Coming "home": a reverse culture shock story (part 1)

The terminology is seemingly innocuous : coming back home.

It doesn't matter how it's worded:  "Are you going home this summer?" "When are you coming home?"  Whether I'm coming or going, everyone refers to the place I originally came from as home.  But what if it isn't?

The concept of home carries so many implications -- security, intimacy, familiarity, acceptance, belonging.  But what if that isn't the case?  What if I'm not coming home, but simply relocating to a place I used to live?  I don't mean to sound heartless, but the associations that come with the mention of home do not necessarily ring true for me.   The most I can say is my hometown is familiar to me.  It is not secure or intimate. Can I really claim my hometown in Oregon as "home" if I haven't lived there in a decade? Yes, it is a town I've lived in the longest - about 15 years - and yes, I still have family in town.  But is it still my home?

While living overseas, I've had to consciously stop myself from correcting others when they ask when I'm "going home".  I set down roots.  I made Thailand, and then Korea, my home.  I did not see myself leaving Asia anytime soon.  Yet to expats and locals alike, when summer or Christmas rolled around, the inevitable question would pop up innocently enough: "Are you going home?"  I wanted to tell them, "I am home!"  "This is my home!" But I knew what people meant: a return to where I once lived. Perhaps I recoiled from the idea because of the overall implication that where I was currently living was only temporary; that I'd eventually return to my "hometown".

Little did they know that I carried home with me.  Home was where I lay down roots; found a community; invested in the life around me; learned to function in a culture different than my own.

So did I return home?  The difficulties in answering this question is that when I came back to Oregon, I already knew it was on a temporary basis.  I couldn't lay down roots and settle in because I was already planning on leaving 6-8 months later. This has made reverse culture shock extra difficult to manage, mostly because the entire process of acclimating to a new culture (or old in this case) is allowing yourself to settle in.  I couldn't settle in because it would make uprooting even harder to handle.

I'm content calling this "home" for now.  But in a few months, Greece will be my home.  And after that, who knows?

I know the world is only a temporary home.  One day I'll be in my forever-home.  It makes drifting from one place to another infinitely easier.  I hold people and places loosely.  I cherish friendships when I am present, yet feel blessed to have friends world-wide.

I've learned to hold home close to the chest.  It is not a place; it is a feeling.


Note: I don't know how long I will write about this subject, but there will be a few installments concerning reverse culture shock.

A reflection on the past

For someone who thrives on living life abroad and the continuous challenges that come with the territory, transitioning back to America has most definitely been the hardest thing I've had to do in a long time.  Moving to Korea in 2016 had its own challenges, but it was a change I sought.  And somehow it was a change that allowed me to regain some semblance of control.  (Yeah right).  When I made the decision to move back to Oregon, it was purposeful, but I knew, I knew, control was not in my grasp.  I knew I was giving up independence.  I knew I was giving up space.  I knew I was giving up financial security.  And I knew I was giving up a community that had become my safety net.
I also knew that I would be entering the phase of reverse culture shock. I tried preparing myself by reading what others wrote on the subject.  But in the same way reading a travel book is nothing like experiencing that travel destination, knowing about the challenges of re-entry didn't lessen the blow.  However, this is not a post about reverse culture shock.  I know, it really looked like I was finally getting into the subject I've been hedging for several posts now.  One day I'll get around to writing about it -- the good, the bad, the ugly.

For now, let's take a look back at 2018...

I took not one, but two trips to Guam within about 5 weeks of each other.  This island holds a lot of special memories from childhood, but is also breathtaking in its own right.  Although I was young when I used to live there, none of those memories were diminished by returning as an adult, (as is often the case).  Actually, I believe the nostalgia intensified my joy at being back in a place I first called home.  It was wonderful experiencing it with first my brother, and then with some friends. 

I was thrilled to be able to attend the Winter Olympics held in South Korea in February.  It was incredible, although entirely too cold for me.  The events I focused on were ice hockey and ice skating; both indoor sports of course. Sharing it with these folks made it all the better!

