Culture Shock 101

I wish I could experience life through Waverly's eyes.

6 countries, 4 time zones, 2 continents, 1 month. She'll be 3 in March.

Never before has she been around so many people with much darker skin that don't speak a lick of English, her only language. Never before have so many children wanted her attention. I just can't process what she is going through.

We went to church yesterday here in Burkina Faso. It was a 2 1/2 hour service but we had the freedom to step outside without feeling judged for interrupting the service. I packed a pb&j and an apple, plus a few books, and a coloring book and markers to keep Waverly busy during service, not knowing what to expect.

Mistake #1: don't tell your child you have a snack. She wanted her sandwich right off, but my plan was to save it until the end of the service which would be over about 1:00. I managed to hold her off for a bit, but caved because she was having a meltdown. Oh, and all of the kids are already staring at the 'nasara' (foreigner), then she's eating a sandwich in front of them. 'Sorry you all will just eat rice for lunch, maybe nothing, while my daughter chows on a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for snack. Oh, you don't even know what peanut butter is? Well, it's delicious. See how she enjoys it so much? We're from America, can you tell?' Ugh. I felt terrible.

Mistake #2: don't tell your child she can have some Fanta for lunch if she shakes hands with everybody who wants to shake her hand. We learned a very important cultural lesson when we stepped on the church grounds: everyone will shake everyone's hands, even children, especially white children. I mean, we couldn't blame Waverly for not wanting to shake anybody's hand; that was so overwhelming for her, but how can we explain that to the people? Our translator called her out too, "you are not a very kind girl." He didn't mean harm by that statement, he was just acknowledging that she wasn't being culturally appropriate. So, we told her she could have some Fanta at lunch if she shook hands. Wanna know what she talked about for the next, oh, 2 1/2 hours? "I want Fanta." "No, you can have it at lunch." Super meltdown. Hear me: SUPER MELTDOWN.

Mistake #3: don't compare your child to the other national children. Waverly pretty much melted down the entire service, so she and I spent most of it outside in the courtyard. I was mortified by her behavior. Nothing I did was going to pacify her, nothing I could say, nothing. I kept looking at the kids around us who, none of them, cried about anything. Then I remembered that this was normal for these kids. This was all they had ever known, my child was in major culture shock and I just wasn't sensitive to realizing that.

Mistake #4: don't forget the toilet paper. Just don't. I did and when she had to use the potty, she peed in a hole in the ground and I didn't have anything to clean her with. Thankfully, she was wearing more absorbent panties. Thankfully, she did nothing more than "number 1".

To say that our church experience (not our first, though) was horrible is an understatement. But I learned a lot and it opened my heart to being more sensitive to what Waverly is experiencing right now. She processes culture shock in much the same way I do; unfortunately, through her attitude. Only for me, at almost 26, I can keep my frustration down until I am home in bed with no one around but Chandler. Her, at almost 3, isn't quite there yet.

This morning I was reminded of an answer I gave to a question asked in our extensive interview a year ago. Our interviewer asked to the affect of, 'why would you raise your kid in a third world country?' and I responded with, "Why wouldn't I want for my children to have that perspective on the world?" It's funny that the Lord reminded me of this today when just yesterday I was thinking, "How can we do this to her?" He keeps me accountable to the calling He placed on our lives individually AND as a family.

Please continue to pray for our sweet girl. Her whole world is so off kilter... No, maybe the better description is to say that her world is completely off its axis.

And now, for your viewing pleasure, Waverly's new trick: crossing her eyes.

Answered Prayers

Okay, I'll be honest, I've never TRULY believed in the total power of prayer. I just didn't understand it. I had never been sensitive enough toward the Holy Spirit's work through prayer... until now; until I have felt so desperate that I just cried out to Him in my heart and saw Him move in a way that only HE can receive the glory.

A few days ago, we packed up (again) for more training in west Africa. Just when Madagascar was beginning to feel like home, we transition yet again. Our first day of flight from Tana to Nairobi, Kenya was HORRIBLE. Waverly was HORRIBLE. I was HORRIBLE. And Chandler spent the day playing referee. There were so many factors playing into this day and I couldn't get a hold of myself; neither could Waverly.

That night, as we all lay in the same bed, I just cried. I felt like the worst mother, I felt like we couldn't control our child, and I really just didn't want to take another trip.

But I prayed. I prayed myself to sleep and heard the chorus from "I Need Thee Every Hour" over and over in my head.

The next morning, I woke up with a headache and Waverly woke up throwing a fit, so I got on Facebook and I sent an email to our families and I BEGGED for prayer. I knew we needed The Lord to work in a mighty way. And He did. We didn't just survive the day, we had a GREAT day. Waverly got a much needed nap on the plane which significantly improved my spirit. The icing on the cake: the row across from ours only had one person who sat next to the window, so Chandler sat in the aisle seat freeing up two whole seats for Waverly to stretch out. It.was.amazing. No screaming, very little crying, and the sleep (and peace!) that she so desperately needed.

