My 3 Month Externship in Asia
In some ways, my 3 months in Asia felt like an entire lifetime, and at the same time it flew by as quickly as just a few days. I am grateful for the people who taught me so much just through their actions, for the unexpected things I learned, and for the way God moved my heart like I’d never dreamed of.
My trip to Asia was actually the conclusion of a 9 month internship I had done in Connecticut. At the time, Asia was the only location available for my externship so I suppose you could say I went by default. Not that it mattered; I was ecstatic to get to live and work in any foreign country. I arrived in Asia with my team from Ct who planned to stay for a couple of weeks. Together, we traveled to different cities and villages; visiting minority people groups, spending time with the full time missionaries there, and experiencing/enjoying the newness of a country most of us had never seen. Needless to say, it was sad to see them go. “Stay!” I pleaded, half-joking, half-serious. “You need us to go,” our team leader told me. I knew he was right. There would be much to learn, do, and see in the next 12 weeks. As C.S. Lewis once said, “Experience; the most brutal of teachers. But you learn, my God do you learn.”
After they left, I stayed with an american family of 6 in their lovely home filled with 4 small children and lots of energy and love. They were gracious and welcoming and I loved living everyday life with them.Having already lived and done missions in this country for a number of years, their capability in living, working,and raising children in such a different country was impressive. Naturally, there was plenty of homesickness and culture shock to deal with at first, but my surroundings distracted me much of the time and eventually the unfamiliarity subsided. It’s funny to look back at those first few days when everything was so intimidating and new. I remember the frustration of trying to communicate or buy something in another language, the awkwardness of social customs I’d never before experienced, and eventually, the occasional sweet victory of knowing how to do something the “right way.” The whirlwind of homesickness, finding my way around the new city, language classes, office work, and getting to know my host family kept me busy during the day and sleeping well at night. Part of my externship included helping out with any of the administrative work the full time workers were involved in. In the first city, there was an office where they worked on translating scripture into written and various other forms. A few Asian Christians belonging to a minority people group called the Rainbow people actually lived in the apartment and dedicated most of their time to translating the Bible into their native language. One of the girls named “Lucy” patiently worked to teach me some basic language skills and through hand gestures, pictures, and a whole lot of flipping through the dictionary we managed to communicate pretty well. I remember one day we went up on the roof of the building to practice some “city vocabulary”. I was frustrated because I felt like I was so incapable of having a meaningful conversation with my new friend. After a few rounds of “What is this?” “This is an apartment.” “What is that?” “That is a street”, I decided to branch out a little. The following dialogue went something like this:
Me: (fumbling through the “religion” section of my pocket sized language book)
I like Jesus.
Lucy: (nods head, smiling at my broken grammar). Yeah, I like Jesus too.
Me. (after about 5 more minutes of looking through book) He saved me.
Lucy: Yes, Jesus changed my life.
One of the very first things I learned in Asia is that you don’t need to speak the same language to be friends. After that, Lucy and I had many more language sessions and hung out together; playing Chinese checkers or taking walks around town. We are about as opposite as is possible, and from different sides of the globe, but it turns out that didn’t matter at all and by the time I left, I knew our friendship was just as real as any I’d ever had back home.
In November I traveled with Lucy to a different city where I would spend the remainder of my time in Asia. It was a long trip (8 hours) and would be the first of many adventures on the train. I spent the next month and a half living with 3 wonderful girls who taught me how to use the bus, how to haggle at the market, how to say important things like, “I feel sick” and how to survive the everyday hassles and struggles of missionary life. Several times, I got to travel with one of my roommates to Rainbow villages high up in the mountains, far away from the smog and chaos of the overflowing cities. We’d buy chicken and veggies from the small towns at the bottom of the mountains and then hike the rest of the way up. The trails going up the mountains are steep, and twist and bend all over the place. Now, I’m not much of a hiker but the view you get while traveling to those villages is enough to shut up even the crankiest of explorers. Usually a trip to a village consists of buying food, hiking up the mountain to the village, cooking the food/visiting with the people (the villages are small so you could theoretically visit everyone in the village), eating dinner with whoever used their stove to make the food, and then sitting around until late in the night telling stories. We use 21 different stories from the Bible to share our faith with the Rainbow people. Since all of their stories and traditions are passed down orally from one generation to another, this method works pretty well. Sometimes one of the people listening to our stories will volunteer to tell one of their own. After a while the crowd thins out and we head back down the mountain or camp out in somebody’s house. The Rainbow people are super hospitable and generous.
The following is taken from an entry I wrote in my journal after one of my first visits with the Rainbow people.
“Today we hiked up the side of a beautiful green mountain to visit the Rainbows. The view was incredible (as was the pain in my lungs). The tumbling mountains, squares of rice paddies and hay fields, muddy ponds, and velvety patches of grass all melted together like a giant, perfect quilt. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like that before today. We hung out at the village, passed out a little candy, told a couple stories, helped a woman gather some rice (it was still in its yellow husks) and had a good time. I used the Rainbow’s bathroom-it was connected to the where the pigs stay. Need I say more? I offered to help a lady with her laundry but she wouldn’t let me. The villages, despite the dirt and smells are so lovely and colorful they are almost surreal. Every house, animal, shirt, bucket and rain boot looks like something from a fairy tale. More villages tomorrow. I am excited.”
By the end of December, my 3 months were just about over. I spent the last few days traveling to where I’d need to be to catch my flight, packing, and doing all my favorite things “for the last time”. The months following my return to the States have given me time to process and realize some of what I learned in Asia. I miss it everyday. I love that Asia is more to me now than just a splotch of color on a map. It is real and it has changed me.