Beautiful

The many different shades of skin is striking here. I'm not sure that we have ever been anywhere besides Cuba with such a variety of skin hues. Being here opens my eyes to how narrowly we define what is beautiful.

The advertisements on the bus, the TV, and billboards reflect the wide range of beauty in this country. I hadn't realized how engrained the tiny, white girl image is in the American psyche as the epitome of beauty until I was surrounded by advertisements with Malay women, Arabic women, Chinese and Indian women. Some of them are wearing hijab, some are modestly dressed, and a few scantily clad but they are selling fashion, perfume, and all the same things as the US. They are all beautiful women, but none of them fit into just one category of beauty.

What did surprise me were all the advertisements for massages and pedicures. Those advertisements all feature white women. We have also seen skin-whitening lotion advertised. For a place with so many shades, it is surprising to see pale skin showing up anywhere.

I'm relatively aware of white privilege and how that gets played out in many different ways, but it doesn't feel the same here. There is a funny indifference to Americans here, at least so far in our experience. There are many Australians and Europeans, but folks are surprised to hear we are from the US, especially when we say Alaska.

A Way Around Rules

I wonder if there is something in our nature that loves making rules and then figuring out a way around them. There were two things that caught my eye in the last couple of days that made me think about this. One was watching termites and snails and the other was watching a woman in a full burkha with the most beautiful henna tattoos on her feet.

Rules are great; I'm all for them. They bring order, set boundaries, and inspire a certain level of trust in a community. But, as soon as I set a rule or learn about a rule, I start to push back against it and think of a way around it. I'm not necessarily disobedient, but I enjoy pushing some limits to see how far things will stretch.

As we were hiking through the jungle, we all stopped in our tracks to watch a train of termites crossing the path. It seems to me that the rule of nature would be to take the shortest path between two points, which we all know is a straight line. These termites were traveling in a wavy pattern that was pretty, but seemed impractical. The snails were doing the same. Of all God's creatures, snails should be the ones who are going for the shortest route, but they were doing calligraphy in the sand. I'm sure there is some great science behind their movements outside the lines, but it is not self-evident. Perhaps life in its basest form likes to take the scenic route, the one that moves outside the rules.

Hannah and I got a pedicure - not the best idea with sunburnt feet. While we were sitting there, a young woman in a full burkha and her husband came in to put their feet in the fish tank. We're still trying to figure out why fish eat the dead skin off your feet.  Regardless, her feet were beautiful. The one part of her body that was allowed to be seen by everyone around was covered with amazing henna art. Even in the midst of something that appears so confining, the human spirit seems to push the rules.

Can't help but hear Luther's quote, "sin boldly, but believe and rejoice in Christ even more boldly." Somehow we have to learn how to live graciously in the tension of rules and taking the scenic route.

Intimidating

There is a part of me that wonders if it is right for the dominant group to make exclusive statements of truth. I’m struck by how intimidating those statements are when you are not in the majority. 

We pass many mosques on our walks and bus rides, but there are also the shrines, temples, and churches that spot the area as well. We’re in no position from our time here to make any major review, but since this is my first time spending a good chunk of time in a non-Christian nation I need to be honest about my emotional reaction to what I observe.

Many of the mosques have a banner out front that reads, “The only true faith in Allah’s sight is Islam.” Malaysia has some intimidating official policies around Islam since it is the official religion of the federation and all native Malays are legally-presumed to be Muslim. The ones we have noticed are ones like the most recent controversy over the use of the word Allah for God. Only Muslims may use that word, even though it is the generic word for God in Arabic and used by Christians also. You are not allowed to bring any t-shirt or article of clothing that has quotes from the Quran on it nor anything that says anything derogatory about Islam or the Malaysian federation.

I’m listening to the call to prayer that is amplified throughout the city five times a day right now as I write this. There are sights, sounds and smells from all the places of worship but the call to prayer definitely penetrates all parts of the city.

But, it is not the official policy or the amplified prayer that is unsettling, it is the subtle stuff like banners that declare Islam as the only true faith. Is it possible to be dominant without making exclusive claims to truth? I worry that those exclusive claims can justify all kinds of actions in the name of fixing or saving someone who is lead astray. Those exclusive claims may be dandy for folks who do not hold the power of the state, but once the state and an exclusive religion are combined, then non-majority folks should probably be afraid.

How do folks from other cultures and religions experience the Christian dominated USA? I’m guessing there is a mix of feeling intimidated and incredibly homesick. 

Flashbacks

I keep having flashbacks to Tanzania. Kirt and I started our marriage in a little house at Makumira Seminary outside Arusha, Tanzania. When things feel difficult and strange here, we tell the kids about  Tanzania and the mouse poop that dropped from the cracks in the ceilings, the rats that ran between my feet while I cooked, the laundry that had to be scrubbed by hand, and the heat that never let up.

