Here’s something you never thought you’d hear an American say: I do not actually know that much. It’s no secret that we Americans in the international realm don’t have the greatest reputation for admitting when we need advice or help. Instead, we’re always like, hey, let me come fix your government, your way of life, and your opinions. Don’t worry world, America’s got this.

So how does American arrogance connect to plantains? Read on.

In college, I took several missions classes that taught me a lot about what it looks like to live overseas in a service capacity. A lot of Americans in my generation have sort of a Superman complex when it comes to expat life– we went on a mission trip with our youth group, built an orphanage, and were inspired to go save the world. There is certainly an element of wonderful altruism to this attitude, but it’s missing something: humility.

The most practical class I took in undergrad was called Missions: Aspects and Relationships. The best thing I learned from this class is that in a cross-cultural situation, you shouldn’t come in armed with all the answers. You come in as a learner, asking questions and building trust. You want to convince someone in a African bush that Western remedies can save their kids from malaria? Cool. Start with hanging with them and finding out their way of life, their challenges, and their own solutions. Once they know that you care about who they are culturally and personally, once they see that you respect them, then they are more than willing to listen to what you have to say. Because who wants to take instruction from a random outsider who disrespects you? Plus, you’ll probably end up learning some pretty cool things from people in the process. On a less exotic, more ordinary mentoring level, just finding out about a person and respecting their skills is imperative before you can start offering free advice.

Ok, we’re getting to the plantain part soon, I promise.

Living on the island of Saint Martin, I haven’t really been in the position of doing developmental work or helping with anything like that, other than general things like tutoring kids in reading. Still, I’ve found the “come as a learner” principle to be super helpful even in everyday expat sorts of situations. Like if I’m going to teach a kid from the Dominican Republic how to speak English, I’m going to ask him how to teach me Spanish at the same time. I’ve found the role-reversal to be a helpful confidence booster when it comes to language skills.

So here come the plantains.

R, a teen who we mentor, spends a lot of time at our house, so naturally I do everything I can to make him comfortable and at home. My mom is really good at making people comfortable, and the way she does it is by offering a place to relax while she makes iced tea, cooks a dinner everyone likes, and serves in whatever capacity she can think of. People really appreciate it. Naturally, this is what I try to do, too. I pour glasses of water, I make the dinner, I clean up, I offer dessert (if I remembered to go shopping and get it), I do R’s laundry, even if it’s only a t-shirt, just to offer whatever love and care I can.

Now, if you’ve read the The Five Love Languages book, you’ll be familiar with the idea that everyone is inclined to love in one or two ways of the following: words of affirmation, acts of service, physical touch, quality time, and gifts. To really communicate love, it’s good to show you care on the other person’s terms, and not just your own.

My love language is acts of service. That’s how I communicate love. The more weeks that went by, the more I realized that R’s love language is not acts of service. I could tell he felt a little funny about chilling while I banged around in the kitchen. I thought maybe I’d try offering to teach him to cook, but it turns out he already knows how to do that. This is when I remembered the principle of being a learner.

This is the part about the plantains.

I found out that R knows how to cook plantains and fried chicken, and I do not. Rather than be the grown-up who knows everything and takes care of everybody, it was time for me to put on my learning hat and ask for help. And do you know what? It worked out well.

I stopped at the roadside fruit vendor on my way home the next day and picked up some plantains. A few hours later, we had a fabulous dinner that everyone had contributed to. Matt, Ben, and R brought home the fish they caught. I prepared the fish and veggies, and Ben created an African fish sauce. Ray taught me how to cook plantains and made rice. Tati helped clean up made us feel like we had some seriously mad cooking skills. Everybody was happy, and we had a lot of fun in the process.

I learned a few things from making dinner with R: First, I learned how to fry plantains, which is awesome because I only knew how to make plantain chips before, and they’re totally not the same thing. I also learned that in our case, an invitation to help out (quality time) and a “Good job, this tastes great!” (words of affirmation) can be more valuable than acts of service. Finally, I learned that mentoring is not just about giving of myself in the role of an authority figure. It’s also about being willing to step into the role of a learner and show that my mentee’s skills and knowledge are valuable. The process of building a mentoring relationship is a journey, and one that is full of wonderful surprises.

By the way, are you as clueless about plantains as I was? Stay tuned for a recipe post on how to make Caribbean-style plantains and Tanzanian-style fish! Subscribe or like the 3rd Culture Wife Facebook page so that you don’t miss it.