Taking the Time to Make a Difference

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One of the good things about the Internet is the ability to keep in touch with people over long distances. Or even to get back in touch after a long absence. Recently my wife and I received e-mail from a woman in Merida, the capital city of Yucatan, in Mexico. The sender was “our” Marukita, the 15 year old girl we met when we stayed with her family while attending an international conference of Christian Family Movements some years ago. Marukita was the only member of her family who spoke some English, so she was our primary connection with her parents and her brother and her sister. We invited her to come visit us in the United States. She accepted that invitation and lived at our house for a while. A few years later, she invited us to her wedding, and once again we stayed with her family in Merida for the celebration. Over the years, after cards and calls on birthdays and anniversaries, we fell out of the habit of keeping in touch – until a few months ago, when Marukita found us on the Internet and renewed our conversation. I wish I could describe a storybook ending here, but the news from Merida was not so good. Her marriage has ended, but she is working toward an advanced degree at a university, and hopes to make her way forward. My wife and I think about her a lot. Her picture is on a bookshelf in our home. Her future is in our prayers.

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Now that you know how fond we are of Marukita, you may understand my recent outrage at a local laundry and dry cleaning company. I went to pick up two dress shirts that were to be laundered and folded, so I could pack them for a trip. But the shirts were on hangars, even though the ticket indicated otherwise. How could this happen? A woman behind the counter explained, “Some Mexican must have done it.” I shouted my objection. She started crying and apologized. She only meant that someone who did the work could not or did not read English. Even so, her remark was insulting, a sign of the stereotype she thought she could express among us typical North American Caucasians at the counter.

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This incident leapt into my thoughts as I read a recent news release about the Youth Exchange and Study Program, which was created after September 11, 2001, to try to build bridges of peace and understanding between the citizens of the United States and countries with significant Muslim populations. The news release told the story of Ardani Prawira, who arrived from Indonesia last August with certain preconceived notions of what America would be like. Ten months later, he has changed his view, and the people he has met know that “Muslim” is not the negative stereotype some had come to believe.

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As good as the Internet is, allowing people to keep connected in far away places, so much better is the connection made between cultures by the human reality. We are connected, not by digital transmissions through cyberspace, but by Marukita and Ardani and others who take the risk of inviting someone into their home, or accepting such an invitation. Isn’t this what God has been telling us? Our God who sent Jesus to be the connection between human and divine, becoming one of us so that we could become partakers in the divine nature.

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You can learn more about AFS Intercultural Programs at www.afs.org/usa. Your family could make a great difference.

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