Like A Child

"Missionaries, by the nature of their task, must become personally immersed with people who are different.  To follow the example of Christ, that of incarnation, means undergoing drastic personal reorientation.  They must be socialized all over again into a new cultural context.  They must enter a culture as if they were children -- ignorant of everything, from the customs of eating and talking to the patterns of work, play and worship.  Moreover, they must do this in the spirit of Christ, that is, without sin.  While most of us may not face situations requiring such total reorientation, the incarnation principle can also be applied effectively in family and church life."

Sherwood G. Lingenfelter

Ministering Cross-Culturally: An Incarnational Model for Personal Relationships

(Emphasis mine)

"I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, 

you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.  

Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child 

is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven."

Jesus

Matthew 18:3-4

(Emphasis mine)

It's crossing the street where I feel most stupid.

But just to be clear, before we get to that, I feel stupid a lot of the time when I'm in Thailand.  It's just part of the deal when you're learning a new culture.  And after ten years of visits I've lost count of, there's still just so much to learn.

Like how to cross the street safely.

In my own defense, there are two significant factors that increase the chance for traffic mishap in Thailand that are not in place in Canada.  One is that they drive on the other side of the road.

This shouldn't be such a big deal really.  Just imagine all traffic happening in a mirror image and you'll get the idea,  Left hand turns on a red, right hand turns swinging over to that far lane, passing on the right.  

Like that.  

I do have my international license and I have driven very briefly on the side road leading up to Hot Springs.  But I am no where near confident enough to risk driving in Chiang Mai proper.  Just imagine heading across Toronto, but everything's opposite to what you know.  Eeeeee!

But the stupid I'm talking about isn't even about about driving.  I'm talking about that basic skill we all learned before kindergarten.  

"Look both ways before you cross the street."  

We learned it so long ago that now it's instinct, right?  Before stepping out, you look to your left for the cars that could be closest to you, then you look right to make sure there's no one coming on the other side of the road from the opposite direction.  But not in Thailand.  In Thailand you have to look right first, then left.

Sounds simple.  But it's not.  I do it wrong every single time!  And the effort of unlearning that basic instinct and not feeling confident to cross the street -- that's what makes me feel stupid.  Like I'm five years old again and someone needs to hold my hand.  

But I'll get to that in a second.

The other not-in-Canada factor is the wild free-for-all attitude Thais have to driving.  

Not kidding.  

The lines on the road can be considered 'suggestions'.  Really, you can drive anywhere your vehicle might fit.  And you don't even need to be heading in the same direction as everyone else.  The shoulder can serve as a way to get to an awkward drive way or side road even if you're going the wrong way, but as long as no one is zipping up the left side going the right way.  Weaving in traffic is a given.  Small motorbikes squeeze their way through intersections wherever they can fit.  There might be as many as five people on that small motorbike, by the way.  Sometimes old rattletrap pick ups are loaded down with impossible stacks of something or other, rising high above the roof of the cab and extending way past the guard rails.   Stops signs are just meant to slow you down a little.  An orange light means 'hurry up quick and get through the intersection', and as many as possible attempt it - every time.

I'm not exaggerating.  And if you've been to another place where it's like this, you will have your own stories and description to add, I have no doubt.

So when we're out and about, especially downtown Chiang Mai or even in the smaller city of Sangkampeng, Suradet always acts as crossing guard, reminding me to wait for his signal to cross.  Yupa always reaches out to take my hand.  And actually, by now, I'm always ready with my hand to be taken, so that with the help of my two 'grown ups' I can get safely to the other side.

But the thing is, holding hands to safely cross the street is just one example of the ways I have had to accept my own novice status within this culture.   My vulnerability in something so simple as crossing the street is just a small thing compared to all that I am still learning.  

Like a child.

This has been so good for me, the way any unwanted but necessary discipline is good.  Like many high achievers, left to my natural inclinations, I would be obsessively focused on gaining status and credibility.  I long to be taken seriously, want to be seen as competent, don't mind if I'm respected for my areas of expertise.  I started this cross-cultural journey when I was 51 years old, a time when one might expect to be regarded with a certain degree of esteem, particularly if you've been a leader and a teacher for a good part of your adult life.  And by now, at 61, the gramma-sage persona temptations are there, I'll admit it.

So being thrust into a continuous learning phase of this very different, absolutely lovely in so many respects Thai culture, feeling like a child, it's done and is doing wonders for all that silly need for whatever that is that I think makes me important.

Because the truth of it is, I'm important enough to someone to make sure I get across a crazy city street safely.  There's love in this hand holding.

And it occurs to me that if for whatever reason I couldn't let myself be humbled in this way, I would probably miss out on receiving that message.   That I am loved here is equally as strong as my sense of being like a child.  And it's demonstrated in oh so many ways.  Like this.

So I guess it's also true, that it's in crossing the street that I also feel loved.

And that just makes me fill all up with wonder again at this thing we're doing; this thing Lingenfelter calls "incarnational relationship".   

Because, truth be told, in a way that's very Thai, crossing the street isn't the only time Yupa and I get to hold hands.