A funny thing happened...

It’s official. My skin, my hair, and my clothes all HATE my current home. As for me, I like it just fine, thank you. Though, I do have to keep a good sense of humor about, well, pretty much everything. For instance, today I took my clothes that I had hand-washed (yes, again-but that’s ANOTHER story) off the drying rack, and they were cardboard-stiff; which is basically how my hair feels these days, as well. I’m just grateful I haven’t lost chunks of it yet, as one of my roommate’s did her first year here. Not to worry though: in her case, the main spot has supposedly grown back as baby-fine hairs and is well on its way to recovery.

Then, there’s my face, which is reacting to the pollution in the air and hard water like it did when I first hit puberty. Gotta love a pockmarked-face at the age of twenty-eight (an age which, by-the-way, makes me older than at least two-thirds of the office staff). Add on the splotches covering my body left by every single mosquito bite…all in all, the talk I heard from author Philip Yancey tonight about even the “ugly” being worthy of love hit very close to home (okay, that wasn’t his whole point, but he did mention it at least once).

Actually, tonight’s adventures (for lack of a better word) are a great example of the importance of finding the humor in many-a-situation. First off, there was our driver. A sweet man, who MUST have just gotten his license, because there is no way he has been driving in this city for any length of time: He actually obeyed all the “rules,” such as driving slow and not trying to get around every moving thing in front of him. Of course, this was his downfall, as we were twenty minutes late to the service (which we found out, shortly thereafter, didn’t actually matter; however, more on that later); he hit an auto (our version of the tuk-tuk or rickshaw-a covered motorbike with a bench attached behind the driver’s seat)…and kept driving; and then, he hit a man! Yep, “we just hit a man” were the exact words I used in response to my friends’ confused looks. Luckily, the man was large and, despite yelling angrily at our poor driver, he was smiling as he walked on. I’ll spare you the rest…but really, if we didn’t laugh, we’d have cried.

Now, the humor in the speaking event where Philip Yancey, author extraordinaire, was the guest of honor began with realizing we were attending a full on church service (read: no idea when, or if, it will end), rather than simply a speaking engagement. And it was NOT in English for the first hour; thus, our being late was insignificant. But once the actual program started, it was interpreted from English. The hilarity of these next couple of hours was mainly due to the interpreter, who seemed to translate rather liberally and added in several “Hallelujahs” that Mr. Yancey had most definitely not.

We also enjoyed the use of the phrase “And next is Mr. Philip Yancey, but first…” or “And now for Mr. Philip Yancey…right after a brief word from…” which we heard at least four times (and one and a half hours) before “now” came to pass. Sharing about the event with two roommates who had stayed home helped cultivate a fuller appreciation of the evening; especially, as we found ourselves laughing throughout our entire re-telling.

Working amidst the dark world of human trafficking and slavery, it is God’s grace that allows us to maintain a sense of humor. Mr. Yancey also spoke on this grace, and how it can be found in: the smile exchanged with a small child on a home visit (as opposed to making small children cry because they can’t figure out if I’m a ghost or something less freakishly scary); the invitation to share a meal at a new national friend’s house; a sweet and encouraging note from a friend back home I have severely neglected to communicate with, an auto driver willing to take me for a fair price on the first try, a co-worker who referred to himself as “Uncle Hugs” in an office-wide congratulations note to another co-worker; the local market selling cheddar cheese, of the non-spreadable variety; or having the electricity stay on all day; just to name a few. Seriously, there is plenty I find not-so-amusing, which makes it even more important not to dwell too long in the dark places. Been there, done that. No thank you.

Humorous images (well, to me, at least):

Okay, so I know I'm not five, but seriously? If this was the name of a soup at Marie Calendar's, I'm fairly certain the cauldron would remain full for the entire evening.

A friend sent this to me from our Diwali celebration. The over-dramatic grimace most definitely comes from growing up in an insurance agent's house. Limbs lost due to a sparkler mishap, however, is one statistic of which I have yet to be made aware...

The picture below is from my layover in Korea. Again: REALLY? Why is this a slogan? Did I say these were humorous images? Because this one kinda makes me sad...

"Stop thinking. Feel it!" (for those who cannot read the small print)