Category Archives: Guest Posts

10 Things I Learned About Cultural Transition: Part 1

 

Moving overseas is a difficult experience. But it doesn’t have to be horrible. Last year, my friend Emily Montgomery moved from the United States to the Arab world. Along the way, she has learned a lot about herself, God, and the world. Here is her advice to you.

  1. Brace yourself.

Put into words what you imagine about the new culture. Be specific! Write the story of your life in this new place. Where do you see yourself living? What will your work be like? Who will be your friends? What will you struggle with most?

Now go one step below the surface to identify your expectations. For example, as I imagined life overseas before I moved, I foresaw lots of busyness and little time to rest.

Expectation: My life will be as full and varied as it was at home.

Reality: The pace of life in the new culture, the size of my social group, and my role at work was entirely different than in my home culture. This was a missed expectation!

If you’re a starry-eyed optimist like me, take a careful look at what is going on in your imagination. It’s not wrong to hope for amazing things—be excited about the possibilities! But, don’t set yourself up for disappointment by going into a cultural transition blind to what you’re really expecting.

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  1. You’re not dying.

Before I moved, I asked for advice from anyone who had lived overseas before. Several times I was told, “It’s like you die and are reborn into the new culture. Grieve that death and let go of who you used to be.”

I’m sure they meant well, but that advice was detrimental for my transition.

Instead of being excited and grateful about the biggest adventure of my life, I was mourning. I cried every day in the weeks before I moved. When I finally got to my new home overseas, I was not happy to be there. I was emotionally wrung out!

Looking back, I’d tell my pre-expat self to expect a lot of change. Relationships look different long-distance, I took on new roles, even my personality shifted.

But, my old self isn’t dead. In my overseas home, I’ve discovered new sides of who I’ve always been that are only visible in this context. What a gift!

Who you are does not change because of where you live. You’re not dying—you’re growing.

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  1. Tell the true story.

At the darkest point of my transition, everyone told me how normal it is to struggle. At the time, that didn’t make me feel much better.

What did help was when a friend, listening to my meltdown, asked, “What’s actually happening here?”

That stopped me in my tracks.

It forced me to look at the reality of the situation instead of just repeating the dramatic story I had been telling myself. When I looked closely, I could identify core issues and spot areas of spiritual warfare. I was empowered to fight back.

When you’re in the thick of transition, emotions are heightened. The highs are exuberating and the lows are debilitating. Find friends who will listen well, but then ask you to tell the true story.

Hint: If you hear yourself using generalizations, you might be telling a version of reality that’s clouded with a lot of amped-up emotions. Take a deep breath and rephrase it.

“Men here never treat me with respect” becomes “In this culture, men don’t show women respect in ways that are familiar to me”. This reveals a major area of cultural tension that you can explore. When do you feel respected? Ask a local girlfriend the same question. You’ll probably find that in reality, just your perspective needs to change.

  1. Don’t listen to doubts.

I questioned my decision to move overseas at least once a day during my first season of culture shock. I was sure I had misheard God’s instructions, acted impulsively, or simply needed to “get it out of my system” and I should go home now.

I heard a quote somewhere that became my mantra for the battles against doubts. “Never question in the dark what was shown to you in the light.”

God invited me into a different culture after a specific time of seeking direction. The decision was confirmed and supported by my spiritual leaders. I had completed trainings and preparation courses. All of that happened in the “light” before the transition.

It wasn’t until I fully resigned myself to being overseas for the full length of my assignment that I found peace. I stopped imagining what would happen if I gave up and moved home. My heart finally settled into making the best of what I had.

If you’ve committed to being overseas for a specific length of time, just assume that is still what God is asking you to do, even when it gets hard. Don’t consider doing anything else. If God wants you to break your commitment early, he is capable of getting your attention to tell you.

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  1. Get in your zone.

I define a comfort zone as a situation where I know what is expected and I am capable of succeeding. In my own culture, I subconsciously orchestrated my interactions so I spent most of my time in my comfort zone.

That handy little ability is not possible when you enter an unknown cultural context.

Right after I moved, I had an identity crisis that lasted several months. Because I was not operating from within my comfort zone, I wasn’t acting like myself.

I was often surprised by my responses. Experiences that used to excite me no longer did. The limits of what I could handle in certain situations were different than they had been in my own culture. It was so disorienting.

And then I started to develop a comfort zone in my new context.

As things became more familiar and I learned the cultural norms around me, some of my old traits began to reemerge. My confidence started to reappear slowly.

