Palm trees and chopsticks and waking up to the sound of crowing roosters all feel as normal to me now as trudging through snow on on my way to class once did, but every once in a while I'm given a vivid reminder that I'm not in Canada anymore. Take the drive home yesterday for example. As I waited to turn left at a busy intersection in the height of rush hour, I watched as a large pile of lumber slowly slid off the back of a very tiny truck and on to the road. The road was impassable. The light turned green, but there we were, stopped cold. As I watched the man climb out of the truck and reload his vehicle, I waited for horns to honk and tempers to flare (as surely would have happened in Canada) but nothing of the sort took place. In an act of extreme patience, dozens of drivers simply waited for 10 whole minutes until the road was clear and they could go on their way.
As I waited at that intersection yesterday, I remembered a joke that our MCC country representatives' teenaged son had made when we first arrived. "You know why the country is called Lao P.D.R. right?" Eric asked one evening over dinner, "It's the Lao motto: 'please don't rush'". Meaningless at the time, this joke is now infused with meaning on many levels. In this case, the stereotypes are true; most Lao people are calm, patient and easy going most of the time. Notorious for the high levels of anxiety I carry around with me back home, I hope and pray that I can pack a little of that Lao style patience in my suitcase for the trip home.
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I appreciate the ability to just sit. If only people in Canada could understand those times when you need the time to sit, instead of always needing to do things. Music is notorious for that. Making people like me end up rushing from one thing to the next. It's awesome you're getting to sit and learn the experience of patience.
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