Just Go With It...

This is probably my leading mantra while I've been in Sabah.  It's even drawn a couple of jokes from some people since they know it's how I'll react to most situations.  But what can I say?  If there's nothing you really can do and you don't know how things are going to go, why not decide to go with the flow and approach situations with the most open mind set possible?  An example of this would be my crazy weekend.  Saturdays for me are a non-stop sprint of English lessons, choir rehearsals, and any other work that's on my plate.  So by the time I get to youth group on Saturday nights, I'm extremely tired.  That week, the youth decided to have a sleepover at the Theodora house.  Since all I wanted to do after youth was fall into bed, I wasn't up to hosting youth late into the night at the house.  But one of the leaders would be there as well.  So I told myself, just go with it.  Turns out that night was actually really great and I ended up being able to talk with the other youth leader about his plans for seminary and he shared how he was feeling about heading off on the path to becoming a pastor. 

I get up the next morning for Sunday worship and we have English afterwards.  This is one of my less formal classes since it's based on having discussion.  The youth come to class with questions about English phrases and what to say in different situations.  In turn, I can ask them about how to say things in Malay.  It's actually a great way to work together and learn purely based on everyone's interests.  It's a discussion where everyone can have input and learn exactly what they want to know.  It's also a way for me to find out more about what youth here are interested in and what's on their minds.  Despite the fact that I was feeling a bit tired between church and English, I catch another bit of energy out of being able to spend time with the youth. 

After English, some of us go to a kampung outside of Tenom for weekly church service with the people there.  Again, I start to feel tired as the afternoon goes on and wonder if I'll be able to keep awake during church.  But once we get to church, it's good to catch up with the people and see how they're doing.  I'm a bit excited to find that some of the words that we talked about in class earlier turn up in church and I'm a bit more alert. 

After church, the youth want to go and play futsal and invite me to come along.  I'm really feeling tired, but they have invited me and I don't want to turn down the invitation.  "Just go with it," I tell myself. "Don't think about being tired.  This is futsal!  You've missed futsal so much."  Once we start playing, I forget about being tired and everyone gets totally wrapped up in the game.  Afterwards we sit down together, cooling off and talking about the game.  We're not quite ready to go our separate ways and we go back to the church together to practice some music we'll be singing on Friday.  I find it hard to believe that it's already evening and despite the fact that I thought I would be exhausted, I've been carried through another day.

Just go with it.  It's become my mantra when I'm starting to feel a bit negative or weary about a particular situation.  It's become my mantra because things tend to turn out far better than expected and I am able to deepen my relationships with those around me in a ways that would not have been possible if I had just stopped at no.  So it's not a "just go with it" that said in some sort of exasperated tone that says I'm fed up.  It's a reminder to myself to stay open and see what God will do in the day.  And I find that God gives so much for me to not only get through the day, but to thrive and find gifts in situations. 

Making Melodies

I'm walking with my friends and one of them comments on the fact that it's such a beautiful day.  Suddenly we start singing "Beautiful, beautiful..." and then sing the song complete with harmony.  It brings back an inside joke from the first time we started this. 

One of the youth leaders finishes praying at youth group and I start humming "Amin, Amin, Amin" to myself since that's what we sing in church after we pray and now it just seems natural to add that to the end of prayers nowadays.  But I hear someone else humming it too and look up to see that one of the other youth was thinking the exact same thing.  We laugh over the moment. 

I'm with some of the choir members after practice and we still have the songs we've been rehearsing on our minds.  This leads to a medley of pieces well after we've left church. 

These are only a few of the musical moments in my day.  It's probably fair to say that the whole day is filled with one song or another.  My site supervisor is not only a pastor, but a piano teacher and choir director.  Anytime I'm at her house during the day, there are students in and out practicing on one of the many pianos in her house.  There's always music to arrange for choir or pieces to practice for church on Sunday.  Her daughters are also very musically talented and if they aren't playing music themselves, there's always music playing.  There's a common tie, a common understanding since we're all musicians.  We've heard or performed many of the same pieces and we enjoy sharing pieces that are new to someone. 

In choir, I found the rehearsal routine familiar and comforting when I was just getting acquainted with Tenom.  Despite the fact that I was in a choir on the other side of the world or the fact that all the instructions are in Chinese, there was still something comforting that I understood.  Even though I don't know Chinese (there are some wonderful people who translate and many of the choir members understand English) I can still share and join in with music.  There's still ways to demonstrate and help with pieces that don't require knowing Chinese (although my friends think I should add that to learning Malay).  There's also ways to join in with the choir and meet them in singing along with them and being with them during all the work it takes to perfect a song.  It's in that hard work that we all become one choir.  In the end, we end up mutually helping each other in the midst of working to be a better choir. 