There will always be some parts of your comfort zone that cannot translate to the new culture. So, parts of your personality will only come out when you visit home. But, there are also new layers to yourself that you never saw before, that only exist in the new context.

Be brave and engage the new culture. It will be uncomfortable at first, but remember that you are expanding the zone where you can truly be yourself. It’s worth it!

Keep Reading: Click Here for Part 2

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Airplanes and Missions

Airplanes, expats, and the missionary life! Kaitlyn Stewart, the author of today’s guest post, grew up in Senegal, a nation in West Africa. I met her during our college years in Arizona. This summer, she is embarking on a long-term missionary journey of her own to Mali. 

I sat in the back of the airplane, my ears silenced by the foam squish of the airplane headset. My heart sped up with the deep whir of the propeller, thumping slightly as the wheels bounced over the lumpy concrete. As the wind rushed heavy over the wings and lifted the aircraft high into the Arizona air, my heart lifted, thrown into an excited tempo by the soaring plane. Faster than it seemed possible, the Kodiak left the earth and sped up and away over the dry landscape. Glancing out the window, my view shifted and I imagined the green leaves of lush jungles and the beautiful mountains this plane would soon see. And my heart took flight again, enchanted with the future the Kodiak would see among the rainforests of Papua New Guinea.

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These airplanes have been an answer to prayer. With more room both for passengers and luggage, they can travel faster and cover longer distances than other small aircraft. They also use less expensive fuel, making them more cost efficient as well. If needed, these planes can carry a stretcher, turning them into makeshift ambulances. Overall, these planes have been an incredible asset, making it easier to transport supplies and people to the farthest unreached places and people of the world.

Airplanes have always played a significant role in my life. I grew up around them, stepping on an airplane for the first time at four years old, and was always near, in, or around one. To me, the airplane became a way to connect with missionaries that I knew in the villages of Senegal, a way to bring supplies, pets, medicine, and technology to those working to spread the gospel of Christ. I loved the chance to experience the joy of flying and being a part of the missionary work.

Inside a plane

It doesn’t always take an airplane ride for someone to be able to share the good news of Jesus Christ with those around them. It can take a simple step outside their front door, a short walk to a neighbor, a car ride to a country that needs help. But for those places that are inaccessible, the airplane provides that opportunity that may not have been otherwise possible. With these new planes, mission work can be redefined, and the gospel of Christ brought to those who may have never before had the chance to hear about the saving grace of Jesus Christ.

Consider the roles these airplanes will have in the years to come. Transporting people, bringing supplies to remote locations, ferrying those who are sick or injured to medical facilities, and most importantly, carrying the good news of Jesus Christ to the lost places of the world.

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Consider your own role. Just as the airplane is a thread in the tapestry of God’s overarching sovereign plan for saving this world, so are you. He has equipped you to be a vessel that carries important news to the far reaches of earth- that Christ can forgive sins and pull individuals from the chains of brokenness and death into light and redeeming love. Through the power of Christ, you have the ability to bring healing to a broken world. You have the ability to soar on the wings of eagles and impact this world for Jesus Christ.

As the wheels touched down again on the concrete of the small Arizona airstrip, my mind envisioned a crowd of excited villagers and smiling missionaries crowding around the door to get a glimpse of the plane that would change the course of history in the jungles of PNG. And suddenly, it didn’t matter where I was now, I wanted to someday be a part of a team that worked to bring that good news to those people. We are called to take the good news of Christ to the far reaches of the earth, and with one small airplane ride, my desire to proclaim the name of Jesus to the lost nations flew as high as the planes soaring overhead. The magnificent plane stands ready to do its part in helping save this world- will you join us?

 

airplanes and missions

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Waterfalls and Elephants: A Thai Adventure

