A rainstorm is the last place one thinks about seeing illumination, but the impossibility of this idea was disproven to me the other day.
I was driving on the interstate, Murfreesboro-bound, after a long day at work, when I ran into a torrential downpour. Insistent to reach my destination, I pushed on, though at a much slower rate than the 70 mph speed limit.
The further I drove through the storm, the more the clouds began to change. Little by little, they lightened from a blackish-grey to a lighter and lighter gray. Eventually I could see beams of sunshine breaking through the clouds.
But the rain never ceased. It became lighter at points, but not once was I able to turn my windshield wipers off. In spite of this, I soon found myself reaching for my sunglasses. What a silly notion, wearing sunglasses in the rain!
And yet the brilliance of the light reflecting against the rain made those shades so necessary to drive safely.
Isn't this like life sometimes? We complain about going through storms and torrential downpours unaware that the potential for brilliance at the end of it all is magnified by that rain that we so often curse. After all, how do you think rainbows are formed?
I think next time I'm going through a storm, I'm not going to curse the rain. I'm going to wonder how God is going to use it to completely light up my life.
Monday, July 12, 2010
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Stories. We've all got 'em.
Upon learning that I would be returning to work the day after our flight back from Argentina, a fellow student on the trip made an observation that I have been reflecting on for the past few days: we never can fully know the stories of the everyday people with which we come into contact.
Who knows if the store clerk has just returned from a wonderful adventure? Who knows what is happening in the lives of the people we pass on the street?
Working behind a cash register gives me a chance to talk to some people that I would otherwise probably have never noticed. Just in the past few days, some amazing characters have come through my line.
One old man purchased a cart full of items and could remember the exact price of every item he placed on my counter. I wonder what his story is.
One woman was buying sunless tanner for her husband, who was preparing to embark on a trip to Pakistan with another man from their church. He was changing his entire appearance in order to blend into the culture. I wonder what their story is.
One man had an amputated arm. Another was missing multiple fingers. I wonder what their stories are.
Another lady bought five or six large bags of M&Ms, each a different kind. Upon further questioning, I found out that she was using them in a team building exercise, comparing different personality types to different kinds of M&Ms. What a neat story!
The stories are endless. Everybody has a story. I wish I could listen to them all.
Who knows if the store clerk has just returned from a wonderful adventure? Who knows what is happening in the lives of the people we pass on the street?
Working behind a cash register gives me a chance to talk to some people that I would otherwise probably have never noticed. Just in the past few days, some amazing characters have come through my line.
One old man purchased a cart full of items and could remember the exact price of every item he placed on my counter. I wonder what his story is.
One woman was buying sunless tanner for her husband, who was preparing to embark on a trip to Pakistan with another man from their church. He was changing his entire appearance in order to blend into the culture. I wonder what their story is.
One man had an amputated arm. Another was missing multiple fingers. I wonder what their stories are.
Another lady bought five or six large bags of M&Ms, each a different kind. Upon further questioning, I found out that she was using them in a team building exercise, comparing different personality types to different kinds of M&Ms. What a neat story!
The stories are endless. Everybody has a story. I wish I could listen to them all.
A list of firsts
From living a month in Buenos Aires, I've experience my:
*First transcontinental plane ride.
*First overnight plane ride.
*First time being in a country whose primary language isn't English.
*First use of my passport.
*First time in a city of millions of people.
*First subway ride.
*First public bus ride.
*First taxi ride.
*First time negotiating a sale in Spanish.
*First time learning a new Spanish dialect.
*First experience with street entertainers (I love mimes!).
*First time seeing a store that's open 25 hours.
*First drink of mate (an herbal tea traditional to Argentina).
*First use of a metal straw (to drink hot tea, of all things).
*First time making empanadas and tortas fritas.
*First taste of dulce de leche ice cream (my taste buds will never be the same).
*First tour of a futbol stadium.
*First excitement about futbol (Thanks to the World Cup!).
*First visit to a ranch.
*First horseback riding experience.
*First taste of wine (or any kind of alcohol...it was gross).
*First tango lesson (Argentine tango, different than what they taught us in the US!).
*First sighting of a live armadillo! Granted, it was in a cage.
*First taste of cow intestines (chinchulines).
*First time in my life I actually wanted less meat and more vegetables.
*First tango show.
*First salsa lessons.
*First night in a club.
*First tour of a basilica.
*First time watching a dog fight break out in a cathedral.
*First play viewed in Spanish.
*First pair of Toms...that aren't really Toms. Toms stole the design from Argentina.
*First true TaeKwonDo withdrawals.
*First mosh pit.
*First true "cross cultural experience," which occured in aforementioned mosh pit.
*First tour of a mosque.
*First time sending my laundry out to be done. It smells so awesome!
*First boat ride not for pleasure (across the widest river in the world, no less).
*First time eating at Hard Rock Cafe.
*First time seeing the equivalent of a Broadway show (La Bella y la Bestia)
*First time hearing Spanish spoken with French/Italian/Asian accents.
