thoughts on being back on U.S. soil...
This week, Keith and I have the privilege of being at the SGM Pastor's Conference in Orlando. It felt as though we left Nassau in a hurry, always second-guessing whether we'd forgotten something important. I didn't think much about what it might be like to be back in the U.S.A.
As soon as we stepped into the U.S. Customs room at the Nassau airport, our pastor smiled and said, "You're really already back in the U.S. by being in here, you know." To some degree, we could even feel the reality of that. White U.S. Customs agents, with their various regional accents, could be heard talking to each traveler as they stopped to declare what they were taking with them. Did it feel like home? Hmmm... I'm still out to lunch on that one.
As we landed in Orlando and walked through the airport, with many international people surrounding us, it still didn't feel like THAT much of a change. But then, we traveled by car to our hotel. That's when the reality of the U.S. began to set in. I began seeing very few people of color. Beyond the few pastors and wives that are here at the conference who are hispanic or african-american, it is basically a white environment. This is unsettling. I've just spent the last five months or so in a predominately black country and culture. I've learned to feel small in the world. I've learned to do without. I've been learning to prefer their homeland customs to my own internally "born and bred in the USA" ones. But now I'm out of it for a few days. Back in what should be "my comfort zone." But it's not comforting. It's like my whole way of thinking has been turned on its head. Who am I? My conference name tag says, "Kristin Bunting -- Nassau, The Bahamas."
Walking into Wal-Mart, my eyes have to adjust to the sheer bounty of the store: the high-quality looking fruits and veggies stacked in their orderly sections. Wide aisles with few people shopping. Four walls that stretch out seemingly for miles. Then I see the prices and I gasp...$2.98 for a large bag of Tostitos? That same bag would cost me $5.79 in Nassau. Bananas are 54 cents a pound! Where I live, even though you could grow them in your yard, bananas are 99 cents a pound. A large container of coffee is $8.99 at Wal-Mart, while I must dole out $15.99 for the same coffee back home. My husband warns me not to get sad at the price differences. "It won't do any good," he says. "Check your heart." He knows the penny-pincher I am and how quickly I can feel defeated by the almost complete inability to "outsmart the system" back in Nassau. For awhile I enjoy picking out some candy, laundry detergent and cleaning wipes at prices half below what I'd pay in Nassau. My money goes soooo much further here. But this is not my reality for long. On Saturday, we will board the plane and fly back to the most expensive place I've ever lived.
But I won't shed tears about the money. There is something price-less about our home in Nassau. I can never put a value on the experience of living in a third-world, predominately black country. My children are happy there. Our church is small but vibrant. I have seen the Lord being praised among the nations. I am allowed to participate in the great gospel commission to go into all the world. And it is all of God's kindness to allow me this. There is no sadness in it. Only Hope. And Joy. And Peace.
As soon as we stepped into the U.S. Customs room at the Nassau airport, our pastor smiled and said, "You're really already back in the U.S. by being in here, you know." To some degree, we could even feel the reality of that. White U.S. Customs agents, with their various regional accents, could be heard talking to each traveler as they stopped to declare what they were taking with them. Did it feel like home? Hmmm... I'm still out to lunch on that one.
As we landed in Orlando and walked through the airport, with many international people surrounding us, it still didn't feel like THAT much of a change. But then, we traveled by car to our hotel. That's when the reality of the U.S. began to set in. I began seeing very few people of color. Beyond the few pastors and wives that are here at the conference who are hispanic or african-american, it is basically a white environment. This is unsettling. I've just spent the last five months or so in a predominately black country and culture. I've learned to feel small in the world. I've learned to do without. I've been learning to prefer their homeland customs to my own internally "born and bred in the USA" ones. But now I'm out of it for a few days. Back in what should be "my comfort zone." But it's not comforting. It's like my whole way of thinking has been turned on its head. Who am I? My conference name tag says, "Kristin Bunting -- Nassau, The Bahamas."
Walking into Wal-Mart, my eyes have to adjust to the sheer bounty of the store: the high-quality looking fruits and veggies stacked in their orderly sections. Wide aisles with few people shopping. Four walls that stretch out seemingly for miles. Then I see the prices and I gasp...$2.98 for a large bag of Tostitos? That same bag would cost me $5.79 in Nassau. Bananas are 54 cents a pound! Where I live, even though you could grow them in your yard, bananas are 99 cents a pound. A large container of coffee is $8.99 at Wal-Mart, while I must dole out $15.99 for the same coffee back home. My husband warns me not to get sad at the price differences. "It won't do any good," he says. "Check your heart." He knows the penny-pincher I am and how quickly I can feel defeated by the almost complete inability to "outsmart the system" back in Nassau. For awhile I enjoy picking out some candy, laundry detergent and cleaning wipes at prices half below what I'd pay in Nassau. My money goes soooo much further here. But this is not my reality for long. On Saturday, we will board the plane and fly back to the most expensive place I've ever lived.
But I won't shed tears about the money. There is something price-less about our home in Nassau. I can never put a value on the experience of living in a third-world, predominately black country. My children are happy there. Our church is small but vibrant. I have seen the Lord being praised among the nations. I am allowed to participate in the great gospel commission to go into all the world. And it is all of God's kindness to allow me this. There is no sadness in it. Only Hope. And Joy. And Peace.
This makes me want to visit all the more! When can I come? :)
ReplyDeleteLissie,
ReplyDeleteYou can come today! Whenever you're ready and able. If you wanted to come for Thanksgiving...we'd love it. Nobody is scheduled to come anytime soon. We'd love a visitor!