Sunday, April 10, 2011

Making changes as I go

It’s April! We are in the 9th month of living in the Philippines, instead of in the U.S. It’s 4th quarter, a perennially crazy time of the school year. It is also Lent, with just a couple of weeks left before Easter. For me, Lent is often a time of self-evaluation. I generally have one habit that I’m focusing on forming or breaking, but I also tend to discover other places in my life that are ripe for change. Changing cultures and teaching in a new school, as we have been doing, are also experiences that force you to learn and to notice areas where you need to grow. So we are in a season of self-awareness and (hopefully) of growth.

Random bonus picture 1- A butiki in our sink
There is, however, a tricky temptation going on for me. This is a temptation that crops up for me almost any time I face the challenge to change, but it is especially alluring in times like these—at the end of the school year, 9 months into a year of transition, at the end of Lent. And the temptation goes like this:

When I see a change that I need to make in my life or teaching, I have this tendency to think that it will be… too difficult, or too confusing, or too embarrassing, or… to make the change this year. Maybe next year, when I set up a new classroom, when I’m living in a different house, when I’ve had a summer’s break, then I will pick up and implement this change. If I try to do this now, I’ll have to explain myself (and how I’ve been wrong), and that’s so awkward. If I don’t explain, I’m sure that the people around me will be thinking about how wrong I’ve been, and judging me for which of my many problems I’m fixing (and which I’m not). Or they’ll be thinking how silly I look, trying so clumsily to make a change I’m not good at yet. Or I’ll think that if I try to do this now, it won’t work. The students won’t respond right—I’ve been training them differently all year, after all. Or I’m in the middle of other habits, and I don’t know how to begin doing this new one. I’ll sit and think about it more first. I’ll change later, at a ‘fresh-start’ kind of moment, when change is easier.
Random bonus picture 2- Sunset from the reef site at Outdoor Ed.

Yeah, right. Laying these thoughts out in words makes it SO obvious that they are lies. Ridiculous lies, at that. And I know better! But it’s still easy for me to be caught by these thoughts and lulled into inaction. Which, of course, is what part of me wants, since making a change does mean admitting I’ve been wrong and re-forming habits. Which isn’t easy. It’s so much more comfortable to be lured into procrastination. So much more comfortable, and so dangerous… 

Lord, help me to change when you show me a better way, right away, not later. Teach me to try a new path without fear because it will bring me closer to You, the source of my identity and security. Help me to start… with what I know I need to do today.

Random bonus picture 3- Chuck Howard, missions pastor from Parkview Comm.Church, visiting the 3 PCC-supported families serving in Manila-- the Ruchs, the Hendersons, and us!


Saturday, April 2, 2011

Tropical Colors

by Laura 
Recently I have noticed that something unexpected has been happening to me this year. As I live in Manila, in the Philippines, in a tropical country, my perspective on color is beginning to change.

 
I am not a visual artist. My awareness of the colors, designs, and styles around me is amateur at best. I do, of course, have certain preferences. I tend to like muted, deep colors—blues and greens and purples. I generally like homes, rooms, clothing, and paintings with understated color schemes. Colors that would be advertised as "tropical" in a store catalog are generally not what I would choose for my home or wardrobe. Those preferences haven’t suddenly disappeared, but I’m learning that they have been environmentally influenced! (Who’d have known? Well, maybe an art major would have, but not me!)

 









Now I'm living in a new environment-not the American Midwest but a tropical Pacific island. In Manila, pretty much everything is brightly colored. It’s tough to find clothes in the colors I usually buy. Clothing here tends to be in very bright colors, with lots of hot-this/that/the other, or almost-neons. This is for everybody—men, women, old, young. The houses here are brightly painted—turquoise or yellow or green, with deep red roofs. And commercial areas like malls almost assault the eyes with their contrasting, competing signs and decor.

In Chicago, I would probably find all of this garish, if not downright ugly. But not so much here—and that’s what has surprised me. I've decided it's because of the environment. The tropics work with a different color palate. The greens around here are everywhere, overtaking everything else. There are many hues, but the plants seem to favor the bright grass-green end of the spectrum over the deep pine-green side. On a clear day, the sky’s blue is stunning. Most flowers are bold—hot pink or brilliant yellow or bright orange-and there are flowers everywhere. One of my favorite trees is a flame tree—the whole top bursts into glowing red flowers when the tree is in bloom. When the sun is out, everything shines back until you could be swimming in color.

Here, in the tropics, houses that look tasteful, beautiful, and elegant in the States would look washed-out and faded. They’d hardly even register to the eye when you walked down the street! Here, the houses that are beautiful, tasteful, and elegant are the ones that people have painted brightly to show boldly among the colors around them. And the people themselves are the same. Bright clothes don’t look garish—even on a quieter introvert—they look right. I’m fairly sure that I often look washed out, with my current “classically understated” wardrobe.

My favorite color is not going to suddenly become hot pink. However, my eyes and color sense are adjusting to their new setting. I love the new kind of beauty I see.