Yesterday was the last official day of mission work for the trip. Today was a travel day to Chicago. We plan to see a production of Shakespeare's "As You Like It" tonight (I have SUCH forebearing co-workers)then fly home tomorrow.
As I look back on the trip, and this blog in which I've chronicled my hopes and misgivings, I realize that I have focused almost exclusively on one of the people-groups with whom we have been working - Burmese exiles - to the exclusion of the other group of foreigners - Yankees. The permanent staffer from Experience Mission, our three summer staff leaders, and the other two members of our group are all from Indiana. I must say that, without exception, they have been wonderful, polite, energetic people who clearly love the Lord, and I think we were probably wise to let their state back into our country.
Granted, they need diction lessons. Their pronunciation is all elbows that strike the ear at odd angles, and they flatten out their vowels as if they'd run the words through a mangle and broken their backs. Lest you think I'm being unkind, bear in mind that just the other day I read about a survey which shows that people consider a speaker with an accent less trustworthy () so I'm just trying to help these brothers and sisters out by encouraging them to learn the benchmark English we speak in the Republic of Texas. Also, one of them actually asked me what the Alamo was, so clearly a course on Texas history and mythology is in order.
All kidding aside, it has been a great experience to work with Sara, Mandi, Lauren, Ralleigh, Brittany and Katie. All of them are college students but Mandi, Lauren and Ralleigh are staffers for Experience Mission, which means they've been in charge. As someone who teaches kids their age, it was an exercise in trust to take orders from their demographic. I must say they repaid my trust ten times over: they were competent, gracious, hard-working and knowledgeable. In fact,this referesher course on how to occupy the position of learner may have been one of the greatest blessings this trip has brought me so far.
It is mid-afternoon and I'm tired. I don't want to start nodding off during the ambic pentameter this evening; I get to see about one good Shakespeare play in a good year and I want to have lots of energy for this one. Accordingly, I'm going upstairs to take a nap. I'll blog more tomorrow - and probably for a few days afterward - about sweaty-soaked clothes, palm-reading and the gap between intention and action. Right now I'm going to engage in what my friend and former student Jeremiah Bailey refers to as the spiritual discipline of napping.
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