The end of March brought me and a small YISS team to Bangkok for our short-term mission trip.  I went last year, but this year I had the privilege of leading the team back to my old stomping grounds.  It was both fulfilling and stressful.  We had a lot of last minute challenges pop up, including losing team members, but through it all, God was faithful.  The girls were safe and had a great time.  It was beautiful seeing them step up as leaders and minister to both children and women. (It took a lot of scrounging for pictures; somehow I deleted all of mine! Yes, I'm devastated.)

I've mentioned my Seoul community before, but now I want to show you them, because they helped keep me sane, grow in my faith, and support me through my self-discovery. Everything from after church lunches and hangouts, to beach trips, to potlucks, to weddings - my heart was filled to overflowing with this bunch!

But then the arduous task of goodbyes came, and I eased some of the pain by visiting SE Asia before returning to America.  I spent my birthday in Chiang Mai with friends, visiting the children's home I had become attached to, and eating my way through the city.  With a brief stop in Bangkok visiting with my old church family, I was on my way to Manila for a whirlwind visit!

August/September brought me to Greece for two reasons: volunteer with Lighthouse Relief again, and conduct a vision trip to gain a greater understanding of what lay in store for me with GEM as I raised support.  This trip was so incredibly crucial! Not only was I able to gain first-hand experience with refugees and learn more about the situation in Greece, but it helped me figure out where I want to serve once my support is raised.  I thought I'd be heading back to Lesvos, but God showed me the need in Athens was much greater and where I could serve to the best of my abilities.

And finally, learning how to live life in rural Oregon again.  Eight years in giant metropolitan areas conditioned me for a different lifestyle, but returning to Oregon where everyone speaks English and engages in small talk on a regular basis made me feel like a fish out of water.  It's not the thriving one might expect returning to one's hometown.  It's not the ease, the relief, of slipping back into the intimately familiar.  But, that's for another post.  Instead, it is reacquainting myself with childhood friends.  It is remembering how to socialize with Oregonians exclusively.  It is readjusting to a slower pace of life with nature at one's fingertips.  And it is ultimately a time to thank God in all things -- even when I do not feel thankful.  Because how can I be who God wants me to be without being sharpened by the people He brings into my life?

As I look forward to what 2019 holds, I am confident that God will carry me through the challenges and bring me out the other side more resilient than ever.

A trip down memory lane

Feeling nostalgic, I started reading through my old posts from my first year teaching in Thailand, and it nearly brought tears to my eyes -- both tears of joy and longing.  I'm incredibly grateful that I had taken the time to record some of the day to day occurrences while I still had the chance.  Looking back at that time (especially when living in Asia was so new), there's no way for me to post-record some of my memories.  I'll still relay some of my experiences in places I visited, things I've done, places I stayed at (posterity reasons), but nothing will replace the fresh memory of moments with locals, students, colleagues, and the random stranger.  As years made the strange eventually familiar, my posts grew further apart, until there were literally years between posts.  I wish I recorded more of my first moments in Seoul, Korea in 2016. Instead of taking time for blogging, I used other social media platforms to convey the quick moments -- Facebook and Instagram -- but nothing can replace the online journal, as laboriously relay snapshots of my life overseas.

While I do not make New Year's resolutions, I feel a need to declare my desire to write more often.  Although "Hell is paved with good intentions," I feel secure in the knowledge that I am not on my way there.  However, the sentiment is not lost on me -- intentions without action are meaningless.  I will strive not to be meaningless with these intentions.

Some of my favorite memories I've read through involve my interactions with my beloved students (particularly my first class) -- that are now all adults -- but they sure were the cutest 8th graders I have ever had the privilege of teaching.  They taught me how to laugh, forgive, relax, and love like no other.
I poured myself into my first class of 8th graders.  It was my first year teaching, the first class I could intentionally influence, and they had a mind of their own! They had a living charisma, a personality I have never seen since.  Granted, each class after them also had their own distinct personality, but nothing like my 8th grade class from 2010-11.  Did I have favorites? Absolutely.  This entire class was my favorite out of all the classes I taught.  I could also say that about other classes for very different reasons.  But they were my first love.  I speculate it is similar to a mother who tells all her children they are each favorites.  But a first-born....they have a special place simply for being first.  A mother's love does not divide among her children, it multiplies.  And I continued to love each class that came after my first, continued to hone my teaching skills based on previous classes.

