Tag: cross-cultural

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Taste Sampler

Puzzling or Amusing, which is it? Both perhaps. . .

Cross-cultural workers meet up with any number of puzzlements, leaving one off balance enough to keep the journey intriguing.

The slight-of-body PhD scholar smiled sheepishly as he related a kind of tug-of-war he was in with their nine-year-old daughter.

“Jerry, you know that Bible for children, the one with many pictures that you gave us?”

Noting my nod, Mr. Tang went on. . .

“Well, my daughter and I, we fight over it. She finds the book very interesting, and so do I! So, when she is reading it, I want to read it, and also the other way around.”

For those like me, not raised in a society where the world’s most popular (international best-seller-book ever) is virtually a banned product, the reaction is astonishment.

It is remarkable really. How could a brilliant scholar with multiple degrees to his name find such a widespread piece of famous literature nearly inaccessible?

The entrance of your word gives light*

At Mr. Tang’s tug-of-war description, I couldn’t help smile. The mental image of a distinguished petroleum engineer husband and father pitted in a feisty back-and-forth with his fourth-grade daughter over the Holy Bible. Amusing to be sure. Yet, moments later the weightier, more sobering implication settled in.

Here is nine-year-old Angie, brought by her warm-hearted and, yes, atheist parents to the Land of the Free.

Angie (perhaps from simple curiosity at this point) yearns to take in the stories of God and Jesus. This, while her mother and father – grappling with the thousand adjustments called for in adapting to a new land and culture – carry their own yearnings. Daddy himself nurtures an appetite of some kind or other sufficient to sneak in bits of Bible reading during moments when his daughter isn’t on guard.

Can this household – others as well – be gently introduced to further samplings of the life-giving Word? Lead us, Father.

©2024 Jerry Lout                                                                             *Psalm 119:130

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Anchoring In

“The two of us were hippies during the sixties, but not so much of the drug and partying kind, although we did get into that as well. . .”

My new acquaintance Jim was – between his sips of hot tea – offering me a glimpse into his and his wife’s former pilgrimage.

“Ilah and I were really in our hearts on a quest, but for just what we didn’t know. Experimenting with eastern religions, delving into philosophy and the like. Looking back now, it’s clear we thirsted for meaning. We wanted to know what was real. We were sincere in our seeking.”

The conversation marked the beginning, for Ann and me, a long friendship with Jim and Ilah Garton.

As our visits increased, Jim and I recognized a thread of shared interest – the nurturing of cross-cultural friendships within the world of academia. For the Gartons, the interest had evolved through their growing closeness with Christ.

Once their longtime yearnings for meaning got met by a newfound faith, they immersed themselves in a grounded Christian community.

With university training behind them and the birth of son Joshua, Jim and Ilah set their sights on the land of China.  After some years teaching English as a second language, they returned to their American homeland where Jim then specialized in work serving non-profits. It was then that  the Garton-and-Lout pathways crossed.

“Coincidences are God’s way of remaining anonymous”. Albert Einstein may have been onto something when he uttered the terse remark.

Those who have ever ventured into an authentic faith journey ‘by the seat of the pants’ can readily attest, there is no adventure just quite like it.

With the aid of Jim’s astute strategizing mind and our combined boatload of prayers, we witnessed the birth of a Tulsa-based ministry – a 501©3 Non-profit – crowning it,  International Community Outreach.

In time, with plenty of tweaks and rewrites, we hammered out I.C.O.’s Mission Statement. This declared aim to which we felt the Lord calling us grew to characterize the work for years to come.

International Community Outreach exists to glorify God by meeting practical and spiritual needs of international students through acts of service and through the proclamation of the gospel of Christ.

Still, we knew little of what we were doing. The praying continued.

©2024 Jerry Lout

 

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In Other Words

For the college student suddenly thrust into the streams of an unfamiliar location and culture, it can feel like a whitewater rafter battling turbulence along a Category Five canyon. Sympathetic voices of those who have traversed such currents ahead of them can prove priceless. In the language of Clinical Psychologist Wilson Van Dusen, “Perhaps the most important skill that should be taught to all persons is the capacity to really see, hear, and understand others.”

Such nerve-calming figures might arrive on the scene as volunteers who had previously served in missions service or other cross-cultural vocations. Indeed, lessons gleaned from such informal coaches can sometimes translate to things of life and death! How lucky was I as a twenties-something arrival to Africa, having locals on the ground orient me to new ways of thinking and acting within a different context. Navigating a car along a bustling corridor on the ‘wrong side’ of the road while, poised at a steering wheel affixed to the wrong side of the vehicle carries the potential of posing a risk! Contrasting roadway differences of the American and the British landscape give rise to humorous – and terrifying – tales.

The task of orienting our new international students did not just fall to American welcomers. To our real pleasure, a student or two from abroad – who had by now stacked up some cultural mileage in adapting to Tulsa life – sometimes showed up to lend aid.

“Remember this point. . .” The university upperclassman from Hong Kong paused a moment for emphasis as she served up nuggets of wisdom to a handful of new arrivals. . . “Keep it in mind, that words displayed on a sign along a sidewalk do not always mean what you might think”.

“When you see a sign along a city street announcing SUBWAY, please do not look for stairways leading you underground. No” (here she raised both arms toward an imaginary placard), “it is only a sandwich shop”.

© 2024 Jerry Lout

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New Normal

Funny how conditioning works – not that of the hair treatment variety.

A person flies off to another land and settles into the things of life and work. Some years later, having grown conditioned to her adoptive culture, the person returns to her homeland only to find life disorienting.

Depending on how deeply entrenched he has settled into that ‘other life’, the reentry and reorienting process for the returnee may leave him reeling. I’m clearly a misfit, he reasons.

Such a person  may feel more at ease in the company of the clerk tending to the nearby Asian or Latin-run convenience store than with many of his acquaintances of an earlier time.

It happened with me at the intersection of Sixth and Birmingham. Where aromas of Indian Curry and Chinese dumplings hung in the air.

ISI’s area director Jim Tracy had reached out, inviting me to accompany him on his rounds – connecting socially in informal friendship with international students hailing from lands abroad. Malaysia, Venezuela, China, the Middle East. . .

I fussed with upside-down feelings day by day as I routinely shadowed Jim, venturing along from one apartment dwelling to the next. Where we happily sipped hot chai offered up by our gracious, momentary hosts. (But wait. Aren’t we. . . us ‘Yanks’. . . meant to be hosting them?)

I grew mildly surprised sensing how the needle of my social barometer tilted in uncommon directions. Feeling less at home within my own mainstream American culture than with the young college students coming from places far, far away. I had hardly begun to know these ‘outsiders’ yet an easy kinship felt more in reach.

For a while this tug-of-war left me unsettled, musing over my ‘space’ and my identity (aren’t I the same red-blooded American fellow who merely relocated for a while those years back?).

In time I made peace with befuddling but pardonable reality. I had changed.

Change had happened on the inside of me. Living in Africa for a couple decades among people groups of varied customs and languages had ruined me – in the best kind of way. Components of my worldview had shifted, broadened. My preferences on many fronts had tweaked. In short, I had taken up a strange and intriguing and somewhat messy cross-cultural identity.

This new normal, it’s going to need some time.

©2023 Jerry Lout