"Fiona in India" ... not for much longer
There are only a few days left in which Fiona will still be in India, where she has been for the past nine months, spending the majority of her time at a place called Prema Vasam (see the links on the right to Fiona's blog and more information about Prema Vasam). This period in a gap year -- or indeed any reasonable length of time spent living in another culture -- is always challenging.
She is already having to say goodbye to people whom she has come to love as new friends, not knowing whether she will see (or indeed hear from) them again. A country which has become home is not going to be home for much longer. This sadness is normally mixed with excitement about seeing friends and family at home again after a long and tiring journey, and no doubt she is very much looking forward to being back in the UK and (probably) sharing all about her time away.
'Reverse culture shock' is a much talked-about phenomenon in missionary circles. Life in the UK can be seen in a very different light upon return from a less-developed country. In K.P. Yohannan's excellent book, Revolution in World Missions, economist Robert Heilbroner describes what would have to be surrendered by a typical Western family to achieve a living standard typical of one in the two-thirds world, where Fiona has been living, which Yohannan describes as 'an accurate description of the lifestyle and world (in India) from which I came':
'We begin by invading the house of our imaginary family to strip it of its furniture. Everything goes: beds, chairs, tables, television sets, lamps. We will leave the family with a few old blankets, a kitchen table, a wooden chair. Along with the wardrobes go the clothes. Each member of the family may keep in his wardrobe his oldest suit or dress, a shirt or blouse. We will permit a pair of shoes for the head of the family, but none for the wife or children.
'We move to the kitchen. The appliances have already been taken out, so we turn to the cupboards... The box of matches may stay, a small bag of flour, some sugar and salt. A few mouldy potatoes, already in the bin, must be rescued, for they will provide much of tonight's meal. We will leave a handful of onions and a dish of dried beans. All the rest we take away: the meat, the fresh vegetables, the canned goods, the crackers, the candy.
'Now we have stripped the house: the bathroom has been dismantled, the running water shut off, the electric wires taken out. Next we take away the house. The family can move to the tool shed... Communications must go next. No more newspapers, magazines, books---not that they are missed, since we must take away our family's literacy as well. Instead, in our shantytown we will allow one radio...
'Now government services must go. No more postmen, no more firemen. There is a school, but it is three miles away and consists of two classrooms... There are, of course, no hospitals or doctors nearby. The nearest clinic is ten miles away and is tended by a midwife. It can be reached by bicyle, provided the family has a bicycle, which is unlikely...
'Finally, money. We will allow our family a cash hoard of five US dollars (less than £3). This will prevent our breadwinner from experiencing the tragedy of an Iranian peasant who went blind because he could not raise the $3.94 which he mistakenly thought he needed to receive admission to a hospital where he could have been cured.'
We do not know what effect re-entry will have on Fiona. In my experience, the 'stress' of returning from different cultures has manifested itself in markedly different ways on different occasions and I'm thankful for family and friends' (especially the church's) sensitivity to this. As we pray for Fiona's safety and for God's working in and through her life during these last days in India, may we also pray that we are sensitive as she returns to Purley. In these post-Pentecost days, may we be aware of the Spirit's continuing work in our lives, and show love, peace, patience, kindness, gentleness and more to Fiona as we meet her.
She is already having to say goodbye to people whom she has come to love as new friends, not knowing whether she will see (or indeed hear from) them again. A country which has become home is not going to be home for much longer. This sadness is normally mixed with excitement about seeing friends and family at home again after a long and tiring journey, and no doubt she is very much looking forward to being back in the UK and (probably) sharing all about her time away.
'Reverse culture shock' is a much talked-about phenomenon in missionary circles. Life in the UK can be seen in a very different light upon return from a less-developed country. In K.P. Yohannan's excellent book, Revolution in World Missions, economist Robert Heilbroner describes what would have to be surrendered by a typical Western family to achieve a living standard typical of one in the two-thirds world, where Fiona has been living, which Yohannan describes as 'an accurate description of the lifestyle and world (in India) from which I came':
'We begin by invading the house of our imaginary family to strip it of its furniture. Everything goes: beds, chairs, tables, television sets, lamps. We will leave the family with a few old blankets, a kitchen table, a wooden chair. Along with the wardrobes go the clothes. Each member of the family may keep in his wardrobe his oldest suit or dress, a shirt or blouse. We will permit a pair of shoes for the head of the family, but none for the wife or children.
'We move to the kitchen. The appliances have already been taken out, so we turn to the cupboards... The box of matches may stay, a small bag of flour, some sugar and salt. A few mouldy potatoes, already in the bin, must be rescued, for they will provide much of tonight's meal. We will leave a handful of onions and a dish of dried beans. All the rest we take away: the meat, the fresh vegetables, the canned goods, the crackers, the candy.
'Now we have stripped the house: the bathroom has been dismantled, the running water shut off, the electric wires taken out. Next we take away the house. The family can move to the tool shed... Communications must go next. No more newspapers, magazines, books---not that they are missed, since we must take away our family's literacy as well. Instead, in our shantytown we will allow one radio...
'Now government services must go. No more postmen, no more firemen. There is a school, but it is three miles away and consists of two classrooms... There are, of course, no hospitals or doctors nearby. The nearest clinic is ten miles away and is tended by a midwife. It can be reached by bicyle, provided the family has a bicycle, which is unlikely...
'Finally, money. We will allow our family a cash hoard of five US dollars (less than £3). This will prevent our breadwinner from experiencing the tragedy of an Iranian peasant who went blind because he could not raise the $3.94 which he mistakenly thought he needed to receive admission to a hospital where he could have been cured.'
We do not know what effect re-entry will have on Fiona. In my experience, the 'stress' of returning from different cultures has manifested itself in markedly different ways on different occasions and I'm thankful for family and friends' (especially the church's) sensitivity to this. As we pray for Fiona's safety and for God's working in and through her life during these last days in India, may we also pray that we are sensitive as she returns to Purley. In these post-Pentecost days, may we be aware of the Spirit's continuing work in our lives, and show love, peace, patience, kindness, gentleness and more to Fiona as we meet her.