It’s been 3 weeks since we came back to Scotland. While we’re looking forward to getting back to Malawi, we know that that’s uncertain for now. Maybe it’s longing to be outside in warmer weather, but I can’t help noticing some parallels between cross-cultural living and life on ‘lockdown’. So, with a mostly humorous tone, here are some similarities:
1. Your friends and family relationships become screen-shaped
For 15 months, and with the exception of Christmas with the in-laws, our social interactions with friends and family in the UK have been done online. We’re quite familiar with pixelated siblings and the awkward “You go”, “No, you go” when the audio lags.
Sometimes the technology frustrates and just adds to the distance but, while it’s no replacement for time together, it’s a social lifeline during time apart. That is unless you have children and are talking with another family – then the best you can hope for is fractured conversation while the children pull faces at each other while using filters to become dragons and wear puppies on their heads. In the end, you take what you can get.
2. Church, but not as you know it
I’ve worshipped in churches in Europe, Africa and Asia. The routines are similar, the songs and teaching can sometimes even be the same, but it is undeniably different. Even when you share a language, that difference leaves you feeling somehow isolated. I find it can be the same with ‘online church’. The people, the songs, the places are familiar, identical even, but different. There’s a bitter-sweet element to that also, where the similarity reminds you of what’s changed and of what you’re missing.
That said, I’m not sure it’s culturally appropriate to go to church in your pyjamas or pick-up an evening service with a glass of wine in many places other than online church.
3. A keen interest in toilet roll supplies
In Malawi, I was not only aware of the toilet roll supply at our house, but also in my office drawer and in the car glovebox. While stockpiling in the UK made supply uncertain, my concern in Malawi was always unpredictable demand.
4. Haircuts are a big deal
You don’t notice until it’s too late, but eventually you wish you’d had one more haircut before lockdown/travelling. Eventually you’ll see yourself on a video chat and realise and there’s only so much hair you can cut off with your webcam before people notice the top of your head is missing.
We have a few haircut stories from our time in Malawi. I cut Jacqueline’s hair once, but that’s a story for marriage counselling, not here.
Sitting in a packed barbers where people were queuing just to watch my hair cut should have been a warning. When I dared ask for scissors a confused conversation ensued before an older sage-like man stepped forward with confidence. ‘Scissors, yes.’ he said. My relief was short-lived as they tried to piece together a working pair from broken relics in a drawer, before someone nipped out the shop and came back with a pair of blunt kitchen scissors. More hair was plucked than trimmed, but we got there, sort of.
5. Well-made plans, says who?
Nothing happens at night in Malawi and with long spells without electricity we were sure we’d read more, learn more, be more productive. I read precisely zero more books last year than when my evenings were filled with scheduled activities.
I have no lockdown bucket list, but I still have that lingering feeling (that many of us probably do) that I should be making better use of the time. Just like all these people having their ‘best life’ on lockdown learning Croatian and the French horn. Only it doesn’t work. Less ‘freedom’ is no guarantee of more time.
Maybe I could get more done, or maybe I could ignore that social media mantra and just keep it together as best I can as a dad, a husband and an individual.
This is clearly no missiological treatise and you shouldn’t read more into it than its poor humour deserves. In all seriousness though, life has changed a lot for all of us, and very quickly. If this was to be a planned cross-cultural transition you’d spend time preparing for the adjustment and learn to be patient with yourself as you settle in. This wasn’t planned, but we can be kind on ourselves in the transition. Stay home, stay safe, stay sane. x
Comments
Add Your CommentVery perceptive, as always, Gary. I enjoy your blog posts.
nice to hear from you, sorry you couldn’t be with s this month in Galloway