Friday, November 11, 2011

Thoughts on Glamourisation

 My husband is fundraising in the States for two months (the joys of working for a mission organisation...).  I miss him terribly.  To look on the bright side I thought, hey - it will be an adventure living in Africa for two months by myself, raising the three kids and surviving without my man.  I had visions of a female David Livingstone at best, and at worst I thought this will at least make a good story someday.  And then reality settled in...

I have to mow the lawn every week.  I have to figure out how to change halogen globes and gas tanks and fix towel racks that have fallen off the wall and still manage to cook, clean, do laundry, iron, parent the kids - oh, and do my regular job as well!

Today my daughter was on a school trip and on the way home the bus was involved in an accident.  It was minor, but it reminded me that tomorrow is not promised (nor is the remainder of today, for that matter).  I attended a meeting in which everyone decided to pick on Americans, for some reason.  They mocked my accent, asked me if I ate fast food every day "like a good little American" and even dared to suggest that Americans don't know what a stove is or how to cook.  For the rest of the meeting I was "The American."  I felt angry.  I felt humiliated.  I felt hurt.  I wanted to scream, "I have a name and it is not 'The American'; it's Annie!"  On the way home the car started to make funny and scary noises.  Sigh...

I came home, needing a shoulder to cry on, but the house was empty.  My husband is 17,000km away, and there are still five weeks before he comes home.   So much for adventure.  What I need is a hug.

8 comments:

Elisabeth said...

Okay. So for once, I can in all and complete honesty and accuracy say that I COMPLETELY understand how you feel. I know that feeling so well it's like the oldest, most familiar friend I have. I've been missing my husband a lot lately too. My body literally and physically aches to be hugged. To hug HIM. So I get it. I get it very much.
Wanna get some ice cream and an Americano? This time I want pistachio. Don't know why. It just sounds good today.

Anna said...

Yes, please! Lots of ice cream and a grande Americano!!! :-)

N said...

That is so upsetting reading what happened in that meeting! Shame on all of those people!!

Amaris in Wonderland said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Amaris in Wonderland said...

I don't know how i found your blog, but i am glad i did!

I can totally relate. I'm an American living in central Brazil, and have been "Aquela Americana" (that American woman) for almost 5 years. Even in the apartment building where i live! :(

I am also subjected to the "all Americans eat is McDonalds, and don't know how to cook or use a stove" stereotyping, too. In addition, the common consensus is that i am an anomaly because i am not obese [‘like every other American’].

It's frustrating and demeaning, but God knows what we are going through & we can ask Him to be our buffer when we've had enough.

I don't know if it will ever get easier, but i remind myself that Joseph hung in there for the better part of his adult life, as did Daniel. I found great comfort in doing the Daniel study by Beth Moore. Perhaps your husband can pick it up for you while he's in The States? :)

Here's a virtual hug from a kindred spirit.

Anna said...

I am also considered to be somewhat of an "anomaly" because I don't fit neatly into the American "box". I guess that's a good thing...

I did the Daniel study last year; it was amazing. I should probably go back and read through my notes, though, so thanks for the reminder!

Hang in there! I'll be thinking of you. It's nice to "meet" you and realise there are others who understand!

Dan Erickson said...

HUG!

I'm reaching as far as I can in your direction.

wakeupcowboys said...

Always being thought of as the nationality we are is part of the deal of living in another country. I was always the American while living in Ecuador. My colleague in the conservatory of music in Loja, Ecuador, was "la sovietica," (Russian) and our friends, the Wisniewskis, are our Polish friends, even though they've lived in the States for many years. That is the deal.