One day, hopefully soon, I will find my favorites and laugh over the ridiculous antics that took place in the classroom.  I hope above all hope that they don't grow up too much.  We all need to remember what made us laugh with abandon. <3 br="">

The road I never thought I'd travel

"A man plans his course, but the Lord directs his steps."

Prov. 16:9

I've told and retold this story so many times in person, it's about time I write it down.  This post gives you some background about when I decided to leave the education field and enter missions.  For now I'll be sharing more about the plunge into missions and how you can be a part of that.

Lesvos sunset, 2018

God first introduced me to refugees wayyyy back in 2010 when He brought me to Bangkok, Thailand.  I had agreed to help a coworker teach English to a large Pakistani family, and we ended up growing close over the next two years.  We were no longer just teachers and students.  We became a family during those two years.  I shared what I could about American culture to help prepare them for a life in the States.  They in turn shared their warm culture with us and their delectable culinary skills.

I wished I could devote more time to working with refugees, however, I couldn't figure out realistically how that would work.  I was teaching full time, after all.  I had to earn a living, didn't I?

I was wrong.

If I truly was relying on God to handle  my finances and future then I would have realized that I could devote myself to His work and not worry about financial stability (Phil. 4:6-7, Matt. 6:25-34).  The truth of the matter was, I needed to live my life as though I believed what God said in His Word -- after all, faith without deeds is dead (James 2:17).

In June of 2017, while volunteering with Lighthouse Relief, I was sitting on a rocky beach on a Greek island when I finally submitted to His will. And it was a relief.  I was struggling with teaching and I knew it.  God new it.  Ever since my time in Bangkok, I felt deep inside that I was headed toward something big.  Little did I realize it meant changing careers and moving to another country on another continent.  That's the beauty of God's plan -- it is far grander than anything we could imagine for ourselves, and will ultimately take a route we never saw coming.  I couldn't believe I was seriously considering quitting teaching.  At first I was startled, but I was immediately flooded with peace.

I was brimming with excitement.  This meant I could now devote all my time to working along side refugees without feeling like I should have a "real" job (i.e.: earn a salary).  So by June 2018 I headed back to Oregon without a definite time frame for heading into the mission field or what exactly I would be doing with refugees.  I had been in contact with Greater Europe Mission (GEM) since January, and was accepted as a one-year intern.  My plan has been to work as a substitute teacher in my hometown while I raise a year's worth of financial support.

Then in the month of August (before the school year really kicked off), I had the opportunity to go on a vision trip to Athens and the island of Lesvos to check out the ministry opportunities available.  I am so incredibly grateful for this trip!  Lesvos had my heart since I first volunteered last year.  I wanted to stay open to where God would led me, but if I were honest, I was pretty set on returning to the mission field on Lesvos.  But then God showed me the overwhelming work that needed to be done in Athens.  The families that want to integrate into Greek life.  The minors who are trying to reunite with their families.  The divide between Greeks and refugees caught in limbo.

And it broke me.

Even after my visit with the mission team on Lesvos, I was hesitant to give up my dream of returning to the island.  I desired Lesvos for selfish reasons, and sensed God was not drawing me there.  If I truly cared for the Kingdom, then I would have to be obedient to His calling.  He would take care of Lesvos with people He was equipping.  I am so thankful that God has brought me such peace through this entire decision-making process.  Although the need in Athens is great, two ministries in particular caught my eye, and can be found in this post.

Lesvos sunrise, 2018

"Now you are the body of Christ, and each of you are a part of it."

1 Cor. 12:27

It has not been easy, but God has been gracious.  I have never had to raise support of this magnitude before, so asking for financial support when I have always been self sufficient has been a humbling experience.  However, I also know, and have been reminded several times, that God equips certain people to go and certain people to stay.  Those He sends out of their home country are not alone, but are one part of the whole body of Christ.  We cannot all be proverbial feet, or ears, or eyes (1 Cor. 12:12-27) -- this was something I had to come to terms with.  I was not a failure if I couldn't do it all. God never expected us to be able to do everything.  And He never expected us to be everywhere.

