Cultural Differences We've Learned to Embrace

There’s a fine line between making fun of another country and finding enjoyment in the other culture’s differences. This treacherous line has kept me from blogging much during our early months here. There’s much to love and respect about the Thai community. Because of our love for this country I’ve decided it’s time to share. Here are a few glimpse of everyday life that make me smile.

• Driving skills
  
  
  Some Thais can fit an entire family (including the pet dog) on a bike. I’ve also seen sheets of plywood, piles of suitcases, and kitchen tables on bikes. Meanwhile, the driver is talking on his cell phone. Another favorite was an elephant being carried across town on a pick-up. Thais possess of level of driving skill that I may never reach. I am learning, however, how to drive a stick shift on the left-hand side of the road. I’ll just pass on adding in the “texting while driving” feature.
  



• Creativity.
  
  
  We’re proud owners of a 91 Sunny Nissan. We have to pull the choke to start the engine. I didn’t even know what a choke was until last month. Apparently most cars stopped using them in the 80s. Our car also has a few rearranged parts. For example, the original level for the choke must have fallen off, so the mechanic replaced it with the level that opens the hood. (We call this our anti-theft security system. You can’t steal a car if you can’t figure out how to start it.) Somewhere along the way our turn signal switch must have fallen off too. It’s been replaced by a screw. I can’t wait to see what happens when the wheel falls off.
  



• Ingenuity.
  
  
  One day when our power was off we saw this view from our balcony. Our electrician’s bamboo ladder is being propped up by a mass of electrical wires.

• Safety regulations.
  
  You may have guessed from points 1-3 that regulations are a little looser here. For example, fireworks are often included in local celebrations. During one event we attended we saw fireworks being lit IN the crowded streets while people, motorbikes, and pickup trucks zoomed by. There’s no age requirement for buying and lighting fireworks, so each holiday seems to be every junior high boys dream. I wish I had a picture of the more dramatic moments, but quite frankly, when I see fireworks going off 30 meters from my feet, my first thought isn't "Hey, what a great photo opp. Let me take my toddler closer." Instead, here's a picture of our Thai friends helping us light a latern from our balcony.

• Safety.
  
  
  Despite what we’re described above, when we’re not driving and we’re not walking through fireworks, we feel incredibly safe here. Most Thais have an extremely strong ethics code when it comes to stealing or harming others. We’re thankful for our new home and our Thai friends who are helping us navigate this new culture.

Househunting

House hunting has been one of our early objectives here in Thailand. Some homes have “for rent” signs which we’re learning to decipher in Thai. Others have English signs, like the one we saw today advertising a “3 bedroom, 2 bath, fartly furnished home.”

In reality, most Thai homes are rented without furniture. This means there’s no couch, no cabinets, and usually no water heater or kitchen sink. You have to add those in on their own. The fact that there’s a sealed up concrete building make a home “nice” in our neighborhood. And really these homes are "nice." I’ve been in much more poverty stricken places than Chiang Mai, but this is the first foreign city that Nate and I have chosen to call home. The discrepancy between the rich and poor has made us question what sort of lifestyle we want here.

Living a comfortable life here would not be difficult or expensive. We found a beautiful fully furnished 3 bedroom home 20 minutes outside the city in a semi-American neighborhood. As we looked at the home it was easy to envision chatting with our English speaking friends on the back porch while watching K climb a mango tree. We could live the American dream here.

And yet we didn’t come to Thailand to live a comfortable, isolated life. And we certainly didn’t come to spend all day mowing grass, cleaning house, and washing windows. There is a time and place for that, but now is not the time for us. We came befriend, serve, and learn from Thai people.

Ironically, as we considered our housing options, God showed Nate a passage in Haggai 1.

“Is it a time for you yourselves to be living in your paneled houses, while this
house (referring to God’s house) remains in ruins?...Give careful thought to
your ways. Go up into the mountains and bring down timber and build the house
(of the Lord) that I may take pleasure in it and be honored.”

God has called us to live in the city among the Thai people so that we can help build HIS house.

We’re not saying it’s wrong to own a large home or to live among people who speak a similar language. We know hundreds of people who have built beautiful homes and are using them to share God’s love with others. In fact, we still have dreams of living in a larger space one day where we can host parties and let K run freely in the yard. God calls His people to neighborhoods of all shapes and sizes, so we can never judge another person’s love for God based on the size of their land.

