A Plate of Cookies Goes a Long Way

            I’ve always wondered what I would do if I ever moved to a town where I didn’t know anyone.  It’s one thing to move as a kid or a college student where you daily spend time at a school full of your peers.  But as an adult, how do you meet people in a new place?         

Transitioning overseas has caused me to experience this very dilemma firsthand, with the added elements of language and cultural barriers.  A month or so after moving here, we realized that simply going to language class, church, and the grocery store was not enough to build many relationships.  We certainly met some people through these daily routines, but not as many as we’d hoped.  We’d been told (many times) that Arabs are very hospitable and that it doesn’t take much to get an invitation to their house that will likely turn into 3-4 hours of tea drinking and chatting, but we had yet to experience this firsthand and had a hard time believing that simply walking around town would result in an invitation to hang out with a stranger. 

            After a few weeks of frustration, we decided to take action.  We had not come here to sit at home or hang out with other Americans 24/7.  We wanted to meet locals.  So still too shy to simply knock on a stranger’s door, we decided to bake cookies so we’d have a “reason” to show up at someone’s house.  Based on what we’d been told about the culture here, it seemed like delivering cookies to a neighbor would surely result in an invitation to spend time together, and hopefully an opportunity to make a friend.

            The problem with baking, though, was that we had not yet figured out how to control our oven.  It had no temperature gauge (a problem we’ve since resolved) and seemed way too hot, even when turned down as low as possible.  So I wasn’t quite brave enough to attempt baking.  Thus I opted for “no bake cookies.”  Thankfully, peanut butter, though not really eaten by locals, is available in the grocery stores here, as are the other ingredients (oatmeal, cacao powder, etc.) needed for the cookies. 

            So…we walked to the grocery store, carried back all the ingredients, made the cookies, and let them cool/harden in the fridge, an all day undertaking.   Then, when the cookies were finally ready, we filled a plate with them and made the two second walk to the door of our neighbors, who live on the same floor of our building.  Oddly enough, in over a month, we’d yet to see them. 

Feeling a little bit nervous, we knocked.  A small man, not much older than us, came to the door.  We fumbled through the little bit of Arabic we knew, trying to express that we’d made some cookies with chocolate and peanut butter.  He smiled, and we were sure he was about to invite us in.

            “Thank you very much!” he said in English with a smile.  “Have a good night.” 

            And then he shut the door. 

            We stood there for a moment, a bit shocked, and then made the two second walk (which now felt much longer) back to our apartment.  So much for Arab hospitality.  

            Slightly discouraged by our failed cookie incident, we were pretty surprised a week later when we heard a knock on the door and found our neighbor standing outside with a plate of chocolate cake…and not just any plate… It was the same, disposable plastic plate we’d given them a week earlier.  We had purposefully used a plastic plate so that they would not feel obligated to fulfill the cultural norm of returning it with food on it.  But I guess it doesn’t matter what type of plate you give someone.  In this culture, dishes have to be returned full!

Anyway, to our surprise, the man said that he and his wife would like to visit with us later that evening.  Elated, we accepted the invitation with enthusiasm, only to realize right after he left that we were unsure if we were going to their apartment or if they would come to ours.  Knowing that Arab hospitality is very important, we knocked on their door to clarify.  Oddly enough, they told us that they would be coming to our apartment.  Although we were a little confused about being invited to our own apartment, we decided to just go with it.  Perhaps it was just another cultural thing that we didn’t understand. 

            A few hours later, I set out some bowls of chips and cookies and boiled water for tea.  Not quite sure what to expect from our first Arab visitors, we anxiously awaited their arrival.  They knocked right on time (which isn’t surprising since it’s a two second walk), and came in looking just as shy as we felt. 

            Although the language barrier was certainly there, we found that we knew enough Arabic and they knew enough English to at least make it through basic conversation.  The couple explained that they are Iraqi refugees living in Jordan until they can get a visa to America or Canada, where most of their family members now live.  They also shared how they grew up in Christian families in Iraq but each had moments where they chose to believe in Christ for themselves.  We were encouraged by the opportunity to practice our Arabic and get to know people who grew up in a totally different context, yet shared our most important beliefs.  In fact, the conversation went so well that we decided to start meeting weekly!  Not only did we want to learn Arabic, but they had been studying English and were excited about the opportunity to practice with native speakers. 