Even in everyday interaction with friends around church, I look back and realize that I most strongly connected with them first through music.  Whether it was in becoming familiar with hymns at church, singing at youth group, or just bursting out in the latest pop song, there were many connections made.  I think it's because in music, everyone can join in to some degree or another.  Some people clap along, others hum to the melody (some get fancy and go for the harmony), eventually the "new kid" learns the words, and at some point they learn what those words mean to them.  But there's something for everyone in that music because there's a way for everyone to join in praising God together.  Those times were when I felt the strongest connection to the people around me.  Eventually, those songs made a collection of memories and many times my friends and I can refer back to them just by humming a song.  It's become a language of our own.  So as I reflect on my time so far, I'm thankful for the music.  It's been a way for me to share with others.  I'm thankful for the music in my community.  It's been something that I can grab a hold of and understand.  

Life in Translation

When the YAGMs were in Chicago for our orientation, one of the things that was mentioned was that it was ok to be completely wiped out after even a ‘light’ day of work particularly when we were first getting acclimated to a new country.  There wouldn’t really be a ‘light’ day of work.  After all this time, I’ve really appreciated not only this statement, but what it has meant for me to constantly be aware for the need to translate not just language, but culture and life in general. 

Obviously with differences, there’s a need for me to constantly translate from Malay to English.  But even if I am speaking with someone in English, it’s different than when I speak with my friends and family back home or with my fellow YAGMs.  I have to remind myself not to speak too quickly.  If I’m speaking with someone who is not as advanced in English, I have to be aware of the ways I phrase my sentences so that they will understand without getting lost.  In return, I have to listen for more than just words when someone is speaking to me in English.  Sometimes they’re looking for a different meaning, but don’t know the word for what they want to say.  This means taking into account that they might not always mean exactly what they say and I have to think of ways to ask questions for clarification.  (My friend may be content that she now has a cup of MOK, but might just use the word happy instead.  So what kind of happy is she?)  This difference in how I communicate calls for a whole new kind of listening.  Whether I’m listening to Malay or English, I have to stay completely tuned in to what someone is saying and not think ahead to what to say next (which often leads to long pauses while I think of what to say and how to say it).  At first this seemed awkward, but is it so bad?  How often did I tune out while I was ‘listening’ in order to process and judge what I was hearing?  This need to slow down has made me realize how much I wasn’t listening to. 

But translation isn’t completely restricted to language.  I have to consider how to do even the most simple tasks in a different context. When I first came to Malaysia, this included everything from crossing the street to buying things at the market.  Luckily, these things have become more second nature so there’s less of a brain drain, but there are still things that grab my attention.  Why are people so blunt and honest when they talk about your appearance? (I heard someone tell their friend, “You got fat over Chinese New Year.”  In the US, that would be completely insulting and immediately call for dieting, but it’s just an observation here.)  Why do people eat so loudly and always slurp their soup?  In the US, it might be called it bad manners, but you’re actually encouraged to do so here in order to show that you enjoyed the food rather than just saying you liked the meal.  But there are even deeper things.  How do people feel about family connections? How does culture influence the view of relationship with God and how does that have an impact on how people share their faith?  How does this influence the way I express my faith with my friends.  Likewise, I have to understand this culture as much as possible in order to understand my friends’ faith.  But the more I can understand, the more I can translate into terms I can understand and the more I can learn from those around me.  

Everything is a translation of sorts, but that is not necessarily a bad thing.  It means that I’m constantly engaged with everything around me and there’s not much time to relate to people in an ‘autopilot’ sort of mode.  It means that there is more time between observation and response and I find myself listening much more closely and reflecting more.  The sheer number of translations that I go through on a daily basis can be overwhelming, but they have also been great gifts.  They’re things that I can work through with the friends around me and they can be informative on how to live more closely with my community. 

Another Pespective

As some of the people reading this may know, my parents had the chance to visit me in Sabah about a week ago.  We spent time in KK as well as Tenom.  My mom and I had the idea of letting her share a blog post after the visit.  My parents have a unique point of view.  They've watched this whole process of going to Malaysia unfold and they've been there as I've discerned my path in ministry.  But they also got to see Sabah with a new set of eyes.  I've been here a while and things have become routine for me, but everything was brand new for them.  So, without further ado, here's what my mom had to say about Malaysia.

I really did not know what to expect when I traveled to Malaysia to visit. I had read and
had heard from Rebecca that it was tropical- like South Carolina in late June. I had heard
Rebecca talk about various people she had met and things she had done. But even with all
of that information, I still did not know Malaysia. And even after spending 10 days there,
I still feel like I am only just beginning to get acquainted with Malaysia. However, I feel
better about Rebecca being there, and am proud of what she is doing.