What we ARE learning, however, is that God cares about how we use our home and how we relate to our neighbors. For this season of life, that means our best shot at ministry may look like living in an apartment building that’s filled with college students. Don’t get us wrong. Our apartment is still very nice, and we are incredibly excited about moving in. But our goal has shifted from wanting a home that’s “comfortable” for us, to wanting a home that allows our family to serve together in ministry. Please hold us accountable to this goal and pray that God will give us the grace to keep the right focus during this season of language learning.

Be Careful What You Ask For

Last night we went to a large Thai supercenter (like a Thai Walmart) to get household supplies. One item on our list was shampoo. We managed to find the hair care aisle (I think), but didn’t see English writing on the Thai products. Hoping the word for shampoo was universal, I picked up a pink bottle that I assumed was shampoo and pointed to it.

“Shampoo?” I asked. The lady nodded confidently. I pointed to another bottle of the same brand. “Shampoo?” Again, she nodded and repeated the word. Glad to know that the Thais use the same word as us for hair products, we bought the bottle and left the store.

Tonight I found myself flipping through the Thai phrasebook reading random words. Apparently “champoo” means pink. I don’t know what substance is in the pink bottle we bought, but hopefully it’s meant to clean hair. If it’s a dye that turns our hair pink, then we’ll have a whole new series of blogs for next week.

Flooding in Chiang Mai

There’s a reason why the guesthouse where Nate and I are staying is called the “Riverside Guesthouse.” It’s right by the Ping River. Apparently that river floods every decade or so. Today happened to be the lucky day. Our room got flooded, but thankfully none of our stuff was damaged and the owner graciously offered to put us up on the second floor for the remainder of our stay here.

Our normally busy street is now filled with sand-baggers and teenagers wading in knee-deep water. The amazing part of it all is the attitude of the Thai people. Men are pushing motor bikes down the street bowing at each other as they pass. Women carrying their children through knee deep water holding their babies and smiling as if they were out to smell the roses. Meanwhile small trees are floating downstream. There is no yelling, no rushing, and no sign of distress. I wouldn’t know a Thai curse word if I heard, it but if there’s rude words being exchanged they are done so with the most gentle attitude I’ve ever seen.

I realize that I have much to learn from the Thai culture. If it was my car, my house, or my store, I may not be so quick to blow it off with a smile. Life is short and possessions are ultimately meaningless. I’m thankful for God’s provision today, but also thankful for the Thai people who are teaching us to let go of materialism.

Good Morning Karis

Daddy gets more than a smile from Karis...

Why?

The final stages of nesting and pregnancy have arrived. I forgot to eat lunch during my lunch break today because I was too busy using our waterpik to powerwash the gunk out of our kitchen sink faucet handles. Fortunately, my missed lunch was no problem. I was still stuffed from the two bowls of cold chili I called breakfast.

But as I nest and eat my Tabasco-ridden food, I’ve also been wrestling with a few questions.

“Why me?” Why did God choose to entrust Nate and I with this little girl? There are so many barren couples who long for children. Why are we so fortunate?

And most of all “Why her?” God’s made it clear from the start that he has a plan for this little girl. First of all, HE gave her a name before we even knew we were pregnant. As I was reading one day, he pointed out a word and asked me to name our first daughter that. Surprised, I told him I would...you know...one day. Two weeks later, we learned we were pregnant. “Oh, did you mean now?”

Next, as we prepared for our first ultrasound, I asked God to give us a boy’s name so we could be prepared for either a girl OR a boy. After all, I had always been convinced that my first born would be a son. God’s only response was “You have what you need.” Sure enough, the ultrasound technician told us it was a girl.

God didn’t just speak to me about this child. He also spoke to my dear friend and mentor Elise. Elise had been praying for us regularly concerning our plans to move to Thailand. But around the same time that God gave me a name for our child, God began planting an image of a baby in Elise’s mind each time she prayed for us. Elise argued with God, explaining that we were preparing to go to Thailand, NOT preparing for a child. But God refused to remove the image from her mind. After this happened a few times, Elise was silently convinced we would soon be pregnant. Meanwhile, I was still clueless.