Meet my friend Marie! Marie and I went to college together in Arizona. She currently lives in Asia, where her husband is stationed with the military. She has gathered many stories during her global travels, and I asked her to share one with us!
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My friend, her husband, and I had been in Thailand, specifically Bangkok, two days and we decided to sign up for a tour to visit the Erawan National Park and the close by Elephant Sanctuary. Our earlier adventures had all been in the exciting city of Bangkok. We had seen the Jade Buddha,  national temples and palaces, the Giant Buddha, and many sights on-board exciting public transportation. However, time had come to see a little more outside the city.
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The morning of, we woke early and met up with our van driver outside the hostel we were staying at on Kao San Road. For three hours we made our way outside the city, only stopping briefly to use a squatty potty and grab a meat filled biscuit for breakfast while the van was filled with gas. Through the beautiful jungle and up the winding roads we finally made it to the Erawan National Park where seven gorgeous waterfalls awaited us.
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We made our way up the path to the first waterfall, along the way seeing wild pigs and hearing multiple languages from the many tourists on their way to the waterfalls. The heat and humidity required the constant consumption of water on our brief hike, but finally we made it to the first waterfall. The beautiful turquoise water gushed over the huge rocks and small naked children swam through the water with the many fish. The fish were the same kind of fish that many spas use to eat the dead skin off of feet.
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Further, we made it to a less crowded waterfall and pool where we waded and swam through the cool and refreshing water to the rocks under the waterfalls, getting our toes tickled by the many fish. Under the falls we looked through the curtain of water and viewed God’s beautiful nature. After a little bit of time and three more waterfalls, we had to say good bye to the falls and made our way down towards the van for an authentic Thai lunch and then on to the Elephant Sanctuary.
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An hour later in the van, we pulled into a park by a river surrounded by jungle. Immediately we were greeted and lead down to the shore by the river. Two massive elephants emerged from the jungle and waded into the river, each atopped by a native Thai man yelling commands.
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Three at a time, we made our way out to the first elephant and climbed onto his back. The elephant was then coaxed to spray his back with water, completely soaking us. His bristly back helped us to stay on as he moved and the river current sped on by. After a few minutes, the Thai man gave out a command and the elephant bent his front legs and threw us forward into the river. After belly flopping and trying not to be taken down river, we made it to shore where we went up to platform to ride the elephants. We climbed aboard an enormous and very friendly elephant. The trip was absolutely fantastic as we made our way through the jungle scenery. We were absolutely terrified when the elephant would climb up and down steep stairs!
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When the elephant ride was completed we climbed back into the van yet again for the long ride back to Bangkok. That day was filled with awesome new experiences. From there on we gained many other new exciting experiences as we entered Cambodia and visited Siem Reap, Angkor Wat, and Sihanoukville. After Cambodia we made our way to Southern Vietnam and saw the Mekong Delta, Can Tho, and the Floating Market. At long last we headed back to our homes in South Korea.
Life is surely an adventure.

Kenyan at Heart

Today’s blog post is a special guest post from Gabriela, a Third Culture Kid living in Kenya. Enjoy– and don’t forget to like and share!

Having lived in four different states (having traveled to most of the fifty of them), been in six different countries (not counting airports), and lived on two different continents in my 17 years of life, I don’t have a culture to call my own. This is what makes a third culture kid (TCK) different: we make our own culture. I might have a name that is in English, Gabriela Reincheld, but that doesn’t necessarily mean I’m totally American. As a TCK, I take parts of different cultures and shape them into my own worldview. At the moment, I’m a senior in high school at a Christian boarding school called Rift Valley Academy in Kenya. My parents are missionaries and teach here. I love it. This school is so awesome because all of the kids here are TCKs, like me. For a while, my parents were dorm parents for ninth and tenth grade boys where Ben Johnson was one of my dorm brothers. It was awesome having twenty older brothers and my one younger sister. Over the years, I have learned so much through living in Kenya, while having more of a Western mindset.

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In March, I had the privilege of going on a cultural trip for school to a place off the coast of Kenya called Chale Island, where I would be studying Reef Ecology for one week. With a total of about 30 high schoolers and six adults, we had been traveling for nine hours by bus…you can imagine how that was. On our way to Chale, we were winding down a dusty narrow road surrounded by a vast forest. We came across an incident where a semi-truck was tipped over and we had to help flip it back over in order to keep going. The long drive from central Kenya to the coast usually takes about 9 hours, but for us it was 12. You never know what awaits you on these adventures…this is Africa. Although it was a long and tiring trip, it was worth it.

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We spent the next week in paradise. One thing that interested me was how pollution is destroying the environment and the natural habitats in the ocean. We got to have hands on experience by picking up 1516 kg of plastic on a 200 meter stretch of a deserted beach. Also, we learned about the different types of sea-life in the Indian Ocean and discussed how we can see God working in this environment. It was amazing to see how a tiny brown jellyfish can make a group of students laugh through their snorkels while tapping its top.

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Lastly, I must brag and say living in Kenya has its perks. Although we often have droughts and there are still internally displaced people (IDP) from the 2008 election, there is still beauty and joy found in this country. The people with less materialistic values are the ones you can see the most joy in. Whenever I visit orphanages and the IDP camps, I never cease to be amazed at their joy. God is continuing to work here and it’s awesome how he reveals his majesty.