He answered our prayers and provided more. God is so good.

And thank you to those who prayed very specifically for Waverly on that day. We are so blessed to have people who love us, support us, pray for us, and hold up our arms when we are spiritually, emotionally, and physically tired.

Two Weeks In..

Kelli's Perspective...

“Hey-lp!” is probably Waverly’s favorite thing to say. She heard it on an episode of Doc McStuffins. I think she asks for “hey-lp” just because she likes saying the word in that way. I, on the other hand, have cried “hey-lp!!” in my heart and I don’t say it for kicks.

This Africa stuff is hard. It may seem glamorous to go to Africa, and maybe it is when you visit, but when you have to survive and not just survive, but thrive, all that is admired about Africa is no more. Don’t get me wrong my spirit is at peace here because I know this is where the Lord wants us, but being in His will doesn’t mean it’s easy.

(As if I needed further proof of His calling on our life to be in Madagascar, the Malagasy root “kely” makes something little or small. For example, the word “manakely” means “to make something smaller”. Morgan, I figured you’d appreciate this the most.)

We’ve been gone just two weeks now and when I think of being here for four years before we head back to the States, my head spins and I may get a little nauseous. In just two weeks, I have taught myself to think only of the present time. Kind of like putting Matthew 6:34 into practice, not as a spiritual exercise necessarily, but as a practice of survival.

That’s my word: survive (survival, survived!, etc). That’s what we are doing: surviving and at the end of the day, we clap ourselves on the back because we survived! Extra claps on the back for the extra tough days. And we wake up each morning renewed and ready to face the day. That part, “the waking up renewed” part, is God’s grace because on the extra tough days, the carnal, human part of me would rather run away. But He restores my soul (Psalm 23:3a).

There have been more than a few times in the short time we’ve been here that my heart has cried out in pure anguish. I don’t feel “home”, I miss family so much it hurts, I miss the ease of my life back in the States, and sometimes, I just plain, don’t want to be here. Period. And in those times, my heart just aches and I can’t express in words what I want to say to Him, but I know He knows because He restores my soul every.single.day.

He gives me moments of joy throughout each day; like, when we greet a Malagasy in Malagasy instead of French like they may expect, and that person smiles at us, it lifts my spirit. And He gives me small victories; like cooking my first meal from scratch (spaghetti with apple crisp for dessert) and Chandler tells me that the spaghetti sauce was really good, then I feel like “I can do this”. And He gives me hope; like when we successfully complete an outing to the market, I realize that as I learn language, all outings will become easier.

All of this is going to take time. I know that. I know that there will be days that start out positive and we are blindsided by some sort of complication. But I also know that as time passes, we will learn how to take those complications as they come. We will learn this culture and language and my prayer is that these people will become our people. And that we will no longer survive each day but thrive where He has planted us.

 Chandler's Perspective...

There is a certain excitement and anticipation whenever you start out on a adventure into the great unknown.  With the anticipation and excitement comes an idealistic and distorted view of the world you are walking into.  That distorted view and idealism came as soon as we landed on the island: the people, the street-markets, the landscape, the world was all new and exciting and I could not wait to get this new life started.

            That idealism ended approximately 6 hours later when we closed our hotel room door and realized we were absolutely on our own, knowing none of the language to communicate and having no idea where we were in a city of millions.  As I laid in bed (awake from the jet-lag) I wondered to myself, “What have I gotten us into?”

            As the days have passed this question has continued to come up; however, the Lord has been good and faithful to answer it again and again.  “What have I gotten us into?” is answered through a great trip to the market, the smiles of the pousse-pousse drivers on our street, and the friendships made with Malagasy.  In short, I have led us where God has called us and this is a great comfort.  While this is a comfort to our spirits it does not necessarily make living life here any easier.

            Needless to say life is different now.  There are so many new challenges, so many new experiences, and a new normal to find but, I am confident that we will find that new normal and that we can and will thrive here.  It is going to take complete reliance on the Lord for everything.  So far I have only been able to realize this fact, not make it an everyday reality.        

            Not only do I have to rely on Him for provision and peace but also I have to rely on Him to give us a heart and love for this place.  We have known we were called to Madagascar for some time and specifically to the Antandroy people; however, really appreciating their culture and world is going to take some time and some serious love.  As I have been working through 1 Corinthians I have seen how truly essential love is.  It is “a still more excellent way” (1 Corinthians 12:31) as referred to by Paul.  This excellent way will not come from my best efforts.  This way can only come through the gifting of the Holy Spirit.  I cannot achieve it on my own but through supplication and prayer. 

            I am so excited to finally be here making a new way for our family.  We have experienced great highs and a few lows in our short time here so far.  We know that there are more to be experienced and much lies ahead; however, we rest (with anticipation) in the fact that the God who has called us here is aware of us and will grant us all things needed to make His name known!