            We have been meeting for about a month, and last Monday’s meeting was particularly encouraging.  We ended up talking for over two hours (in some crazy English/Arabic mix) about the return of Jesus, signs of His coming, and various passages that discuss these things.  It was so beautiful to see their passion and excitement over topics that we also find so important and full of hope.  It also helped me to realize that, perhaps I was a bit silly to think I could come in and disciple people right off the bat.  This couple, at least, seems to know just as much as I do about the Bible.  Yes, we can have great discussions, and there are probably some things we can teach them, but I have no doubt that they will teach us some things as well. 

            The highlight of last week’s conversation was the very end, when they brought out two, beautiful Arabic Bibles.  It was so exciting to receive a copy of the Bible in the language we’re trying to learn, and we were touched that they recognized how much we treasure the Word.  It was a wonderful gift, and very timely since we had just started asked asking around for an Arabic Bible.  

            Even though I'm still a little shy when we talk to our new Iraqi friends (mainly because I feel like a toddler fumbling my way through Arabic), these meetings are definitely a highlight of my week.  I’m excited to see how this relationship grows and what the Lord will do through it.  And it’s crazy to look back and see that it all started with a plate of cookies!    

 

Land of the Humble and the Great

          One exciting thing about living in this region is visiting sites of Biblical importance, both past and future.  This month, I have gotten to walk paths trodden by both Moses and John the Baptist, men called “the most humble man on earth” and “the greatest born of a woman,” respectively (Num 12:3 and Mat 11:11).  What a privilege!    

            A few weeks ago, we visited the site where Moses saw the Promised Land from a distance before he died (see Deut 34).  As I looked out over the sandy hills and the hazy, tan blur across the river, many questions filled my mind.  First, I imagined how Moses must have felt, seeing the land laden with so many promises just across the river.  Was he heartbroken knowing that he would never set foot there himself?  Or was he simply thankful to see it from a distance?  Second, though it’s perhaps slightly morose, I wondered if Moses’ remains lay somewhere on that mountain, hidden by the hand of the Lord who buried him (see Deut 34:6).  And lastly I wondered WHY.  Why did God choose this land, this region, to be so central to His plan for humanity, salvation, and restoration?  Although the brown hills do have a certain beauty, many other parts of the world seem so much more appealing.  There are lush, green forests and snowy mountains with glacier lakes and bright green rolling hills and silky smooth beaches.  Of all places, why did God choose the DESERT?  Part of me thinks that if I was Moses, I’d have been disappointed.  Does/did/will that land across the river really “flow with milk and honey?”  Or was it the lack of natural glory that caused God to select this land for His chosen people?   

              After mulling over these things for a week or so, we had the opportunity to visit another notable site.  Not too far from the first mountain, on a tall, pointy hill surrounded by many smaller hills, stands what’s left of the palace/fortress of Herod Antipas, tetrarch of Galilee.  Though all that remains now are two tall pillars and a few crumbling stone walls, it is also marked by significant Biblical history.  Somewhere on that hill where we stood watching a pretty haphazard looking archaeological dig, John the Baptist once cried out to the Lord from prison.  On that hill, the prophesied “one crying out in the wilderness” received messengers from JESUS saying, “The blind see and the lame walk; the lepers are cleansed and the deaf hear; the dead are raised up and the poor have the gospel preached to them.  And blessed is he who is not offended because of Me” (Mat 11:4-6).  I imagine it’d be easy to be offended when you were in prison for speaking truth…  As we roamed around the surrounding hills, I could almost feel the prayers of John poured out in that place.  Did he know that he would die for his witness?  Did he know that he would lose his life before seeing the Christ raised from the dead? 

             As we visit these Biblical sites, it’s not just the questions about the past that are raised.  I’m also awed by the fact that we are living in a region so full of Biblical prophesies yet to be fulfilled.  Promises of both judgement and hope related to this land are all over Isaiah, Ezekiel, and many other books of the Bible.  It’s both exciting and sobering to learn about the things that God will do here.  I hope to be ready when these things happen and to know that I have equipped the people of this region as much as possible, that they too may be ready.  In these next few months, I hope to learn more about what God is doing/planning to do in this region.  I want to be in line with His heart and to have wisdom to understand the passages written hundreds of years ago about the land and people right outside my apartment window.     

