Psalm 146 speaks of a God who cares for the hungry, the oppressed, the fatherless, the widow, and the alien. For some reason, the widows and orphans have always gotten more attention in my mind, but over the past week I have come to understand all too well why the foreigner belongs in this group of people to be pitied. When you move to a place with a different culture than your own, where people do things differently than you do and speak a language you don’t understand, just about everything is harder. It seems like any task takes five times as long to complete as it would at home. But it’s great what a sense of accomplishment I feel when I finally figure something out. Small victories this week include learning how to unlock my door (actually an outer and inner door, three different keys, special jiggle;) learning how to direct a rickshaw from my apartment to the office and back; learning how to turn on hot water (NOT as easy as it sounds) and washing a full load of very sweaty clothes by hand. By next week I hope to learn how to find someone who I can pay to do this for me. Sometimes learning these things is exciting and sometimes it’s incredibly draining, but I can sense God’s hand taking care of me all the time. My landlord and people from work have been very helpful, and I can see already how God is using these experiences to shape my character. All the waiting and depending on others forces you to have patience and humility. And learning about God’s concern for the alien not only makes me understand his heart more, but gives me a much greater compassion for the immigrants in my own country.
The pictures below are just to give you a glimpse of what life looks like here. (1) my apartment building (2) apartment inside (& roomate!) (3) a rickshaw (4) the coastline (5) some kids hanging around the beach. (Later we gave them Silly Bandz, which they loved – thanks Donna!)