*First trip to a casino (to change money...nothing else).
...and many more, I'm sure. These are just the few that come to mind.
Lots of firsts, hopefully not many lasts.
Yep, I'd say I had a pretty productive first trip outside of the country!
*First transcontinental plane ride.
*First overnight plane ride.
*First time being in a country whose primary language isn't English.
*First use of my passport.
*First time in a city of millions of people.
*First subway ride.
*First public bus ride.
*First taxi ride.
*First time negotiating a sale in Spanish.
*First time learning a new Spanish dialect.
*First experience with street entertainers (I love mimes!).
*First time seeing a store that's open 25 hours.
*First drink of mate (an herbal tea traditional to Argentina).
*First use of a metal straw (to drink hot tea, of all things).
*First time making empanadas and tortas fritas.
*First taste of dulce de leche ice cream (my taste buds will never be the same).
*First tour of a futbol stadium.
*First excitement about futbol (Thanks to the World Cup!).
*First visit to a ranch.
*First horseback riding experience.
*First taste of wine (or any kind of alcohol...it was gross).
*First tango lesson (Argentine tango, different than what they taught us in the US!).
*First sighting of a live armadillo! Granted, it was in a cage.
*First taste of cow intestines (chinchulines).
*First time in my life I actually wanted less meat and more vegetables.
*First tango show.
*First salsa lessons.
*First night in a club.
*First tour of a basilica.
*First time watching a dog fight break out in a cathedral.
*First play viewed in Spanish.
*First pair of Toms...that aren't really Toms. Toms stole the design from Argentina.
*First true TaeKwonDo withdrawals.
*First mosh pit.
*First true "cross cultural experience," which occured in aforementioned mosh pit.
*First tour of a mosque.
*First time sending my laundry out to be done. It smells so awesome!
*First boat ride not for pleasure (across the widest river in the world, no less).
*First time eating at Hard Rock Cafe.
*First time seeing the equivalent of a Broadway show (La Bella y la Bestia)
*First time hearing Spanish spoken with French/Italian/Asian accents.
*First trip to a casino (to change money...nothing else).
...and many more, I'm sure. These are just the few that come to mind.
Lots of firsts, hopefully not many lasts.
Yep, I'd say I had a pretty productive first trip outside of the country!
Saturday, July 3, 2010
Lessons from South America
Things I learned in Buenos Aires
*Subways are crowded. There are people on the subways who will gladly stick their hands in your pockets or purses if you do not stick your own hand in your own belongings as a safeguard. Also, when one cannot reach something to hold onto, using TaeKwonDo stances allows one to maintain at least a small sense of balance. Sadly, the same trick cannot be used while standing on the public bus.
*Mate is an acquired taste. I have definitely acquired it and will miss it greatly when I leave. I plan on buying one of the mate cups and taking it with me, even though the metal straw does burn my lips (yes, they drink hot tea from a metal straw). It's that awesome.
*I honestly sometimes can't resist the urge to call people "gringos." For example, when a member of the group is walking a few paces ahead of everyone else calling over their shoulder in English about things like how many dogs there are or what the buildings look like. My response: "Please quit being such a gringo!"
*People in Argentina love futbol (soccer). When Argentina plays in a World Cup game, the entire city stops. Shops close, restaurants turn on the sound to their TVs, and the population as a whole cheers for every goal, save, and good play. I personally am not a sports person in general, but being surrounded by such passion is invigorating! And the sheer energy after a win is enough to knock you off your feet (quite literally if you get close enough to the inevitable mosh pit)!
*There is no true stereotype that fits every single taxi driver. Every single taxi that I have been in has been different from the others, in either good or bad ways. I actually have a new appreciation for taxi drivers. They have to put up with sour natives and sometimes idiotic gringos tourists on a daily basis. Also, if a story begins "This one time when I was in a taxi cab," ten-to-one it's a story worth listening to.
*Don't take the bare minimum amount of money suggested by the trip leader. Eating out everyday (plus not being able to drink tap water) makes providing for oneself slightly more expensive than normal. Thankfully, I saved up enough to hopefully be able to feed myself and still buy some cool stuff while I'm here. (And everyone who wanted a souvenir says, "Hallelujah!")
*Knowing the words of a language isn't enough. To really thrive in a culture, you have to know every aspect of the culture. You have to know the meanings behind the utterances, not just the denotative superfluities that you can learn in a textbook. Yes, the language allows for a bridge of communication, but without knowledge of the traditions and passions of a people, don't expect to ever truly understand the complete language.
*Being homesick and missing home are two completely different things. I can miss the people back in Tennessee and still love every moment of the place where I'm at. Yes, I wish they were here with me, but my life at that time may dictate that I be away from them. And my life continues in spite of their absence. I used to rely on the presence of certain people to truly complete my life...and I got hurt pretty badly because of that. As much as I love the people in my life, they're not always going to be able to be there, but they're with me in my heart, and that's what really matters.
