At sixes and sevens…

That’s the way today’s journal entry started…

Finding myself at sixes and sevens...

I got to thinking… what on earth does this expression actually mean?? How did it enter the English language?? I know how I was feeling… at odds with myself. Not sure what to do next. Not really in a funk… but… well, at sixes and sevens.

A little sleuthing, courtesy of Wikipedia, says at sixes and sevens is an English idiom used to describe a condition of confusion or disarray. It dates from the mid-1380s meaning “to hazard the world” or “to risk one’s life.”

Various states of confusion and risk are true of our household right now.

A few months ago I blogged about our “trifecta” (see link below). Several major decisions had converged upon our lives. One by one, clarity has come. One by one, decisions have been made. One by one, we’re moving ahead… into a new chapter of our lives.

That’s where confusion and risk fit in. My husband and I have made the decision to move back to our home country… after 46+ years of living abroad! We don’t have to learn another language, thankfully! But a LOT has changed — both in our home country and in our lives individually and as a couple — since we first moved overseas as almost newlyweds (we celebrated our third wedding anniversary a couple weeks after arriving in Europe a “few” years ago).

Uprooting and then resettling yet another time is filled with a myriad of decisions, emotions. Sometimes it’s overwhelming. Scary. Other times, exciting!

And then there’s a day like today… when I’m at sixes and sevens. After sharing our news with our families, we started spilling the beans to good friends. No one has been all that surprised — actually, they seem rather excited! But sharing this news face-to-face with someone yesterday and another friend today… well, the reality of this decision and all it entails keeps sinking in. Keeps becoming more and more real.

I’m already making mental lists of things I’ll miss living here in the tropics, like the daily serenade of birds I listen to each morning as I sit in my living room spending time with God. And mental lists of things I’m anxious about with our upcoming move, like WHERE will we end up living???

I’m feeling a bit like the Israelites that I’ve been blogging about lately. We’re on our own journey in the “wilderness” on our way to the “promised land.” The journey is fraught with detours, challenges, unknowns, potential misunderstandings.

Hmm… do you think God may have had me reading that portion of the Bible because He knew what was coming down the road for us?!? That there were lessons to be learned from the Israelites that would help me today?!? In the 21st century?!? I’m inclined to think YES!

Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened or afraid, and do not be dismayed [surprised, disillusioned, disappointed] for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go. Joshua 1:9

… in quietness and in trust is your strength… Isaiah 30:15

These are some of the things I’m focusing on during these topsy-turvy days. Things that I know are true. Things that will help me keep my focus on God. Things that will enable me to trust HIS plans — even though they aren’t all crystal clear to us yet! I’m confident that by doing so, there will be joy in the journey of this thing called “Life!”

Reminiscing about transitions…

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photo credit: 1.bp.blogspot.com

Ten years ago today my husband and I arrived in Thailand. Yep, we had made yet another international move, our fourth.  The first time we were 20-somethings moving into Communist Romania; next time was three years later into Austria; move #3 added a new factor (two children) as we returned to now-free Romania in our 40’s; and then ten years ago, this time in our early 60’s, to Thailand.  At least the first three adjustments occurred on the same continent… but this time… TOTALLY different continent, climate, culture, language, you name it!

We’ve learned through our moves that there are some similarities in adjusting to a new country/culture:

  • Because every country has its own unique language, learning the language of one’s new host country becomes necessary… and with that comes the sense of once again being on the level of a two-year old in terms of communicating.  It’s ever-so-hard to not be able to say what you’re thinking, to not be able to respond intelligibly to someone’s comment, to be frequently misunderstood, to not know if the increased volume and rapidity of what you’re hearing is a sign of conflict or elation or . . . .  It’s all very confusing and often quite humbling. 

