to formulate many serious or deep thoughts when discussing my “life overseas”. I would like to believe it is simply “a season”, and not some major personality flaw.

With a virus spreading like wild-fire, life in Haiti has been especially rough for the last several weeks, it doesn’t appear that it will let up anytime soon. My husband and I are walking through new things with our adult kids that we launched not so long ago while trying to be present with the five we still have at home.

Things just feel a little more intense than usual. Maybe laughing at myself (and you) is my favored way to remain positive.

When things get rough, find something to laugh at, even if it is yourself.

A few years back there was a skit on Saturday Night Live based on a character named Penelope. She was the person who was always driven to one-up everyone else, in every situation, even when it was to celebrate how much more miserable she was than everyone else.

Perhaps you stated that your relatives came over on the Mayflower. Well, Penelope’s came over a month before yours did on the “Aprilflower.”

You got in a bad car accident yesterday? Penelope had been in three that very day.

She was often not even invited into a conversation, but still, she would interject and get the spotlight and out-do all other stories being shared with her over the top competitive one-upper neurosis.

I get a kick out of the way humanitarian workers, missionaries, and expats can come off a little bit like Penelope without even lying or trying. Sometimes we scroll through our Twitter or other social media accounts and see our friends in the developed world airing their legitimate grievances and we nod in agreement. Often times the Penelope in us comes out.

Now, remember, most of us are being totally honest and not necessarily trying to be a one-upper, but by default and by life circumstance, we just ARE.

Here are some possible examples,

A pal in Minnesota says, “I have been so sick with this nasty cold for more than a week.” Expat/M/HW says: “Yeah, I have had Dengue Fever, Cerebral Malaria, and Chikungunya this last year, being sick really stinks.”

Your little sister says, “Please pray for my daughter to do well in marching band try outs, she is very nervous.” Expat/M/HW says: “Yeah, my daughter is getting on a puddle jumper in a few hours to escape civil unrest in our country and she is nervous (about being shot) too.”

Person says, “Oh my gosh, our hot water broke and it has been a week without it!” Expat/M/HW says: “Yeah, we don’t have hot water (like, ever) – I hear that!”

Your aunt says, “The storm took out our power and we have gone without power for three days!” Expat/M/HW says: “Yeah, our batteries and inverter got stolen and the generator is on the fritz too, we won’t have power for six to nine months – we have to fundraise 5K first.”

Friend says, “Oh.My.GOSH. I sat in traffic forEVER today on the way into the city.” Expat/M/HW says: “I totally understand that. I do that every day of every month of every year. As a matter of fact, last night I slept in traffic.”

Brother says, “I paid $4.20 per gallon for gas this morning, how atrocious.” Expat/M/HW says: “Oh, gasoline? We haven’t had any here in three weeks. I would love to pay $4.20 for some.”

Co-worker says, “The grocery store was totally out of my brand of Greek yogurt, I was so bummed.” Expat/M/HW says, “The country I live in never built the store that had refrigerators for Greek yogurt. So, yeah, also bummed.”

Your buddy says, “We went out to eat and it took 45 minutes to get our food! Can you believe that?” Expat/M?HW says, “We did too, there was nothing available on the menu so we had warm Coke for lunch.”

While the truth may be that your day-to-day inconveniences consistently trump those of your friends “back home”, I advise you to leave your Penelope responses in your head.

If you do, you will always have friends.

Is it ever hard to offer others your sincere empathy or a listening ear when the complaints seem smallish from your point of view?

Do you bust out your Penelope on them, or hold your tongue?

Adventures in Awkward

A little humor for your weekend…

Disclaimer:
If you struggle with prim and properness to the point of easily offended you should not read this post. There are words that are used to describe human bodies.

One day my husband, Troy, declared that his “life had become far too weird for description.”

I beg to differ and am going to try to describe. It might very well be far too weird…. But not too weird for description.

Late morning on a Saturday I arrived at a house we were overseeing for teen-moms in Haiti. The young ladies had been invited to swim and spend some time over at our house. They’d been informed of my arrival time in advance but in true Haitian style they did not begin to shower, change, pack, or get ready until they saw my face standing in their kitchen. Like many warm climate cultures, time is not a thing.Eventually we made it to the car. At least one of us was annoyed. Five young women, three babies, and I packed into the truck. We arrived at our house quickly, it was just a few blocks from where they lived.

