Looking Back: Things I Learned, Loved and Miss from Asia

As my husband and I contemplate our ten years of marriage this summer, I was reminded of the importance of looking back to some of the formative experiences he and I have shared so far. In a new multi-part series, Looking Back, I am unpacking several episodes that influenced us from the time he and I met until now. Today, Part 1 offers glimpses of what we loved and learned during our years in China and Vietnam.

                         photo by Viajar24h.com 

Three months after I graduated with my bachelor's degree, I got my first passport and headed across the ocean to work as a university EFL teacher in China.  Many Americans and even a few Asians said they admired that I was willing to give up so much.  However, by living abroad for seven years, I came to admire and relish the simpler way of life surrounding me each day.

A majority of the college students I knew mostly lived without:

1. Refrigerators
2. Washing machines
3. Electric dryers
4. Hot water
5. Different outfits for each day of the week
6. Ovens
7. Cars
8. Personal computers
9. Cell phones
10. Air conditioners

In the years since I taught in China and Vietnam, things have changed quickly, with technology becoming more available to the masses.  Many students now have their own cell phones and computers, especially in the big cities like Hanoi and Changchun.  But I doubt that the overall ease of living has changed that much, as you can see here.

As a foreign teacher (and then a stay-at-home mom) in Asia, I possessed many things that many local people did not.  I had a computer, a refrigerator, a toaster oven, and a passport.  However, I also learned that I could live with hot water just four nights a week, no car, line drying clothes in my apartment all year, and teach with only a chalkboard and CD player.  I came to enjoy my frequent trips to the open air markets, my visits to the dorm rooms (which sometimes held ten to twelve girls each), and the amazingly authentic local Chinese and Vietnamese food that sprang from just a wok, a gas burner, and an electric rice cooker.

In both China and Vietnam, it was true that babies didn't wear diapers, not every family had a refrigerator, and electricity was not a 24/7 guarantee.  But once I learned some of the local language, shopping was a true pleasure--even without coupons!  Each outing was a chance to chat with the shopkeeper or seller about what I needed and answer a few personal questions.  Admittedly, my fair skin and blue eyes meant I was not just another face in the crowd, but there were plenty of regular customers who would sometimes linger to chat before leaving with their purchase.  It wasn't "just business," it was personal.  And that familiarity is one of many aspects I miss still.

I wonder, whatever happened to the kind old man who stood outside guarding motorbikes across from the rose sellers?  He would often run to the pile of discarded but still-beautiful fresh flowers (which were too short to sell in the standard bundle) and give a floral bloom to my daughter as we passed by that day.  And what about the Vietnamese English teachers who met with me and my American friends for an intercultural play group?  Do they ever recall our conversations about differences in child rearing and family life?  And I wonder what has become of the student who spent so much time with me that she once said (in amazement) that she forgot for a moment I was not Chinese.  It is a little painful to bring back those precious moments, knowing how far away they are from my current life in the American midwest.

While I am still sad about the faces I left behind, I remain thankful to have seen how millions of people can get along just fine without all the trappings most Americans now deem essential.  I wish I were not so swept up in the busyness and the possessions that can sometimes crowd out even casual friendships.  To have meaningful, personal, face-to-face connections, one has to make room.

So when I think back to the people and places I knew in Asia, I did not see abject poverty at every turn. Most people had their daily needs met.  What I mainly remember is the rugged simplicity and the time that ordinary people had (and took) for relationships.  When I don't keep things simple and I allow relationships to be neglected, it is I who am the impoverished one.

A simpler life and more time for friendships--these are two things my husband and I miss and seek to create in our current context.  How do you pursue these goals in your current season of life?  Have you been able to simplify and make time for people?  If so, I would love to know how.

Putting Facebook to Good Use

 

Since I am fairly unlikely to call up a friend on the phone, it's great to have other quick options for efficient communication.   However, of my 200 plus friends who have joined Facebook, most seem to have hit the wall of Facebook-fatigue last year.  My updates have slowed as well, but I still want to put this social networking thing to good use.  I have drawn the line at the online games.  I do not play them, since I spend too much time on the internet already.  But the community spirit that Facebook games embody intrigues me.  However, instead of getting virtual help to build something on my farm, I like to use Facebook to interface with real life situations I am facing. 

Here are a few ways I've used Facebook to help myself or others in the real world.

