October 21, 2012 (Sam)
I’m not sure where the idiom “sticking out like a sore thumb” came from, but if sore thumbs stick out in out in a particular way, our existence here could be compared to a sore thumb amongst a collection of, um... otherwise healthy thumbs.
I’ll be direct about this: we are the only white people in the area we live in. At least we’re the only white people that we know about. Maybe there are others hiding somewhere. And it’s strange, not just in the sense that we’re constantly surrounded by people who don’t look like us, but also in the sense that they’re not used to seeing people like us. We’re a strange sight to the locals here, almost something to be gawked at. It’s innocent and cute coming from children: they stare at us, whisper “mzungu” (literally interpreted as foreigner; culturally interpreted as white person), chase us down and grab our hands, and even, in some cases, try to rub the whiteness off our skin. In other cases it’s not so cute. A popular assumption here is that all white people are rich. This has led to a lot of uncomfortable situations where we are surrounded by people insisting that we give them money. Other times, people will simply laugh and point at us, hurl insults at us from far off, grab us by the arms as we walk past, or just insist on trying to rip us off.
One of the things I hear whispered, muttered or shouted wherever we go is the name, “Yesu,” or Jesus. I guess because of seeing too many bad storybook depictions of Jesus, people think that I look like him. I’m not even Jewish. Last week, while shopping in a street market, I had an old man come up, grab me by the hand, and ask me to heal him. And understand, this kind of “attention” is a constant reality for us here.
To be honest, all this leads me to lose my patience sometimes. I’ve learned to ignore people’s yells, rebuff their pleas, and push away begging hands that are sometimes literally shoved in our faces. The other day, a man stepped in front of me, started rambling incoherently, and refused to move out of the way; so, finally, I pushed him aside. This was justified, right? After all, I have a right not to be harassed, don’t I?
Do you remember those “WWJD” bracelets that used to be popular? Well that question is not hypothetical. We actually have an example to follow in Jesus. He endured the same kind of treatment, and worse, everywhere he went. You want to talk crowds? He had one following him almost constantly, sometimes numbering in the thousands, often they were right up in his face too. Apparently, Jesus didn’t have a “personal bubble.” How about harassment? From what I read about his time here on earth, Jesus constantly had people jumping in front of him (Mark 10:17), getting in his space (Mark 5:24), asking him for favors (Matthew 20:20), inconveniencing him (Mark 5:30), and taking advantage of him (John 6:26). But yet, we get a small insight into his attitude towards these obnoxious people in Matthew 9:36, “When he saw the crowds, he had compassion on them...” *Gulp*. If that’s not a slap in my face I don’t know what is.
Being here has been a big adjustment for us. We’re in a new culture, experiencing new challenges. But this has also been a great growing experience. Learning how to move in a space where we are complete foreigners has taught us a lot about patience, gentleness, and love. God is adjusting our attitudes towards hurting people. There are growing pains, but we appreciate the journey.
By the way, we’ve starting to keep track of how many times each day people call me Jesus. The count today is four. And we only went left the compound once!
“To this (suffering for doing good) you were called, because Christ suffered for you, leaving you an example, that you should follow in his steps. ‘He committed no sin, and no deceit was found in his mouth.’ When they hurled their insults at him, he did not retaliate; when he suffered, he made no threats. Instead, he entrusted himself to him who judges justly.” (1 Peter 2:21-23)
No comments:
Post a Comment