           

First Impressions

Normal/Not Normal

Many aspects of life here are very “normal” (as in similar to what I experience in daily life at home).  We have hot water and electricity and wifi.  We have cell phones with texting, calling, and 4G.  We go to a grocery store that sells much of the food I’m used to shopping for.  The city we live in has paved roads, traffic lights, and cars driving on the right side of the street.  The bigger cities around here have Starbucks, McDonalds, and even Ikea.  And we have real, porcelain toilets that flush (praise God!).  So just to clarify…we are not living in tents in the desert! 

At the same time, though, many things are very different here, even before you step into the world of Islam and the effects it has on daily life.  We have observed several things that seem to be “normal” here that would never make it on my list of “Things I Often See in Virginia.”  For example, driving along the highway, you might pass a shepherd out with his flock of sheep.  Or you might see what looks like a horse in the distance but later realize that it’s actually a camel.  While walking down the street, you might catch someone throwing a bag of trash out the third floor window of their house into the street (which would then help you understand why there is litter and trash pretty much everywhere).  Or you might hear children playing outside (very loudly) at 11pm.  These things are strange to me, but I expect that soon they’ll be pretty normal.  It’s quite interesting how life in a new place can be so similar, yet so different.     

and one of the not as nice ones... (notice the litter...)

one of the nicer streets in town

view of the landscape

Feelin’ the Love

     Another surprise has been how welcoming the people here are.  Let me give you an example of a very typical conversation with a stranger.

CH:  Marhaba.  (hello)

Local:  (in English, but usually with an accent) Where are you from?

CH:  We’re from America.

Local:  Ahhh…America!!!  Ahlan wa sahlan!  Welcome!!!  America and my country, we are like brothers! 

     This happens literally all the time, and although I don’t completely understand why, I am thankful that we are loved and not hated by the people in this community.  Oh, and sometimes the conversations have another humorous twist:

Local:  Ahh…America!  But…you…you…?  (gesturing towards CH’s face)

CH:  Yeah…I’m American.  But my family is also Chinese.

Local:  Ohhh!  Yes!  Haha, Welcome, welcome!!

     I guess they don’t get many Asian Americans around here…

History Lessons

This city is very interesting because, at first glance, it seems very Muslim.  Looking out the window at night, the landscape is scattered with the green and blue lights of various mosques spread throughout the town.   In the daytime, women walk around in a wide range of Muslim garb, from relatively Western-looking outfits with colorful head coverings to full-on black burkas.  And several times a day, the call to prayer echoes throughout the town, amplified by loudspeakers attached to the mosques.  Life more or less seems to revolve around Islam.

However, as we visited various sites throughout the city, we discovered that history tells a different story.  While there are a few churches in the city now, there are ruins of many churches from as early as 500A.D.  Elaborate mosaics from various churches fill the museums, and nearly every historical attraction in the area revolves around a church or Christians.  In fact, the city was abandoned for many, many years and then rediscovered by Christians who decided to settle here.  I’m curious about what happened.  Why/how did a city founded by Christians become so consumed by Islam?   

largest mosque in town

remains of a church from around 500 AD

 Lost in Translation…or Lack Thereof

Many aspects of life are fairly close to what I anticipated.  The food is good (hummus, falafel, shawarma, etc.).  It’s pretty hot outside, but not humid, so it’s bearable.  The landscape is much more brown than green due to the desert climate…  All these things were expected.  But what I did not really anticipate was the difficulty of the language.  Having studied Arabic every day for the past month or so, I thought I had at least a decent handle on some of the most basic words and phrases needed for everyday life.  However, very little of this seemed to carry over into actual comprehension or speaking abilities now that we’ve arrived.  The words sound completely different than the way we learned them, and learning the letters and sounds really hasn’t helped much with reading signs since we don’t know the vocabulary. 

It’s okay…we’re going to take Arabic classes, and I know that we’ll learn over time, but it’s a strange feeling to be well educated, yet completely unable to read, communicate, or even understand when someone is talking to me.  But I guess maybe that’s kind of how Jesus felt when he came into the world as a human infant.  Though I often feel foolish trying to piece together the tiny pieces of Arabic that I sort of know, I take comfort in the fact that “God has chosen the foolish things of the world to shame the wise, and God has chosen the weak things of the world to shame the things which are strong” (1 Cor 1:27).  It is good to be humbled every once in a while and to know that, if God can bring salvation to the world through an infant, surely He can do something through me, despite my weaknesses.           

attempting conversation in Arabic