I am Rebecca’s mom, and like most moms, I worry about my children even though they
are adults and perfectly capable of taking care of themselves. That’s just part of being
a mom. So, when Rebecca sent that one-word text back in April 2012: Malaysia, my
“mom-antennas” went up. Malaysia? Why that’s on the other side of the world. That’s
about as far away from home as you can get! However, over the next few weeks, I
realized that not only did Rebecca want to go, but that Rebecca needed to go, and I knew
that I needed to let her go. So, I did, but only because I knew that I would somehow go
there to visit.

First impressions: hot and humid, tropical and colorful, a place of contrasts
As time went by, the people are what impressed me the most and is what will remain
with me. Especially the people of Tenom. The people I met in that congregation there
are very caring and hospitable. They had welcomed Rebecca and welcomed Kevin and
me during our visit there. I know now that I need not worry about Rebecca (Well, okay,
I don’t worry about her as much; remember I am still her mom!). God is watching over
her through the people in Tenom- Auntie Saimi, Helen, Ina, Pastor Lucy and Pastor Wong,
and the list goes on. God is providing for her a wonderful learning experience that will
go with her for the rest of her life. He is at work shaping her and molding her in ways
we may not see right away, but in the years to come. Her path has crossed the paths of
the people of Tenom, and for a little while, they are walking together, learning from each
other.

Yes, Rebecca is on a grand adventure, and I am thankful to have been along for a short
part of the journey. Thanks be to God!

Call to Prayer

It's 5 am and the call to prayer sounds from the mosque across the street.  I jerk awake and it takes a few minutes for my heart to stop feeling like it's going to jump out of my chest.  One of the speakers on the minarets is pointed right in the direction of my house so it sounds like the muezzin might as well be in my room next to my bed.  This goes on for about three minutes as I lay in bed with the covers pulled up over my head.  Usually I can sleep through the morning prayers, but any time I leave Tenom for a few days, coming back means starting over and trying to get used to the call to prayer again.  I roll over and try to doze off again before my alarm clock wakes me.  This morning ritual is another reminder of where I've been living for the past few months.  I'm definitely far away from the Bible Belt of the South in more ways than just distance.

Since moving to Tenom, I've seen signs that I live in a place where there are Muslims, something that was not huge in my life before I came to Malaysia.  In fact, the only time I heard about Islam was either in World Religions class or on the news.  I will not claim to be expert.  Of course, wherever I go, I see women in hijabs.  At certain times during the day, I see people gather at the mosque for prayer.  There are signs in restaurants that declare that the food is halel (ok for Muslims to eat according to dietary guidelines).  There are certain public holidays that are religious holidays for Muslims.  Some businesses display Islamic art.  At first, I would look at these things as signs of how far from home I was, but over time, these feelings have changed.

As I've mentioned in previous posts, many people have welcomed me to Tenom through acts great and small.  These people are from many different backgrounds and include Muslims.  Sometimes this welcome can come from the man who smiles on the street or from the girl in the bakery who asks me how I'm doing.  Sometimes it's the taxi driver who helps me figure out how to get somewhere or it's the man at the library who is oh so patient as I try to explain that I would like to check out a book again (and explains how to ask for this in the future).  In truth, I've received pretty much the same reaction from people around town when they meet me and find out that I am from the US.  Everyone is mainly curious why an American would come to a small town like Tenom.  They wonder why I would even care about a place like Malaysia.  When I share that I teach English and want to learn more about Malaysia, everyone is delighted that I'm interested.  They're even more delighted when I can say this in Bahasa Malayu and that I'm currently learning the local language.

I think that in talking to people from back home, there is a single story of Islam that has come to dominate what many think.  It's the images of the Middle East politics that come through the news every night.  I know that particularly where I lived, this was really all we heard about Islam.  It came off as something harsh and aggressive.  But here, I've experienced something different. I have never received hostility for being a Christian or a foreigner.  I've seen people going about living their daily lives according to their faith.  Isn't that something that Christians strive to do?  Live faith daily?  This realization has made me look at different rituals in a new way.

Though I'm awakened by the call to prayer, I now realize that this is a part of someone practicing their faith daily.  Even though I turn over and try to go back to sleep, people around town are reminded to wake up and pray.  What's so bad about that?  In fact, I think it's a beautiful practice.  Five times a day, people take the time to drop everything and pray.  How often do I remember to do that?  There's certainly plenty that I could pray for.  How would my day be different if I dropped everything and took the time to talk with God?  So maybe I can remember not to be so grumpy when I'm woken yet again at 5 am.  After all, I was able to wake up to a new morning.  Maybe I don't have look at the call to prayer as a reminder of a different culture, but as a reminder to take time with God.  Maybe I won't say the same prayers as a Muslim, but their practice can be a good lesson for me in my life of faith. 