These experiences make it clear that He has a plan for this little girl. He’s also revealed His sovereignty to us through His Word. HE knit her together in my womb (Psalm 139:13) and HE will be there at her birth carrying her in His hand (Isaiah 46:3).

I wonder what God’s plans are for this little girl. My hope and prayer is that she’ll have terrific health and will grow to love the ways of the Lord. Nate and I will certainly do everything we can to lead her in that direction. But the truth is, we don’t know what God has planned. Despite what we don’t know, the one promise we CAN hang on to, is that God has a plan for this little girl. She is no mistake.

I don’t know why we have been blessed to be parents or why God has matched us with this particular little girl, but I AM confident that His grace and glory will be displayed through her birth and life.

Caring for the Flour Sacks

The doctor says I’m supposed to put on 35 pounds during my pregnancy. That’s the equivalent of strapping seven flour sacks around my belly and carrying them around with me EVERYWHERE I go.

Now that I’m in the six month of pregnancy, I’ve successfully finished off Flour Sack #3. To show her gratitude, Flour Sack #3 has started to kick me. I hear that I can expect future sacks to be even more violent.

To try to understand pregnancy, Nate decided to strap three (non-kicking) flour sacks to his own waist. Here’s a photo of us celebrating the progress. According to the doctor, I still have four more flour sacks to go, but I have NO idea how they’re going to fit. Perhaps Baby Cheeseman will be the first lady to join the NFL.

Not All Pork Was Born Equal

Last week the Asian market was giving out samples of a food I had always wanted to try. The fact that it was wrapped in seaweed and located in an ASIAN market should have given me the hint that the delicacy wasn’t Mexican. But since it was labeled “pork” and looked the approximate size of a Chipotle burrito, I had associated the food with something as tasty as mouthwatering tamale.

As I approached the sample table, I noticed that the consistency wasn’t quite like the doughy shredded pork I expected. With the seaweed wrapper gone, my dream food looked more like chunks of pale hotdog. Unintimidated, I took a bite. The flavor of marinated cartilage infused with pickled baloney soared through my mouth. DEFINITELY not a tamale.

Trying to appear pleased with my selection, I took a closer look at the ingredients under "Pork" label. “Pig fat, pig hooves, salt and vinegar.” Mmmm. Next time I’ll read the label more closely.

Hair Dryers and Water: They Don't Mix

Thanksgiving is a time to reflect on all the things we’re thankful for. There are many for me. But the most recent addition is that silly little picture they put on hairdryers to warn people not to use them near water.

This morning I had to soak my feet in warm water for 30 minutes. (Due to a very sore/black toenail I received during our last backpacking trip.) Standing still for half an hour is a challenge for someone who struggles just to have a sit-down-dinner. So I decided to soak my feet in a huge bucket while I stood at my bathroom sink eating breakfast and getting ready for work.

This worked fine until I pulled out the hair dryer and plugged it in. Before I could hit the switch, an image of a stick figure standing in a tub of water, shaking violently and holding a hairdryer to her head flashed through my mind. She had frazzeled hair that stood out in all directions and was waving one arm in distress.

I’ve always wondered who comes up with these morbid images and puts them on appliances. And what crazed person would dry their hair while standing in a tub of water anyway? Now I know. Never again.

Cloudy with a Chance of Lizards

Yesterday on the way home from church, a lizard fell out of the sky and crashed into my windshield. At first I thought the impact had killed him. But one stoplight later, the 6-inch Godzilla resurrected. Positioning his buggy eyes inches away from my own face, he dug his claws in and glared at me in a bitter yet pleading manner. Apparently he knew that the brutal “execution by windshield wipers” lie at tip of my fingers.

I was more pleased with the situation than he was. It’s hard to maneuver through 4 lanes of city traffic with an angry lizard directly in your line of site. After a few miles of this stare off, Godzilla decided to take matters into his own hands. He tried to leap off the car, but due to the speed of traffic, each leap just resulted into another traumatizing crash back into the windshield. He would leap, I would yelp. He would leap, I would yelp. Meanwhile Nate documented the process on his flip phone.

Finally, our friend made a successful jump over the top of the car and went flying towards the pick-up truck behind us. I don’t know if he lived or not, but the photo is all we have left of his memory.