Ultimately, His lesson is clear: we all work as one body.  All I can do is trust others to do what they are called to do, and support them as much as possible.

This is where you come in.  As I said, I cannot do this alone; which is why I am boldly asking you to join me on this venture.  If you have ever thought about ministering to asylum seekers and refugees, this is a wonderful opportunity for you! I need to raise $24,500 USD to live for one year in Greece, and I greatly need support!  I am confident God will supply this financial need.

Currently I am around 40% of my financial goal.  I would like to be in Greece by the end of January/beginning of February, however, I cannot set a 'launch date' until I have reached my goal; therefore these funds need to be in before the end of the year.

If you would like to make an end of the year donation, know that all financial contributions are tax deductible.  The best way to partner with me is through this link: www.gemission.org/missionaries/40130 and you may choose to make a one-time donation or become a monthly supporter.  This link operates similarly to a crowdfunding page, only it is directly through the GEM site.

Working with asylum seekers and refugees has weighed heavy on my heart for eight years.  Please consider helping this dream become a reality in the near future!  Let me know if you have any questions, and I will be happy to answer them!

-  Lissa 

On leaving my work in Asia behind

I struggle with the life I've left behind in Asia -- both in Bangkok and Seoul.  Naturally I miss many culture-specific things that I grew accustomed to.

 But this is not about reverse culture shock.  There will be other posts lamenting that ongoing struggle.  This is about guilt.  No matter how long I've been away, I cannot help but feel like somehow I quit. Somehow I gave up the race before crossing the finish line.  Somehow I didn't finish what I started.  Somehow. . . I lost.

Quitting carries such a negative connotation.  It implies giving up.  And giving up implies failure.  I don't want to fail at something I feel God has gifted me in.  I don't want to admit that everything I did overseas -- the countless hours invested in the classroom, in students' lives, in the lives of my coworkers -- was all for nothing.

But it wasn't for nothing.

Not a moment of it was.  I cherish the relationships I built with people during my time in Thailand and Korea.  I connect to places by the people I met there, and boy did God bless me with relationships!  Even the times I spent sitting in a classroom in a darkened hall trying to grade, prepare, lesson plan, set up, and sometimes even cry, taught me how to overcome obstacles and rise above challenges.  Sure, the work was difficult.  There was often too much for one day to handle.  But these were growing years, stretching years.  Interactions with friends and colleagues taught me much about myself.  I've had to eat humble pie more times than I can count.  I've had to learn to laugh at myself, and be gentle as I laughed at/with others.  I only pray these lessons stay with me as I drift through life.

But on days like today, I question my decision to leave Asia and teaching behind.  I doubt my decision to return to America.  I wonder if I gave up a good -- great, incredible, secure -- thing with people who have blessed my life immeasurably.  My gut clenches every time I think about sunny days in Asia: lounging on Thailand beaches, roaming the streets of Seoul, exploring incredible nature, laughing at yet another situation where foreigners collide with everyday Asian culture.  Not to mention gathering with friends every chance we got, creating music together, discovering another restaurant, sharing our struggles as believers and foreigners, connecting with students and sharing real life with them in ways I've never done in America.  And still my gut clenches because all the things I struggled and cried over don't hurt nearly as much as the things I rejoiced in now that I left them behind.  If I make a list of my blessings, they would far outweigh the difficulties, as insurmountable as they seemed at the time.

Oddly, the job that brought me to Asia is the one currently sustaining me.  I haven't quit teaching cold turkey.  I substitute teach middle and high school and enjoy it for the most part.  It reminds me that I could still teach.  If I wanted to.  Although it's not consistent work, it is work I can do, then leave behind when the bell rings.  No staying late grading.  No lesson planning.  Some teachers leave me fantastic lesson plans where things are laid out -- and sometimes I can actually teach (instead of playing a video)!  Others expect me to teach their class without any direction.  It can be frustrating sometimes, but the work is very flexible, and I am thankful.  However, I am still left with that feeling in the pit of my stomach.

