Tea and Biscuits
I arrived to Liverpool airport to find a sweet couple holding a sign with my name on it. I've always seen that on the movies, so it made me feel like a star.
As they drove me to their home, I must have seemed like a deer in the headlights...or like an American tourist. I certainly wasn't in Africa anymore. I was fascinated by the heavy accents, double decker buses, old buildings, quaint houses, and driving on the left side of the road. As soon as we arrived to their house, I took my shoes off in the back yard and wiggled my toes in the green grass. It's been four months since I've seen teen grass...or taken a hot shower...or worn a jacket and slept under a comforter!
Their first gesture of true English hospitality was to offer me a warm cup of British tea with biscuits. As I sipped on the cup, Jane asked me, "What time do you take your tea?" (It was around 5:00 in the afternoon.) My puzzled expression must have told her that I didn't understand. Isn't that what we are doing right now? This is how I learned that "taking tea" can actually mean "eating dinner!"
It all reminded me of a conversation I had with some friends around the table last Sunday after church in Burkina. I was in the capital city and went out to eat with a group where I was the only America among others from Canada, England, Scotland, and Australia - all English-speaking, but all from different cultures. They were teaching me very important things I needed to know, such as the difference between fries and chips and crisps. How I should say trousers instead of pants (which apparently refers to underwear). How pudding is any hot dessert, not necessarily the chocolate cream stuff that comes out of packaged plastic cups. How I should eat fish and chips out of a newspaper.
We started talking about a heated topic - what exactly is a biscuit. The Australian compared it to a cracker, but the English quickly corrected her and compared it to a sweet cookie. "No, biscuits are fluffy bread things that you smother with butter and eat in the morning for breakfast!" I said. The English woman quickly responded, "Ah, you mean scons (spelled as I heard it pronounced)?!" Everyone at the table got real excited and practically salivated at just the mention of the name. "Are you talking about scones?" I clarified with my American pronunciation. I think we finally got all on the the same page, but it was hilarious to me how the conversation evolved based on our different perceptions of the same word or item.
I find myself in another international community here in Liverpool at the school of tropical medicine, where 18 different nationalities are represented in my class of 60. I have already met people from Canada, Australia, Italy, Portugal, England, Wales, Scotland, and Ireland...just to name a few.
Being a part of an international community, going places and meeting people - all this has expanded my view of how people all over the world, despite their differences, enjoy community. That's the most consistent thing I notice across cultures, no matter what you think a biscuit is. That's why Africans look everyone in the eye and greet them with a handshake. That's why English have tea in the afternoon and after dinner. That's why Americans like coffee shops and sports events and parties. That's why we all need the church. We are designed and created to be in community.
As I go through this course in tropical medicine, I find it so relatable and applicable to everything I experience in Burkina. As we talk about signs and symptoms, I see names and faces. When we talk about treatment options, I think about very personal experiences at the local hospital, clinic, and maternity ward. As we share ideas, I am able to speak from experience. And as we learn new things, all the isolated clusters of information in my head are connecting to form a map of the future.
It's only been two days in England, and I've already had gooseberry yogurt, gotten off at the wrong bus stop, and learned how to say Mersey with a nice Liverpool accent. More than that, my mind and heart are bursting with new knowledge about tropical disease, the joy of experiencing yet another new place and people, and anticipation about what all these discoveries mean for the future and where God is going to lead me next.
As they drove me to their home, I must have seemed like a deer in the headlights...or like an American tourist. I certainly wasn't in Africa anymore. I was fascinated by the heavy accents, double decker buses, old buildings, quaint houses, and driving on the left side of the road. As soon as we arrived to their house, I took my shoes off in the back yard and wiggled my toes in the green grass. It's been four months since I've seen teen grass...or taken a hot shower...or worn a jacket and slept under a comforter!
Their first gesture of true English hospitality was to offer me a warm cup of British tea with biscuits. As I sipped on the cup, Jane asked me, "What time do you take your tea?" (It was around 5:00 in the afternoon.) My puzzled expression must have told her that I didn't understand. Isn't that what we are doing right now? This is how I learned that "taking tea" can actually mean "eating dinner!"
It all reminded me of a conversation I had with some friends around the table last Sunday after church in Burkina. I was in the capital city and went out to eat with a group where I was the only America among others from Canada, England, Scotland, and Australia - all English-speaking, but all from different cultures. They were teaching me very important things I needed to know, such as the difference between fries and chips and crisps. How I should say trousers instead of pants (which apparently refers to underwear). How pudding is any hot dessert, not necessarily the chocolate cream stuff that comes out of packaged plastic cups. How I should eat fish and chips out of a newspaper.
We started talking about a heated topic - what exactly is a biscuit. The Australian compared it to a cracker, but the English quickly corrected her and compared it to a sweet cookie. "No, biscuits are fluffy bread things that you smother with butter and eat in the morning for breakfast!" I said. The English woman quickly responded, "Ah, you mean scons (spelled as I heard it pronounced)?!" Everyone at the table got real excited and practically salivated at just the mention of the name. "Are you talking about scones?" I clarified with my American pronunciation. I think we finally got all on the the same page, but it was hilarious to me how the conversation evolved based on our different perceptions of the same word or item.
I find myself in another international community here in Liverpool at the school of tropical medicine, where 18 different nationalities are represented in my class of 60. I have already met people from Canada, Australia, Italy, Portugal, England, Wales, Scotland, and Ireland...just to name a few.
Being a part of an international community, going places and meeting people - all this has expanded my view of how people all over the world, despite their differences, enjoy community. That's the most consistent thing I notice across cultures, no matter what you think a biscuit is. That's why Africans look everyone in the eye and greet them with a handshake. That's why English have tea in the afternoon and after dinner. That's why Americans like coffee shops and sports events and parties. That's why we all need the church. We are designed and created to be in community.
As I go through this course in tropical medicine, I find it so relatable and applicable to everything I experience in Burkina. As we talk about signs and symptoms, I see names and faces. When we talk about treatment options, I think about very personal experiences at the local hospital, clinic, and maternity ward. As we share ideas, I am able to speak from experience. And as we learn new things, all the isolated clusters of information in my head are connecting to form a map of the future.
It's only been two days in England, and I've already had gooseberry yogurt, gotten off at the wrong bus stop, and learned how to say Mersey with a nice Liverpool accent. More than that, my mind and heart are bursting with new knowledge about tropical disease, the joy of experiencing yet another new place and people, and anticipation about what all these discoveries mean for the future and where God is going to lead me next.
Ashli, been thinking about you a lot and it's so cool to read about and hear about what's going on! :) So glad you get to take this course and it sounds like it will be really good. So neat to have people gathered from all over the place for a common purpose. I hope it's a really encouraging and invigorating time. See you in a few weeks ;) Love Rachel
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