    • In Romania, we would greet friends with a quick kiss on each cheek, but with Dutch and Swiss friends it was three kisses.  Here in Thailand, you do NOT touch others, but rather there’s an elaborate system of bowing one’s head and bringing the hands together, folded as in prayer.  One’s position in society (monk, doctor, etc.) and age factor into how this is done. Both in Europe and here in Asia you take off your shoes before entering someone’s home.  So we were used to that… but what’s been new for us here is that you ALSO take off your shoes at temples and many businesses (dentist, some shops, even some restaurants).
  • It’s important to go with the mindset of being a learner, an observer.  How do you greet people?  Is eye contact permissible or to be avoided?  How is respect communicated?  What rules of etiquette apply when eating?  Is there a hierarchy among people and how does that affect our behavior?  What observations can you make about the family structure?  How does the government influence its citizens?  The list goes on and on…

Being in a new country often brings out things you’ve never seen in yourself.  It’s like being in a pressure cooker… and usually you don’t know what may cause a reaction… or how or when or why!

For example, I’m usually described as a nice person… not a thief!  But one time, in Communist Romania, I actually took something that wasn’t ours.  Many things were rationed in those days, and so we — like the rest of the population — received coupons each month for basic food items (eggs, meat, oil, sugar).  In addition, we had a “subscription” to receive one liter of milk every few days.  We would take our empty milk bottle, with an identifying tag looped around the neck of the bottle, to the foyer of our university building in the morning.  Sometime during the day a new bottle of fresh milk would be delivered.  Only problem:  there were frequent times when not enough milk would be available, and so someone would go without.  More than once we’d been the “someone.”  Well, this time I’d had enough.  When our bottle was still empty after the milk delivery, I simply switched our tag with someone else’s.  Triumphant, I went upstairs with someone else’s milk and began boiling the milk (no pasteurization in those days).  In my impatience to enjoy the “prize,” I poured not-yet-cool-enough milk into the glass bottle… and yep, it broke.  I’ve always thot God has a great sense of humor, and this was one of those times in which I felt He was graciously reminding me that stealing never pays!

Another thing that is crucial to remember is that we are guests in our new country… and that “different doesn’t mean wrong.”  We often wish that things were easier, more convenient, more… well, like what we were used to back home!  I can remember a dear friend, on his first trip out of the USA, being disappointed when the small talk he made with our German waitress was received with a blank stare, followed by his confusion that she hadn’t understood him.  “Doesn’t she know English???” And then, when paying the bill, “Why don’t they want my American money?”  There was also the time we got ice cream, which is typically served in a plastic container with a small, scoop-like spoon.  “How am I supposed to eat with this tiny thing?!?”  Different. Not wrong.

Something that truly helps in cultural adjustment is humor.  Being able to laugh at yourself, not taking yourself too seriously is a BIG help.  Nowhere has this been more evident than in language learning.

  • In Romania, we had learned the verb “to know” – but had not yet learned other verbs like “to understand.”  We were in a store when the clerk asked me where I was from.  My response, “I don’t know.”  What’s your name?  “I don’t know.” A bit embarrassing, to say the least!
  • In Austria, with just a few weeks of German language study under my belt, I gathered my courage and went to the local butcher and ordered a fresh turkey for Thanksgiving dinner.  We had invited a number of international students from my language class, and were excited to be able to introduce them to one of our American traditions.  I was dumbstruck/mortified/in panic mode when, on Thanksgiving morning my husband returned from the butcher’s with my “fresh” turkey that was frozen solid.  We had to make a “few” scheduling adjustments in order to eat that day.
  • In Thailand, I often say “Thank you” instead of “Hello!”  And one Sunday, at a Thai/English church service, we both thot everyone on the worship committee was related because the order of worship listed Kuhn Joe, Kuhn Sue, Kuhn John, etc.  When we asked about this, everyone chuckled:  “Kuhn” simply is a prefix/title/polite form of saying one’s name.
  • In English:  when speaking with non-native English speakers, we’ve gotten in the habit of eliminating expressions/colloquialisms from our speech.  Consequently, we’ve forgotten how to say things in English, as strange as that may sound.  One time I said, “There’s more than one way to skin a pig (instead of cat).”  (Actually, pig makes much more sense to me since we often saw pigs slaughtered in Romania… but a cat?)  And my husband recently said, “The ball’s in her park now (instead of court).” 

Yes, adjusting to a new country, a new culture is truly an adventure!  But it’s definitely worth it! It’s yet another way to have joy in the journey of this thing called “Life!”