Living in a National Park I tend to see a lot of people camping. There are many different kinds of campers, ranging from the backpacker to the RV owner. One person camps with only what he can carry on his back and the other lugs around a second home on four or more wheels. I never thought much about RVs until a few months ago.
I remember coming back from Sudan and people were asking me if I experienced "culture shock" when I arrived in Sudan. Culture shock kind of feels like a slap across the face. It hits you hard and makes you realize the difference between the way you and other people live. I honestly did not experience culture shock when I went to Sudan- or any other country for that matter- because I go in with an open mind. I am never sure what to expect so I open myself up to whatever culture is like.
The funny thing about culture shock for me is that I do always experience it when I arrive back in the United States. I come back thinking I know everything about life and culture here in the US. I am shocked when things seem different than how I remember them.
I remember coming back to Grand Rapids after several months in Nicaragua and riding my bike through a nice part of town. It was a sunny day in May when I saw the immaculately manicured lawns of fresh green grass laying out spaciously in front of mansions. I stopped my bike and planted my feet on the ground. I thought about the shacks of rotten wood people called their homes that I had seen just days prior. I thought about the mud and dirt around people's homes. Most Nicaraguans had barely enough money to buy food, let alone spend anything on maintaining something as frivolous as grass. Grass? Are we really worried about having green grass? Is that something that we even bother to think about?
The nice thing about culture shock is that, even though it hits like a slap in the face, it usually gives you a good perspective on life. The slap will usually knock some sense into you.
Coming back from Sudan, I immediately noticed our freeway system. There were only one or two other cars on an eight lane freeway. We had four lanes to choose from while we headed in one direction and the riding was smooth and fast. Just a day earlier I was riding in a rickety van on streets of clay, mud, and gravel. The roads were not only bumpy and rough, but were overflowing with life. People were walking to and fro in large numbers while still others rode bicycles around potholes. We, riding the van to the airport, could only get up to twenty mph before we had to slow down for bumps in the road or pedestrians. Now, I was riding back from the airport in the US and could do eighty mph without a real bump or pedestrian in sight.
Later on, I was driving across Indiana when two extended cab, long bed, dually trucks drove past me while they were pulling camping trailers as long as semi trailers. I was slapped in the face then and there. A few days earlier I was hanging out with families who are living in huts with straw roofs and mud walls. Now, I looked in my rear-view mirror as two trucks hauled thousands of pounds of their second homes down the road simply so they could enjoy a weekend in a different location, away from their first home. The financial aspect of the situation not only slapped me in the face but also blew my mind. We waste so much disposable income on pursuing more comfort but never towards comforting others who truly need it.
We don't need everything our culture tells us we need. We barely need anything our culture says we need. We don't need green grass to keep others thinking our life, like our lawn, is well kept and clean cut. We don't need a second home. We don't even need most of what is in our first home. We don't need a cushy bank account to keep us from having to trust in God. We don't need a 401K and retirement plan to travel the country in an RV. For our sake and God's, we could do without.
Today, as I strolled through the campgrounds and invited campers to our worship services, I was reminded of how I was slapped in the face only a few months ago. I was reminded of how I am starting to go numb once again to the excess we have and the indulgence we engage in. I was reminded and knew I had to say something, lest I forget forever what I once felt so violently slap me in the face.
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