Tuesday, May 24, 2016

Otherwhere After the Green

It's here. The day of what they call "repatriation," or returning to your home country after a time living in Otherwhere. Thursday morning I submit to the strange limbo of plane travel and that night I emerge in the many-fruited landscape known as Michigan, to the warmth of the people who know me best... a "home" more penciled-in than taken for granted, these days.

For the last two years,  I've lived in a summer world, viewing sunshine or starlight from the rooftop while listening to bachata floating by from the nearby colmado. Sweating like crazy at afternoon outreaches while keeping kids in line, and literally having to peel dust off in the shower. Smelling plumeria one moment and sewage the next. Drinking ants in my coffee and tasting the fruit of the chocolate plant. An hour and a half from beaches and riches, next door to a row of mansions... and a two-minute walk from people who live in ways I could never have imagined before I lived here and knew them. This place and its people have changed me. And now, confronted by a return to everything I knew before, I have to figure out how to tuck and roll when I land. My passport country will have changed, too... I can't expect things to be the same. So how does New Lyndi fit with New but Old Home?

"How do you see yourself as different now?" my thought-provocative brother inquired a couple of phone calls ago, when I was expressing my internal turmoil.

I suddenly couldn't answer him. "It's... just different," I attempted feebly. "I think different, I feel different... I talk different..." I suddenly felt like a little kid trying to explain why she deserved to go first in line, trying to convince him I was allowed to feel somehow "special" just for living someplace else and coming back. That wasn't my brother's intent, I'm sure, but... why did words fail to describe the Lyndi before and after?

My friend Trena has been overseas for 30 years. "I don't know if you can ever explain it to someone who has never done it," she said. "Not fully."

As we say here on the Casa Grande base, I'm neither home culture nor here culture anymore, neither yellow nor blue. I'm green. And... it's not easy being green.

In the time I've been gone, I've...
...learned to have a conversation in two or more languages to make sure everyone understands.
...gotten used to communication barriers and working HARD to be understood.
...learned that there's almost always a way to fix broken things instead of buying new ones.
...had to learn to rely on other people's systems to fulfill my needs... and on their schedules to drive me places.
...lived at a strangely slower pace, because time is not as important here.
...been broken to pieces and reassembled.
...been hurt by certain circumstances and healed by others.
...learned to save face for other people because that's important to them.
...been taken out of control to see who I become.
...have come face to face with lesser versions of myself, and I haven't always won.
...learned to mop my bedroom floor... instead of a vacuum or a Swiffer or what have you.
...learned that expectations are dangerous, so it's better to have none and stay flexible.
...seen both the beauty achieved and the damage done by American missionaries.
...learned that the world is way bigger than the US of A!
...lived with the values of a different place.
...practiced laughing cross-culturally.
...learned more new songs in Spanish than I have in English.
...heard voices raised in other languages in songs of devotion for our Creator.
...watched so many faces light up with understanding of their salvation.

And I have seen God...
...make a way where there was no way.
...provide in specific and miraculous senses.
...heal people of diseases.
...deliver people from demonic oppression.
...reveal His character in the heavens.
...draw me closer to His heart.
...meet me in my loneliness.
...join people from many nations at His throne by His Spirit.

So now I...
...translate everything in my head.
...am stuck with the eternal sense that in an English conversation there's a Spanish word to express it better, or vice versa.
...have the tendency to use both languages in the same sentence.
...immediately think to ask the question "what brought you here?" to make small talk.
...think more frugally.
...hesitate to take defective merchandise back to the store.
...would never complain to the management about my food in a restaurant.
...think twice about going out alone as a woman.
...fear different things.
...am confident in new ways.
...trust God more.
...worship and lead worship in a new-to-me way that considers a wider variety of perspectives and how they engage.

So now people will ask, "How was your trip? Was it everything you hoped it would be?"
And I will ache inside as I tell them that yes, it's been great! And I have grown tremendously! I have seen people healed and lives changed... my own included! And I will politely not tell them that it wasn't a trip, it is my life... and life is never exactly "everything you hope it will be." Because so often it is more. Oh so much more.

In two days I will hear faint strains of music fading away like a colorful tropical dream as I float up and leave home to go home. Catch the last glimpses of the people here I care about most as I walk away from them in the airport for the last time, at least for now.

Off for another round of trying to figure out where to put down roots, and how far down to let them grow. When you are a sojourner, you don't ever get to go "home." If you can't take "home" with you, you never get to be there. And whatever "home" I find... there's no telling how long I will get to stay. It is bittersweet, and it is good, and this makes way for the next adventure. The next open world, further up and further in where my Friend awaits.

I am a triangle, I am green, I am whatever you want to call me as long as it means I am literally neither here nor there. I live in Otherwhere, and Otherwhere is my home.


6 comments:

Unknown said...

I love this, Lyndi. And like most people that love this, it's because it's relatable. Even though you thought you couldn't put your inner turmoil into words, you did it so well. Thank you.

And I can contest, that even though you have changed and will most definitely see your new old home through a new lens, God will use your new growth (that others may not recognize or understand) to be a blessing. God will let you grow the perfect amount of roots for your new season, and seeing your old home with new eyes will produce even more depth of vision in you.

Bless you, Lyndi! Thank you so much for sharing this.

Patty S said...

Beautiful insights and awareness, Lyndi! So grateful you shared with us at Velvet Ashes today. I agree with Karen - this is so relatable and there are others who are going to find hope in what you've written. Blessings on your new season.

Unknown said...

Yes, SO beautifully put, Lyndi! I love the "otherwhere" idea. For those of us who don't know how to put it into words, that helps explain things quite well. And the part about being "green"--and it not being easy. How accurately said! Maybe that's why green is my favorite color. :-)

We need to get together soon for a good catch up.

love you dearly.

Laura said...

I was so happy to read your post! Not because you're about to experience re-entry but because as soon as you mentioned bachata I knew we've both loved the same country :) We left the DR 14 months ago after almost 3 years in Santo Domingo. Sunday we re-re-entered after a 10 day visit. Such a hard time! And full of His beauty in unexpected ways. Praying you can see those things in the midst of experiencing loss.

Davis Family said...

Thanks for sharing your story and how you are experiencing returning to your passport country! I agree with your friend it is difficult to describe if you've never done it. I have done it once before as a single woman and now am returning with a family. It makes me nervous! Blessings on your journey

Michele Womble said...

Lyndi, I love how you use the word Otherwhere - I think I'm going to borrow it. :-) You did such a good job of describing the effect of this process on you (on all of us!) I hope you send your brother a link so he can read it. I totally related to much of what you said (although different place, and the word that I'm searching for that'll describe the situation so much better than the English word ISn'T Spanish, but Russian!) but the words that hit me the most for today were: "When you are a sojourner, you don't ever get to go "home." If you can't take "home" with you, you never get to be there. And whatever "home" I find... there's no telling how long I will get to stay. It is bittersweet, and it is good, and this makes way for the next adventure. The next open world, further up and further in where my Friend awaits"
I highlighted them and am pasting them to my desktop...
Yes, home has to go with us