If you would like to keep up with different events going on in my life as a TCK, come visit my blog: scarfedpassenger.wordpress.com

Image credits Gabriela Reincheld and Brian Wagner

Ben’s Pen: The Kind of Doctor I Want to Be and Why

Here’s a special post written by my husband, Ben. This is his story.

Growing up in Africa

A single set of car headlights could be seen bobbing up and down on a remote dirt road at midnight. Our jeep jolted over every bump as it raced through the night. My parents were driving me to Heri Adventist Hospital in remote Tanzania. I had appendicitis and needed immediate attention. My only hope was a surgeon named Dr. Alvin Rocero, the only person within hundreds of miles that could perform such a surgery. The journey was not a comfortable one, and each bump caused a sharp pain in my lower abdomen.

After several hours, we arrived and Dr. Rocero was there to meet us. We were so grateful that he and his team were willing to receive us so late at night. The staff performed the necessary blood tests and confirmed that I had an elevated white blood cell count. I remember being wheeled into the operating room and after the anesthetic, blackness.

After surgery in a remote hospital


   I awoke the next morning, blurry eyed and confused, but grateful to be alive. The appendectomy had been successful. A four inch incision, complete with stitches, marked the lower right side of my abdomen, since the materials for a laparoscopic appendectomy were not available in rural Tanzania. As I lay there in the hospital, I watched the medical staff come and go. I saw the incredible needs that they met with limited personnel and equipment. I saw the love with which they served people they did not even know, treating each patient with the utmost care.

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One of the nurses at Heri Adventist Hospital

Five months later, I injured my knee while playing rugby at my boarding school in Kijabe, Kenya. I underwent a successful arthroscopic surgery at Kijabe Mission Hospital. Unfortunately, thirty minutes after the operation, I began to get a severe headache. The pain escalated until it was unbearable. I do not remember what happened after that, but the hospital staff said that my fever spiked and I slipped into a coma. My condition worsened by the minute, and the doctors thought that I was going to die. They called my parents, telling them to get on the next flight from Tanzania to Kenya because they did not think that I was going to survive. However, they performed a spinal tap and discovered that my cerebral spinal fluid was a milky color. Doctor Myrick immediately suspected meningitis and started me on intravenous antibiotics. His quick decision saved my life. Thirty minutes after they administered the antibiotics, I snapped out of the coma and began to recover.

Playing rugby for Rift Valley Academy
Playing rugby for Rift Valley Academy

In the span of six months, I had endured much pain and suffering and almost died twice. It had not only affected me physically, but also mentally and emotionally. I realized how fragile life is and how quickly it can be lost. As I recovered in those mission hospitals, I had ample time to reflect on this and to observe the personnel who worked there. They had not only administered to me with loving care but also to everyone else. These people dealt with stressful situations every day. They were either paid too little or not at all. Many of them had sacrificed lucrative practices in the United States to come and voluntarily serve thousands of medically underprivileged people. Yet, they treated each patient with the dignity and respect that every human life deserves. Just because the services were free or at expense costs did not mean that they did the bare minimum. These people went above and beyond. They saw me. Not just whether I needed another antibiotic injection, or an IV bag, but they saw the trauma that I had gone through. They took compassion on me. They would talk to me to make sure that I was doing OK. They noticed when I was confused about something and clarified it until I understood. They exhibited the often-forgotten part of caring for people—to actually care about them. Many medical professionals can easily give a good first impression based on their physical appearance. However, all of that can be quickly forgotten if they are aloof, uncaring, and insensitive. People want to know that doctors care. They want to see it in tangible ways. It is a life-long journey of learning how to become a more compassionate and caring healthcare provider. I believe that is what separates the great doctors from the mediocre doctors.

Living through these experiences inspired me to become a doctor, a compassionate and caring doctor. I want to be a physician who can care for physical ailments and conditions, but also someone who can empathize with the hurt, the confusion, the pain, the stress, the unknown, the chaos, the unfair, and the loss that patients in hospitals experience every single day. There will be many tough cases that I will face daily. There will be many demands that are placed on me. People will be difficult. Patients will be ungrateful. Technology will become frustrating. Co-workers will not cooperate. Even though all of these things will happen, I will choose every single day to see the needs of people, not just their physical needs, but their emotional and spiritual needs as well. I want to comfort the person who is crying, to acknowledge the one who feels lonely, and to clarify when I see confusion in someone’s eyes. I want to be there when someone’s world is falling apart. Being a compassionate and caring doctor is a lifelong process. It is part of being a true professional; a professional who cares.

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