When I moved to Germany, it was into a primarily North American community of people who had lived cross-culturally, and I was prepared for a lot of culture learning. I had a steep learning curve to adjust to how Texans do life, but I actually had a lot of handholds to help learn how to fit into German life. I was adopted by my neighbours who would graciously include me in cultural events and holidays knowing I didn’t have any family around to celebrate the distinct German “Second Christmas.”
When I moved back to New Zealand, Haley picked me up from the airport with a jar of marmite and said, “Welcome home.” I remember the week I left explaining to an intermediate at church how New Zealand had become my third home and I was headed back to my home in Germany without stopping in America that was the home of my upbringing. Yesterday, I saw that girl grown up and standing as a bridesmaid in her brother’s wedding. I really treasure the chance to be a part of people’s lives long term when so many of the people in my life have been for seasons in person before indefinite pauses in between meet ups on different continents.
Givorgy is visiting me from wherever (he’s between visas right now), and it’s crazy to think about how we met in America and now have this friendship that has had hangouts on three continents in five countries. One of the benefits of having an American friend visit me is that I can point out the kiwi cultural differences and comment on what I’ve learned or have yet to figure out. Because we’ve both had learning moments, he’s a good friend to remind me to have grace when I don’t feel like I fit in well.
Weddings are an obvious moment for me to feel out of place. Even if someone says, “Oh, it’s a normal…” whatever the event might be, there will inevitably be things that I don’t realise or feel foreign to me. Fortunately, I know both the bride and the groom’s families, and the masses of friends around them are familiar with my foreign oddities. I’m also made to feel incredibly welcomed and wanted in these kinds of church spaces which still feels strange to me after so often feeling on the margins of events. Someone immediately found a spot to move a chair out of the way and make space for my wheelchair, and as I navigated to find a place among the crowd gathering for a group photo, the groom joked I could go right in front of him so I’d be seen. I easily found a spot and I didn’t feel weirdly sidelined.
My disability marginalises me a lot, but God has graciously placed me in a church home where my being in a wheelchair is never cause for me to feel isolated or excluded. People consider me in plans, and they don’t consider it a burden or a fuss. My Americanness is a bit of a running joke, and there’s a different approach in how that makes me stand out. Everyone here will make jokes and forgive me for my weird accent, and it’s never made me feel bad for being different. But it is a difference.
Most people here don’t even think about how I’m not a native, but it’s something that regularly comes up for me. Not bad, just different, and sometimes takes a bit more energy. This past week has had a couple of moments where I’ve spent extra time determining plans based on what might be interpreted as appropriate in this culture as well as for my position and role. I have zero regrets about ending up here, and I love being able to learn about different cultures and how to do life in a different place. As I go into this next season though, I’m hopeful that I can have some quality rest as I repeat some cultural traditions here that I had a steep learning curve navigating last year.
Bonus: I’m getting botox on Wednesday. My world is about to change, and I’m so keen to celebrate that. Please pray the procedure goes according to plan, but praise, praise God for getting this finally done.
