Chocolate Chip Cookie

This past spring, I volunteered with a few others from my church to come alongside a family who had just moved to Denver from a refugee camp in Nepal (orginally from Bhutan). At one point they asked (through rough translation) to see "our city" on the other side of town, so we arranged a cookout in a little park. I brought, no suprise, the dessert - chocolate chip cookies - a very basic, sweet treat, but they wouldn't even touch them, explaining that they didn't like the taste; it was strange and the chocolate was different and they preferred the treats of their own country.

The past two weeks have been a version of my own chocolate chip cookie - strange and different mixed with a longing for the familiar. I remember listening to a speaker discuss the various stages of culture shock with my Global Health and Human Rights class. After the honeymoon phase comes the withdrawal phase in which "You feel alone and realize that familiar support systems are not easily accessible leading you to withdraw from your new community. Differences between the old and new culture become apparent, reactions are typically centered on the formidable language barrier as well as stark differences in public hygiene [here the streets are infested with cats, flies, and rotting food], traffic safety [pedestrians are at risk], the type and quality of the food [kosher laws prohibit meat and dairy from being prepared in the same place, most places are only dairy, i miss meat]...This phase is often marked by mood swings caused by minor issues or without apparent reason."

Fitting into a mold has never been favorable to me, but I've been surprised to find so much of the above manifest itself in my daily reactions and behavior, driven particularly by how worn out I am at the end of each day. I knew going into this experience that it would undoubtedly be a challenge - and I also wanted to honestly portray my experience here on this blog...

It's hard. I miss everyone at home and my friends with an ache in my heart. I miss Sundays and air-conditioning and engaging with others in conversation whether at the grocery or on the street (smiles aren't cutting it), and being settled in one place (I've been living out of a suitcase - don't move into my apartment until Sept 1st, but the good news is I do have a place to move). New friendships always take time, and I've even been resistant to these as I've wished for the best friends and community I already have (scattered all over the USA). This is not made easier by all of the wonderfully exciting things going on in a few close friends' lives (engagements(!), wedding showers, new journeys of their own) because I love pouring myself into these celebrations as an expression of love.

But God is good, and as I've mentioned before, He has continued to make it clear that I am held up by His provision and His purposes - with no strength or goodness (the mood swings mentioned above have reminded me for the 1000th time my need for His grace) or autonomy of my own. And I love Him for that. I love Him for giving me a mountain in the desert too! Living in Colorado has created a complex that finds secluded, high places essential to processing the state of my heart and the desires of God's heart. There is a memorial atop the only hill in Be'er Sheva that I run to at night as a retreat, my very own Beer Sheva mountain; the first time I realized this was its purpose I about cried out of joy and awe and thankfulness.


And for those of you wondering what occupies my day-to-day, here's a more general update:

Sunday-Thursday: I am in Hebrew class from 8a-12p, a steady flow of new words and a somewhat crazy teacher who yells and sings and bounces from topic to topic. At this point I'm not even sure if we've learned any semblance of things aside from introductions, but I know a lot of random words, a song about the times of day, and 3 paragraphs (our tests involve the memorization of these paragraphs, perfect spelling and all-which may not seem difficult, but keep in mind Hebrew has two letters for "t", "s", "h", "v" and only rarely uses vowels-when we asked about patterns so we would know when to use "tet" or "tav", she just said "oh you know, just photo it").

After Hebrew, we have an hour break for lunch. Usually this consists of a congregation of people outside the school cafeteria, hoarding the AC and cheapest food in Israel (5NIS for a cheese/veggie sandwich (remember, no meat)=$1.50, unheard of anywhere else).

Sunday-Tuesday: Emergency Medicine until 6pm. So far I am an expert in assessing the situation, CPR, using an AED, and bandaging a war wound with the Dutch tourniquet. This week we are learning how to put in an IV...(aka, ouch)...On Wednesdays we cover administrative topics like 'Security in Israel' (translation: what to do if a missile comes in range), and Thursdays we have lectures in medical ethics (thanks to Ethical Decision-Making in Health Care, I seem to have a good handle on the issues, but am really enjoying our discussions about "To Be a Physician").

Last Friday, Irene (my running/Hebrew class study partner/new friend!), Adam, and I took a bus to Ashkelon to spend the day on the beach! The Mediterranean is beautiful, and I was excited to experience the ocean in another part of the world outside of the Pacific, Gulf and Atlantic. We fell right to sleep and floated in the bathtub-temp water to "cool-off", but had to run up to the buses by 3 so we wouldn't be "shabbated" (stranded somewhere in Israel until the end of Shabbat because all transportation ceases). Late last night, a group of us drove into the desert to watch the Perseid Meteor Shower. Today, I wandered around Abraham's Well and the Old City before heading to the Shukh to stock up on fresh mangoes, pitas(breakfast/lunch/dinner item), feta, and vegetables. Next friday we are going to Jerusalem, and then we will be going to the Yam Melach (Salt Sea/Dead Sea) once it cools off a bit.

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Last thing - the concept of a blog is still something I am getting used to, it seems silly to me to assume that anyone wants to hear me ramble on about my life or cares to really read any of this, but as with all of us, there is a part that hopes someone does care enough to listen (through this medium or others). My point: thank you for caring about me and my journey here enough to read any of this, and know that I don't take it for granted. Everyone who received this link is constantly in my thoughts and prayers, and I am ever thankful for the person you are in my life.