Shanda the Immigrant

I have spent much of my time in Jamaica being very careful of what I say and how I share my experiences here. I've been reluctant as to not sound over dramatic to my Jamaican friends but then in the same breath not wanting to belittle my experience to my Canadian friends who have no frame of reference.  Just recently I was inspired to just share my thoughts and feelings when I received a letter from a friend that shared stories of her missionary experience with me.  I realized that it's okay that I feel these things and it's okay that I'm not fully Jamaican or even fully Canadian anymore.  I see life as both.

I remember the first time I went to Immigration to get permission to stay on the island long term.  I had just got married and therefore had full right to call Jamaica home.  After filling out some paper work, handing in my passport, it was done.  With a stamp my title here changed from "visitor" to "Landed Immigrant."  I never thought I would be an Immigrant.  It is kind of an "in" but not "of" title.  Like, we are letting you stay here, even though you belong somewhere else.

I've gone through my phases since being an "immigrant."  Phase one: Bewilderment of the culture.  Phase two: Loving the novelty of the culture.  Phase three: Confusion and frustration with the culture.  Phase four: Resentment of the culture.  Phase five:  Missing my culture.  Phase six: Acceptance of the culture.  Phase seven: Be the Culture.  Phase eight: Accepting that you will never be the culture but willing to submit to the culture to save your own sanity!!

Jamaica has changed me and I would say for the better in most ways.  I do feel like I really don't put expectations on anything anymore.  I mean, it will get done when it gets done and everyone will accept that it's not done.  There are things that I have got used to in Jamaica that I don't think I would want to change anymore.  One of them being the sense of community I feel here.  We have an amazing church and they are identified by their hospitality.  There is this open door feeling and I know I'm welcome into their lives as I hope they know they are welcome into mine.

Somethings I miss are simple:  I miss the general feeling of safety.  I know crime happens in Canada but it seems like death, corruption and violence are apart of the everyday life here.  If it's not happening to you, then it's happening around you or you can't help but hear of the latest on the street.   I have witnessed murders, I've seen dead people, I've been robbed by gun point, had our home and church robbed and I've witnessed corruption.  Those things have changed me also.  Yes, my desire for justice has increased but a side effect has been the toll it has taken on my thought life.  I didn't realize how much it had effected me until I went back to Canada last October.  I had gone to Starbucks to spend some time alone, reading and drinking a coffee.  I found a perfect seat by the window just before a huge rush of people came in.  It was packed in what seemed like seconds.  A man came and sat on the other side of the window outside.  I noticed him glancing in my direction several times.  I began to feel really uncomfortable, and then I felt my heart start beating out of my chest as my safety radar was going off.  Was he going to rob me, or worse, abduct me as I was going to my car??   I knew I had to get out of there.  As he was turned around, I quickly packed up my stuff, put on my coat as smooth and quick as any ninja would and I jetted out the side door running with all I had to my car.  I had already pressed the unlock key, got in and quickly locked the doors. I peered back at the place of my torture, and saw the man swiftly get up, run inside and steal my chair.  Yup, he wanted my seat!

I think I have had a severe reaction to all I have seen happen in Jamaica.  Jamaicans seem to be quite calm and collected about all that goes on around them.  They can decipher when they are in trouble and when they have to use wisdom from when they are safe.  I don't have these skills.  I have gone from a place in Canada where I don't have to lock my house doors to where I am barred in to a house with bolts and gates.  I guess I don't know where to draw the line.    I do miss the safety of my childhood, and even more I ache that my daughter won't see life the same way I did as a child.  That she probably won't ride her bike up and down the street to a neighbourhood friend.  Or that it is likely she will be confronted with the horrible things that human beings do to each other on a more regular basis.  On the other hand she will experience many more days playing on a beach.  She will also grow up with a great sense of community and belonging.  And we will prepare ourselves the best that we can to answer all her questions.

This brings me back to my friends letter:  One realization they came to as a couple was that the only safe place for us is heaven.  We can't be overcome by fear here on earth, we keep moving, living and pursuing the people that God loves so much.  We serve them, love them, give to them and that is our calling until our last breath here.  The amazing truth is that THIS IS NOT IT!!  One day we will see justice brought to this earth and it will be complete.  But we can't expect to always see it here.

Oh, and the second safest place for us, is right where God asked us to be.