The young women and their three sons all came in and sat down. No one talked. We all sat staring at one another. There were moments of awkward before I asked why in the heck they were so quiet? “We’re not used to it here” they replied. I looked to Troy to do his comedy routine or lighten the mood. He gave me a look that said, “This was your idea.”

We got warm bread from the little bakery across the street. We all made sandwiches with the bread and the conversation started flowing a little more freely. After we ate I asked the ladies if they wanted to swim or watch a movie? Everyone squealed at the idea of swimming. I had taken my stupid pill that morning because it never occurred to me to qualify if they knew how to swim. I figured if you are signing up to swim, and even squealing about swimming, that means you know how to swim. First world (rookie) mistake.

The ladies did not own swim suits. There had never been a reason for them to own suits. They were all size negative something on bottom and something not so easily defined or described on top… ample we’ll call it.My teenage daughter handed out running shorts to all five of them but we were a little bit stumped on the tops. They all thought wearing their bra as a swim suit top was sufficient and since it was the only thing we had, we went with it.We learned early in our time in Haiti that breasts are not really a thing here. No one cares if you see them, no one gets all worked up about them, they just don’t do in this culture what they do in most North American cultures. They are not necessarily something to be uncomfortable about seeing. Modesty or concern about what is showing on top is not on the radar for the vast majority. Showing a boob is like showing a foot – of little consequence.

In our first years here Troy regularly encountered female employees lifting their shirt to wipe sweat off their face as he spoke with them, or showing him a boob rash or infection before he had a chance to run for cover. More than once he found himself consulting on issues of the breasts. (A breast consultant as it were.) Let’s just say he saw some things in the early years.

One time when he was very sick with Dengue Fever, a bra-less woman holding only a shirt around her front half showed up at our door asking to visit him. Not gonna lie, my willingness to embrace the culture pretty much ended right there. Sorry topless lady, you cannot visit my husband bedside. All this to say, we’ve been totally desensitized to boobs.

ring_buoys Five young women headed across the drive way in their shorts and bras to swim. After they got in through the gate, one by one they hopped in. The fourth girl into the water was five months pregnant. She jumped into the deep end. She did not know how to swim.

What felt like four lifetimes (but was really five seconds) passed while I set the child I was holding down on the driveway and jumped in to pull the drowning pregnant girl to the shallow end. There was nothing very heroic about it. I envision all good rescues starting with the lifeguard , dressed in a red Speedo, swimming expertly across open choppy waters, muscles glistening in the sun, hair sun-dyed the perfect streaky blonde. This particular rescue was quite a bit less Baywatch.

I was instantly in contact with the drowning person. It took three seconds start to finish. No time for the sun to glisten at all.

At that point we paused and called for a pretty crucial moment of clarity. We spent a little time determining who could swim. That seemed wise what with five people already in the pool. It turned out that only one girl actually knew how to swim.

Those of us not swimming were helping with the three babies and our own small army of children and we were kind of chuckling about how dumb we are. We were not surprised when two or three girls got out of the pool to check out our son’s bikes. Next thing you know, they started riding the bikes around the driveway and what we very generously call our yard.

It occurred to me to ask my husband when his friend Harold was coming over to work on his computer. Troy shrugged and said “any time”. Harold was new to Haiti. I asked Troy if it might be wise to give Harold a heads up about the scene upon opening our front gate. Troy thought about it and said, “Yeah. Probably.”

Troy called Harold and this is what I heard him say – “Hi Harold. You’re still coming? Okay. Well. Uh. Here’s the thing. We’ve lived here a while so maybe some really odd things have become sort of normal to us. Uh. Ok. I’m just calling to tell you that there are teenage girls riding bikes in their bras in my yard. That might be sort of alarming to you. So I thought I’d tell you.”

I was laughing so hard by the time Troy finished his awkward explanation. The absurdity of it all was hilarious. Troy made is deceleration again: “My life is far too weird for description.”

(Now proven untrue by the way.)

The funnier part was that when Harold arrived he walked in and toward us at champion race-walker speed, across the driveway straight into the house without looking left or right. He clearly wanted no part in the bizarre happenings at our house that day. We couldn’t blame the poor guy.

Modesty is defined differently from culture to culture. Things that are considered provocative in one place, do not cause even so much as a raised eyebrow in another.

Do you have things that you have grown used to seeing that once made you squirm?

I have laughed at this awkward moment many times over the years, but we all know that sometimes it is a bit more difficult to laugh and challenging to navigate.

Any moments, funny or awkward, you’d like to share?