God moved me from Asia, and I chose to follow willingly.  I do not know the future.  But He has given me a new direction and purpose.  I know this to be true with a resolution I can only account to faith.  Although that doesn't stop me from looking over my shoulder into the past, my only hope is to learn from what is behind me and press forward.

Who knows?  Perhaps He will bring me back to teaching.  Perhaps He will bring me back to Asia.  For now I find peace in knowing He is preparing me for a very different future than I have ever imagined.  And I cannot quit.

AIR CANADA

Reasons I will never purposefully fly Air Canada

- Operates like a budget airline
- 7am-2:30pm flight: no in-flight meal served; for purchase only.  At least they served me water!
- 1st flight: Entertainment system did not work for several rows (mine included)
- Overhead lights stop working
- 2nd flight (international): no entertainment system at all; must download app while in WiFi
- Minimal overhead storage for carry-ons for a pan-Atlantic flight - less space than most regular airlines
- Thin, cheaply constructed seats that are packed in; no adjustable headrest
- No USB charging
-*this flight was supposed to be operated by Lufthansa, but for no apparent reason, was switched to Air Canada. I would have rather flown with Lufthansa!

      

A couple Greek churches and their AMAZING impact

Back in September of this year, I had the chance to go on a vision trip to Athens and the island of Lesvos to check out the different refugee ministries that GEM partners with.

Athens in relation to Lesvos

In total, I visited five different ministries, but two particular ones in Athens caught my eye. This is a true testament to churches pouring themselves into reaching a people in need...

The first one is called Faros.  Faros, in Greek, means "lighthouse".  This ministry sprang up from a small church plant in the Exarchia neighborhood in Athens, and has grown tremendously! They focus mainly on refugee women and unaccompanied minors.  They run a day center for women to come and receive services and resources as they are living in Athens. Women can take language classes, get care for their toddlers/infants, shower, and speak to a number of different representatives from other organizations, including Doctors without Boarders.

Another facet of their ministry focuses on unaccompanied minors.  They have a shelter that can house up to 22 boys between the ages of 10-16 as they seek to reunite them with their family.  A vocational center sprung out of the shelter to meet the needs of these boys.  Through it, they teach young boys vocational skills they can take with them anywhere.  They have caught the eye of MIT, who is now partnering with them as volunteers teach crucial skills such as: carpentry, science/technology, tailoring/sewing, language lessons, etc. They are also hoping to open up the 2nd floor of the building for women, and build a similar program.  I am most excited about this center! I'd love to put my background as a teacher to good use! I know I'm not meant to put my teacher self in a box on a high shelf, it will always be a part of me, but it's going to take a different form.  I can't wait to see what that form is!

Bunk in the shelter

Sewing room in the Vocational Center

 Further evidence that the Exarchia church is investing everything into refugee ministry is shown through their actual church building.  They converted their church offices into temporary apartments for refugee families while the families work on integration and assimilation into Greek life.  Through their integration program, the families work with a social worker to get proper documentation so they can find stable work and their own housing.

The second ministry is a family integration home, called At Home Project, started by a church in Glafada, a town just south of Athens.  The purpose of this home is to assist refugee families as they integrate into Greek life.  This integration home is very similar to the one run by Faros, only At Home Project has the capacity to house more families and allow them to stay longer.  Refugee families are given about a year of living in a shared apartment with other families as they begin the integration process.  The apartment also has a small library and a clothing/baby supply distribution room to assist the families while they are living there.  Although a Greek social worker helps the families with all the official paperwork that needs to be processed, the Glafada church needs someone to be in the home regularly to build strong relationships with them, and help advise/encourage the family through the process.  They would also like someone to teach English to the families (which is right up my alley!).

One thing is clear with both ministries: they reach out by forming genuine relationships with those they are serving.  I do not speak Greek or Farsi.  I cannot assist with any legal documentation.  But both churches seek to form strong bonds with these families and build trust.  It is only through these relationships can Christ's love be shared.  It is not about proselytizing; preying on the vulnerable in their time of need. It is about reflecting the love of Christ. It is about sharing hope and light in a place plagued by darkness and hopelessness.