1. In my status update, I have made open requests to borrow items, like the cup here, which I requested to hold the blueberry punch recipe I created.  And I've been meaning to put out another request soon for a crochet hook--hopefully today!
2. When I have needed to find childcare, I have tagged local friends in notes.  So far my efforts have met with success each time, even when I made a last-minute plea (which is not unusual for me).
3. I have invited friends to join me in an activity.  Most recently, I welcomed others to join me in a daily singing experiment.  It was fascinating to see who responded, near and far (mostly far).

Perhaps these will inspire you to try your hand at using social networking to build true 3-D community.  Way back in 2008, I mentioned some tips I came across for Christians using Facebook, and the above examples are ways I've tried to put that advice into action.  Happy facebooking, everyone!

You can find this and many other links to helpful ideas at Works for Me Wednesday.

Good-bye Mountaintop, Hello Loneliness

Whereas last week I had a dear friend accompanying me all through the day and helping in the kitchen, this week I fell into a serious housekeeping slump. The contrast between this week and last was stark. It hit me again that one of the hardest parts of being a stay-at-home parent is spending my days apart from other adults.

Photo from Wikimedia Commons

Several women have admitted to me that a fear of isolation motivates them to work outside the home. I completely agree that it is easier to have someone working alongside me, pulling me in the right direction. Now that the "mountaintop" moments are over, I need to find proper motivation to press forward.

Adequate sleep, Bible study, a shower, and exercise are invaluable for gaining momentum. But when one or more of them are missing, I have not forged ahead as I should. Other people, like my husband, keep going regardless.

So without making excuses, I'm trying to figure out how I might implement the "two are better than one" principle (Proverbs 15). In this season of life, forging and growing new friendships is difficult, since there are so many things I need to do for my family. To have a friend I need to be a friend, but not at my family's expense. This is my challenge. If I were more faithful in keeping up with the needs of my household, might I have more freedom to befriend others?

Remembering that God is my constant companion is a solace that can help propel me and keep me from grumbling. And I should be grateful for the face-to-face fellowship I have at church, in our small group, at a playgroup, and at a new weekly Bible study. It's too easy to focus on what I don't have rather than what I do. Healthy doses of gratitude would go a long way.

And yet I can't help thinking that there must also be ways for believers to have less solitary lives--that we might encourage one another to live, laugh, and love more abundantly.

Thanks, Company Girls, for walking with me.

Past Connections, Present Roles

Image from Wikimedia Commons

Walking out under a starlit sky to sip a late night cup of tea is something I haven't done in a long time. But my friend of over 15 years came to town, and we hearkened back to our college days together and caught up on each others' lives during the 68 precious hours she was with us. She also managed to wash almost every dish that lurked in my kitchen, in addition to coming so far to see me. I tried not to feel too guilty. And during daylight hours, even without dishes to do, I still found ways to occupy my time, like cooking, and disciplining my three darling children.

Another experience we have in common is living overseas; soon she plans to return to a more rugged way of life abroad. So our days together were an unexpected bright spot of encouragement and hope (for me anyway). I was reminded to be thankful for the friends I have been given, wherever they may be. And I know I must be more faithful to pray for them and let them know I appreciate their part in my life. Even if we are not as close in proximity or when other duties don't allow frequent face to face interactions, I can be a faithful friend.

Or can I? I sometimes wonder if there are any women with young children who manage a satisfying balance of their roles as wives, mothers, home keepers, and friends. Most women I have met have at least one of these areas that tends to get neglected. Lately I have been disappointed by how poorly I am doing in all of these roles. I have a good idea as to why, since Jesus said, "apart from me you can do nothing."

So, Company Girls, if you have a real life example of a woman who attains a godly balance, whether it's you or someone who know and respect, I'd love to know!

Narrowing One's Choices to Build Connections in a Broken World

This week I was inspired by an excerpt in the The Week magazine,"Why we hate us", by Richard Meyer, from his book by the same title. Meyer describes, quite accurately I think, how American society is breaking down and we are left frustrated and angry. The reason? We've cut ourselves adrift from tradition and one another.

At the close of the excerpt, however, he offers an idea on how he is taking a small but brilliant step to remedy the problem. He does it on his lunch break. Meyer recalls how it started with ordering a sandwich:

"...The sandwich had tomato on it. I asked for no tomato.

I vowed to never, ever buy lunch on a workday from a stranger again...So now I get lunch from Frank, Art, or Tommy, guys I have come to be friends with who run three different places. I like them...Lunch is now a social part of my day, and I feel like I work in a real neighborhood, which it really isn't. I love being a regular. I love purposefully limiting my choices instead of expanding them...I don't ever hate lunch anymore. I consider lunch one of my greatest triumphs."

-From Why We Hate Us by Dick Meyer. Crown Publishers, 2008.