September 27, 2006

• Culture shock??

   

  Hmmm…. It’s been an interesting few weeks, to put it mildly. Maybe it’s just the fact of realizing I truly am living here. Permanently. Or maybe it’s the newness of teaching. Or just maybe, culture shock??

  I was informed over the weekend that culture shock works in strange ways, but a sure-fire way to tell if you have it is if you think everything is just wierd. Oh. So maybe that explains why I’ve been confused over why people drive trucks down here every day that are only seen in big truck-pulls up north. Or why I’ve wondered how in the world it can be natural to talk with such a southern accent. And why little southern towns can be so very laid back, content with only a Walmart to its name, and two Dollar Trees for extra measure. Driving an hour or two for anything else isn’t unhandy, it’s just how it is. To state just a few differences…

  God is so faithful though, and my heart has been so blessed over the weekend… Quite a few people told me they’ve been praying for me, and I know that is carrying me… I am so grateful to those of you who are – you know who you are, and consider yourself hugged!! And my family receives the award for the most wonderful family ever!!! Seeing you all this weekend was  a heart massage…

  I’ll close with a few parting comments… How could I not mention school? For that appears to by my very life these days…

  Oh, the things children do and say when they are trying to make excuses. Below is a prime example:
     I was walking around the classroom, checking on the kids as they were doing their assignments. I came upon one child, lost in his own little world of erasers turning airplanes and pencils becoming giants. Great imagination, I tell you, I could almost read his thoughts, so expressive it was.
     He suddenly saw me standing beside his desk, and a frantic expression crossed his little face. He paused for a second, then furiously began scratching his shoulder.
     “Oh, these fleas!!!”  he said, alternating between scratching his shoulder and pausing to see if I was being convinced.
     “So you have fleas??” I asked, with a horrified tone, but a knowing look on my face, playing along in his little game.
     “Oh yeah! My dog has fleas, I think, and I play with him all the time. So I think I have fleas too!”
     “Hmmmm… Well, let’s try to work on your studies, okay? Fleas can be scratched later.”
     Five minutes later… I observed him again. Papers were being worked on. The fleas must have been as alive as Paul Bunyan.  

  

   

   

   

  • 9:50 pm
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