Let Your Light Shine

So the Christmas celebrations have come to a close and here in Tenom we begin to look at the church programs and the directions they will take in the coming year.  I have to say, being in on this stage of planning is exciting.  I get to know what's happening from the start instead on hopping in halfway through.  I feel more involved.  But as I look back on the Christmas season, there is one particular theme that sticks out that has stayed with me as we've made plans at church.  It's something I can't seem to get out of my head and I keep seeing it pop up everywhere.  It's the experience of seeing how everyone around me contributes their light to the whole.  I guess this whole idea really started to stick with me during Christmas celebrations. 

A few nights after Christmas Eve (in Malaysia we celebrate all during the 12 days of Christmas) I joined some of the church members to go to one of the villages for Christmas dinner and worship.  We were all squeezed into a church that resembled a one-room school house (it could have doubled as the village school for all I know) and we were in the midst of once again celebrating Christ's birth.  In the middle of the sermon, the light in the church flickered out, leaving everyone in pitch black darkness.  Without missing a beat, everyone in the church automatically pulled out whatever light they had on them at the time.  Some had large flashlights to walk from their homes to the church in the dark.  Others just had the small glow of their cell phones.  A few even pulled out lighters and held them high.  The sermon continued and after a few minutes some of the men of the church managed to get the light back on again.  What struck me was how quickly everyone responded with what they had.  Everyone's light, no matter how big or how small helped to brighten the church.  I couldn't help but think what it's like when the power goes out back home in the US.  We completely freeze.  Everything comes to a halt.  But here, everyone came together and we continued on with hearing the good news of Christmas.  No one thought the light they had was too small or not enough compared to their neighbor's.  No one thought that their light was not needed. 

This image got me thinking about how people share their gifts in the church here.  Everyone gives all that they have and no one thinks that their gifts are too small or that someone else can cover for them.  In fact, not only does everyone show genuine appreciation for the gifts that are shared, they make a point of letting people know that what they do is appreciated.  The gifts that everyone has to offer are poured in to make the church prosper.  Recently in the village, one of the church members shared a sermon on 1 Corinthians 12.  Yet again, this theme of spiritual gifts came back to tap me on the shoulder.  As we plan for the new year, I think about what Lutherans often say at Baptism.  "Let your light so shine before others that they may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven" (Matt. 5:16).  How will I be using my spiritual gifts in this coming year?  How will those around me pour out their spiritual gifts?  My hope and prayer for this year is that I don't hold back because I doubt myself and the light that I can share.  I also hope and pray to not miss the light that is shining all around me from those people who come together and share whatever they have to offer. 

Sabah Kind of Christmas

I wanted to share some thoughts about the holidays that are also mentioned in my December newsletter back home.  Enjoy!

As I write this, it’s Christmas Eve and I can’t help but look back on what December has brought my way here in Tenom.  I remember thinking on the airplane back from the YAGM Malaysia November retreat that a small part of me dreaded the holidays.  I had been trying to tell myself to let go and see what happens around me, but I still had this nagging feeling that the holidays would make homesickness a challenge.  But I kept telling myself to stop focusing on what I was missing.  This might be a whole new kind of Christmas if I would just allow myself to be in the moment of everything around me.

While in college I worked as a camp counselor at Lutheridge in Arden, NC.  Every year we would celebrate Christmas in July week.  Though the summer temperatures would soar and there was no snow or any of the other commercialism that comes with Christmas, at the end of the week, we would celebrate Christmas Eve and it would feel just as amazing as Christmas in December.  In some ways, I have realized that celebrating Christmas in July prepared me for celebrating Christmas in Sabah.  

There’s a great deal less commercialism that comes with the holidays here in Tenom.  Ok, G-Mart and Bestamart, the two supermarkets in town put up decorations around December 1^st and there are decorations is a few of the stores, but I have come to appreciate not being bombarded by commercials.  The temperatures still feel like summer and there’s no chance of a white Christmas (no matter how many times the youth sing “I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas”).  But I have come to realize that having all my expectations for what Christmas should be wiped clean has made room for me to appreciate how we celebrate in Tenom in a whole new way.

As we’ve planned events and celebrated in anticipation at church, I have come to see the family that has built up around me.  In the absence of the mad Christmas rush and the routine of traditions that I’m used to, I’ve found some God moments in the Advent season that add deeper meaning to the celebrations.  At first I missed the Christmas ‘buzz’ that surrounded the month of December, but I’ve found moments of joy with my community that have grown to fill the days. 

I started this month feeling a nagging dread that I was not going to enjoy the holidays as much, but that dread has turned to joy and anticipation.  This journey has truly been God’s way of stepping in and providing a peace that I needed.  So with this peace, I look forward to celebrating Immanuel the gift of Christ to the world.  May you experience God with you this Christmas and throughout the year.  Peace!