Sometimes I think we have such a healthy marriage because it was so rough in the beginning. There weren't any computers, internet, or cell phones yet. When we wanted to talk to folks at home, we had to write a letter giving them a time to call, hike to the Dik Dik hotel at the designated time, and hope that the country's phone lines were functioning. I had to type my papers on a manual typewriter and that was a good exercise in swearing. Getting food was an adventure. Mama Namsi would lead me through the rice paddies filled with snakes, take the harassment for being with a white woman, and remind me to only use one hand to steady my basket on my head or the men would lift my skirt.

I started giggling on the clean, air conditioned Malaysian bus folks thought might be uncomfortable for us when they urged us to take taxis. I remembered being crammed into the buses headed to Arusha where folks were hanging off the outside and goats and chickens were as welcome on board as everyone else. The only time I ever smacked someone was on one of those buses and I surprised both of us.

I will always be thankful to Dr. Leland Elhard for pushing me into that experience. He knew that things came easily for me and if I was going to make it as a pastor, then I needed to know discomfort and difficulty. I needed to know what it felt like to keep moving when I just wanted to curl up in a safe little ball or at least go home.

Malaysia is a walk in the park compared to Tanzania, but the rats in Georgetown last night did make us watch our step a little closer.

Ten things I've learned so far

We are close to completing our first week in Malaysia. Many people asked us why we chose Malaysia. Some of it was randomness, but mainly we chose Malaysia because it is known for its hospitality to a variety of people. That has definitely proven true so far.

But, this seemed like a good moment to reflect on what I have learned so far:

1.  I will probably never get a body massage or body scrub from a man with only a few teeth sitting in front of a hand painted sign.

2. The Muslim call to prayer amplified throughout the town is beautiful as the sun is setting, but less so at 6 am.

3. Monkeys are cute at the zoo, but much more intimidating on the street.

4. I love food and we chose well coming here. The food has been absolutely amazing and diverse even when we have no idea what we are getting.

5. Grab the toilet paper on the wall before you go into the stall with the hole in the ground.

6. Sandals that fit when it was 50 degrees do not necessarily fit when it is 90.

7. Alaska could market to the burkha wearing crowd because wearing all black from head to toe seems more reasonable in our climate.

8. Do not swim at low tide when the water cools because the jellyfish come out and Sophia can attest that their sting does hurt.

9. Public displays of affection and gum are no-nos.

10. I still can't figure out which way to look for oncoming traffic and I'm not sure why motorcycles don't have to follow any traffic rules. I have learned to look carefully both ways and then cross swiftly.

Proud Moment

I had a wonderful parental moment when my thirteen year old Hannah took the lead in the confusing train station in Kuala Lumpur.  She knew what she was looking for and confidently led us to it through the crazy crowds.

When I think of the qualities that I desire for my children, bravery is one of the top. I have tried to train myself as a parent not to say “be careful.” That’s not easy.  There is something so natural about trying to make bubbles around the ones we love and imagining that if they are full of care then they can dodge all that comes their way.  I’m afraid that is a great way to raise cowards.

I want my children to get hurt, to know enough suffering so they can be resilient through it and not destroyed.  I want them to take risks so they know what if feels like to be alive.  And I want them to make good choices.  Those are the words that they often leave the house hearing, “Make good choices” and my other favorite phrase is, “Remember choices have consequences.” 

I don’t want them to be full of care and try to live life safely.  I want them to be wise, brave and compassionate. Sometimes I think the church tries to be safe and careful when we are called to be wise, brave, and compassionate.

Outside Dominance

I am thankful that the creepy looking monkeys at Batu Caves did not attack.  They were cute from a distance, but then they looked at us with a certain malicious glint in their eyes and Kirt said he was not stopping to take their picture.

Batu Caves is a temple for Hindus.  I’m not going to pretend like I remember much about Hinduism other than the phenomenal amount of gods and the wild, lively stories about their interactions with each other and humanity.  I loved the smell of incense and sound of chanting that filled he day.  Hindus are vegetarian so all the restaurants were vegetarian.  We went into one and the “waiter” was so gracious.  He helped me order and made me not feel like an idiot. He even brought us extra napkins. We noticed none of the tables filled with Hindus needed extra napkins. 

Batu Caves was an experience of gracious hospitality.  We were totally out of our element with no clue of what the right thing to do was and folks helped us out, smiled kindly, and guided us through the maze of another culture and religion. 

I can’t say that is true about the dominant religion of Islam. We just haven’t interacted enough yet. It is fascinating to be in a Muslim nation where that underlies all the rhythms of the nation regardless of individual beliefs.  We have seen everything from burkhas to short shorts, but there is an expectation of modesty. There are also rules. Rules that are clearly defined in pictures with a big red x through them, but also some that are unspoken. 

Coming out of a nation where Christianity is the rhythm, it is fascinating to be in a place where we are outside the dominant rhythm. That was some of the point and we are definitely experiencing it..

I also have to admit that I have to break two of my greatest habits - coffee and pointing.  We were excited to finally find coffee bags that contained 70% beans, the other 30% was sugar, salt, butter and margarine.  All the other options taste like International Choice with double sugar. There is just something wrong with the universe. Might just have to switch to tea. 

It is a rude gesture to point with your pointer finger here. Who knew how much pointing I did? I’m working on pointing with my thumb, but that is not coming easily.