*PDA on the streets of Buenos Aires is almost as frequent as the dog poop on the sidewalks (and let me tell you, there is a lot of caca in this city!). Honestly, I have mixed emotions about this. The first is disgust because that's how I was raised to react. The second is a little bit of jealousy because, yeah, I'm definitely single as single gets. The third, though, is the one that I choose to contemplate: the idea that I'm in a culture where showing love(whether by making out with someone on a park bench or greeting everyone with a kiss on the cheek) is not a taboo . I wonder if their divorce rate is lower here...
*There will forever be a fight between the city and country in me. Having lived in the country my whole life, I dreamed of living in the city with all the hustle and bustle of the "fast lane." I loved visiting Nashville and Chattanooga, and moving away to college has been an awesome experience. Now, having lived in Buenos Aires for a month, I can see both the pros and cons of the city life. I love the convenience of hopping on the subway or taking a taxi to hundreds of beautiful and historic places or being able to just people-watch in the shopping district when I lack something to do. At the same time though, I have a new appreciation for country life, as well: clean air, wide open spaces and roads that I actually feel safe driving, to name a few. I've concluded that no matter where I live, a part of me will just have to compromise.
*Subways are crowded. There are people on the subways who will gladly stick their hands in your pockets or purses if you do not stick your own hand in your own belongings as a safeguard. Also, when one cannot reach something to hold onto, using TaeKwonDo stances allows one to maintain at least a small sense of balance. Sadly, the same trick cannot be used while standing on the public bus.
*Mate is an acquired taste. I have definitely acquired it and will miss it greatly when I leave. I plan on buying one of the mate cups and taking it with me, even though the metal straw does burn my lips (yes, they drink hot tea from a metal straw). It's that awesome.
*I honestly sometimes can't resist the urge to call people "gringos." For example, when a member of the group is walking a few paces ahead of everyone else calling over their shoulder in English about things like how many dogs there are or what the buildings look like. My response: "Please quit being such a gringo!"
*People in Argentina love futbol (soccer). When Argentina plays in a World Cup game, the entire city stops. Shops close, restaurants turn on the sound to their TVs, and the population as a whole cheers for every goal, save, and good play. I personally am not a sports person in general, but being surrounded by such passion is invigorating! And the sheer energy after a win is enough to knock you off your feet (quite literally if you get close enough to the inevitable mosh pit)!
*There is no true stereotype that fits every single taxi driver. Every single taxi that I have been in has been different from the others, in either good or bad ways. I actually have a new appreciation for taxi drivers. They have to put up with sour natives and sometimes idiotic gringos tourists on a daily basis. Also, if a story begins "This one time when I was in a taxi cab," ten-to-one it's a story worth listening to.
*Don't take the bare minimum amount of money suggested by the trip leader. Eating out everyday (plus not being able to drink tap water) makes providing for oneself slightly more expensive than normal. Thankfully, I saved up enough to hopefully be able to feed myself and still buy some cool stuff while I'm here. (And everyone who wanted a souvenir says, "Hallelujah!")
*Knowing the words of a language isn't enough. To really thrive in a culture, you have to know every aspect of the culture. You have to know the meanings behind the utterances, not just the denotative superfluities that you can learn in a textbook. Yes, the language allows for a bridge of communication, but without knowledge of the traditions and passions of a people, don't expect to ever truly understand the complete language.
*Being homesick and missing home are two completely different things. I can miss the people back in Tennessee and still love every moment of the place where I'm at. Yes, I wish they were here with me, but my life at that time may dictate that I be away from them. And my life continues in spite of their absence. I used to rely on the presence of certain people to truly complete my life...and I got hurt pretty badly because of that. As much as I love the people in my life, they're not always going to be able to be there, but they're with me in my heart, and that's what really matters.
*PDA on the streets of Buenos Aires is almost as frequent as the dog poop on the sidewalks (and let me tell you, there is a lot of caca in this city!). Honestly, I have mixed emotions about this. The first is disgust because that's how I was raised to react. The second is a little bit of jealousy because, yeah, I'm definitely single as single gets. The third, though, is the one that I choose to contemplate: the idea that I'm in a culture where showing love(whether by making out with someone on a park bench or greeting everyone with a kiss on the cheek) is not a taboo . I wonder if their divorce rate is lower here...
*There will forever be a fight between the city and country in me. Having lived in the country my whole life, I dreamed of living in the city with all the hustle and bustle of the "fast lane." I loved visiting Nashville and Chattanooga, and moving away to college has been an awesome experience. Now, having lived in Buenos Aires for a month, I can see both the pros and cons of the city life. I love the convenience of hopping on the subway or taking a taxi to hundreds of beautiful and historic places or being able to just people-watch in the shopping district when I lack something to do. At the same time though, I have a new appreciation for country life, as well: clean air, wide open spaces and roads that I actually feel safe driving, to name a few. I've concluded that no matter where I live, a part of me will just have to compromise.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)