A Different House

Not too long ago, we sold our home in East Lansing. It was a house we lived in for 5 years; the only home our boys remember. On moving day, all four of us sat on the floor in our empty living room and shared memories of the joy we experienced together in that home. Our living room dance parties, racing matchbox cars on a track that ran all the way down the stairs into the kitchen, playing Jenga at the dining room table, fooseball tournaments, dodgeball games. Regular, fun family stuff.

But for the past few days, we stayed in a different house; much different from any house in which our family has resided. It was the home of a Bhutanese family; a young couple, their baby, and an elderly mother-in-law.  They had recently been resettled in Pittsburgh after 18 years in a Nepali refugee camp. Our time with them was part of our training: a cultural immersion that involved no car, no telephones, no computers, no contact with the outside world. Instead, we stayed in a home with this very kind family, whose cultural norms are significantly different than our own. Granted, it was only a few days, but during that time, I did learn a lot about the experience of parenting children in the midst of a different culture.

Exposure to violence on television, norms for eating, and expectations regarding sleep and discipline were significantly different. While I try to keep my kids from watching very much television at all, in this home, the television was on almost constantly, and included graphically violent Nepali movies. The children were served large amounts of food (good food), but they couldn't eat as much as was expected, and this caused significant stress for the young woman who was kind enough to prepare it for us. Dinner was not served until nine at night, so the kids weren't able to go to bed until 10pm, which resulted in very tired children in the morning.  In addition, our kids were expected to stay very quiet, and the family spoke about the importance of very strict discipline.  Finally, I was instructed to stay home with the children throughout the days, while Joel went with the father to do the work of the church.  It was a very odd change of roles; I was not able to leave the house at all, but Joel went out to do ministry with the man of the house, who served as pastor of a Nepali church.

We learned a lot from this faithful family, about the challenges they experienced as refugees, the incredible generosity they show in caring for new refugees, the commitment they demonstrate to faith, service, and family. Both of these young people dedicated themselves to caring for their community, feeding new refugees, serving as translators, and helping struggling Nepali youth. The young man had served as a physics and math teacher in the refugee camp in Nepal, as a social worker in Pittsburgh, as a hospital translator, and now as a pastor. In addition, they opened their home to us, while caring for a nine month old baby and a seriously ill mother-in-law, who is on oxygen and has numerous medical challenges.  Yes, their culture was very different than ours, and I honestly couldn’t imagine giving as much of myself to others as they do.  

But, at the same time, we learned about ourselves and about the very real struggles we will face: challenges with gender roles, discipline, expectations, and the sheltering of our kids.  We will not be able to protect our children in the ways that are comfortable for us.  This will not be easy, and these past days helped me to realize this truth. 

Another very interesting reality is that the family we stayed with desperately wants to send their baby daughter back to Bhutan for her education; they told us that they do not like American culture or American schools, and they don't want to expose their daughter to this culture. It is not just hard for us Americans, as we choose another culture, to adjust.  It is also terribly hard for people who have no other choice, like refugees, who have to raise their children in another culture.  I suppose, as we deal with the challenges of gender roles, discipline, exposure to violence, issues around food, and other cultural differences, we will need to remember that cross-cultural encounters are not just hard for us; they are a challenge for many.  

I have many critiques of American culture; I am deeply saddened that we often care more about football games than famines, that we often care more about appearance than reality, that we often care more about time management than developing authentic relationships.  I see these characteristics in myself - a focus on the frivolous, the desire to project competence even when overwhelmed, choosing deadlines over friendships.  But, I will miss my culture in ways I didn't realize until recently.  I will miss understanding the norms, being able to accurately interpret my surroundings, connecting with people who have shared cultural values.  Even as I often criticize my culture, it is my culture, and I am beginning to understand the way that it shapes me, and keeps me emotionally safe.

For refugees, there is no choice but to leave the culture that they know and to encounter one that can be remarkably jarring.  I deeply appreciate this family opening their very "different house" to us, even as I am aware that we can chose to leave, and re-enter, our own culture in ways that are much easier for us than for many people around the world.