we are in the midst of this ministry transition with a big update coming, it only seems right to share some of my greatest (and sometimes embarrassing) stories in living cross-culturally over the last couple of decades.
When I was attending seminary in the Philippines in Baguio Charity and I were out late at night and couldn’t find a taxi back. No Uber, Knew very few people. At one point we sat on the sidewalk in a busy section of town sort of accepting the fact that we may be there all night. So sad. (lol)
When living in Nepal I once visited a woman in her village home. With my faltering eyesight I could sort of tell that she had planted some flowers in front of her modest home. I commented in my limited Nepali that the flowers looked nice. The way I spoke was understood by this woman as, “The crap in front of your house looks nice.” Actually what I said was stronger than “crap”. The woman was pretty rough and never let me live this down.
One time Charity and I were riding a motorized tricycle late at night in the Philippines. We had traveled by trike a few times before. Charity was carrying a large umbrella with a metal tip on the end of it. Somehow the umbrella fell through a hole in the floor of the trike and began to scrape against the road as we continued to our destination. In the night you could see sparks flying as the metal tip scraped against the road. Charity grabbed the umbrella and pulled it up to her lap as if it was the most normal thing ever.
I once got in a conversation with an official at the airport in Qatar about the white cane I carry as a blind person. He was going to take it from me far before I ever arrived at my gate or boarded the plane. He kept looking and looking to inspect it. He was very concerned about the cane. Me not thinking (per usual), asked, “Do you think I could really hurt someone with it? I really don’t.” He reluctantly returned the cane to me.
I led a multi-cultural gathering in St. Paul with over 100 people in attendance. I stood in front and emceed the event. My fly was undone the entire day. No one mentioned it to me.
Here in Pittsburgh I was visiting a Bhutanese-Nepali family with an American pastor and a Nepali pastor. We walked in and a family of 9 welcomed us and greeted us. We couldn’t find the person we were looking for. We had clearly walked into the wrong apartment. The family was so chill about it and the Nepali pastor found out that he grew up in the same neighborhood as them in a refugee camp in Nepal. Good thing hospitality was a thing.
Charity and I once gave a ride to a drunk guy in inner-city Minneapolis. He needed to get gas in a container he was carrying. He was about 6’5” and 350 pounds. He wrapped his entire arm around my neck from behind while I sat in the passenger seat and he was in the back. He seemed like he could strangle me at any moment. He talked nonsense and violently for a few minutes and I was certain he would never leave the car. Charity was not amused.
While teaching middle school while living in the Mariana Islands I purchased a pair of dark sweat pants to wear on Tuesday and Thursdays which is the day we had PE. All the students wore the same clothes on those days. The pants I bought were from a small mom and pop store on the island and they had a funky design on the side of them. I never paid attention to it. One day a co-teacher said, “Oh Pastor John, you have ladies on the sides of your pants. They are ballerinas.” She laughed along with several others. I continued to wear those same pants for 2 years because clearly I have no dignity.
My good friend Scott took the first Bhutanese guy we ever met to the Guthrie theater in one of his first weeks in the country. At the Guthrie you can go to the top floor and see the skyscape of Minneapolis. There is also a section where you can walk out onto a glass floor and you can see down for hundreds of feet. My friend had the young 20 year old Bhutanese guy close his eyes while he walked him out to the glass floor. He had him open his eyes and told him not to look down. He opened his eyes and it appeared that he was standing on nothing at all. He freaked out and we all laughed for minutes. That Bhutanese guy is still a good friend and full of so much life.
There are too many stories to recount but these were worth sharing. Please think less of me from these experiences. If you have a story to share about us here, please do. 😊 The Lord has been so good to us and has given us beautiful memories to cherish.
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