I slowly twisted the house key off my key ring and handed it to my former landlord. I took one last look around the house, thinking of all the cookies I had baked with neighborhood kids. I glanced at their faded chalk drawings on the driveway. I didn’t look under the kitchen sink where rats had chewed holes in the drain, and I didn’t dwell on the armies of ants besieging the kitchen. Outside, a growing city crowded out the country peacefulness that had once surrounded the place. With mixed feelings, I replaced my house key with another, accepting the new challenges that would come.

I drove my motorbike down the road toward my new home, dodging potholes while watching out for for cows, dogs and children in the road. My new house is on the outskirts of the city and has a small-community feel. I am surrounded by greenery and trees. One window opens toward the community well where neighbors gather to bathe, wash clothes and do dishes. Off in the distance, I can see a shelter covering a cook fire where neighbors prepare their meals. No walls separate me from the surrounding community. I was eager to get to know the culture better and become more a part of the community. Little did I know that I was truly unprepared for what it means to be integrated into a Tai-Kadai community.

My first morning in my new place, I was just finishing breakfast when my neighbor announced she had a visitor for me. My house was cluttered with unsorted boxes. I didn’t have shelves to organize things. This wasn’t exactly when I had hoped to have visitors over, yet she proceeded to parade the guest through every room of my house, exclaiming about how much stuff I had. Another neighbor picked up a kitchen spoon and looked it over, then examined my gas cook stove.

Later, while I was organizing my clothes, a young mother carrying her baby came up to my bedroom window to watch me. “You have too many clothes!” she said, then she continued to stand there, watching my every move as I organized my room.

These intrusions into my privacy make me want to put up a fence so I can cook, clean and work on my computer without finding two or more eyes watching my every move, or walk into my kitchen and discover someone standing there examining my bicycle. And yet, my neighbors’ curiosity really just shows their desire to be part of my life. Instead of thinking of the neighbor who is sitting on my porch watching me type as an intruder into my privacy, I need to think of her as wanting to be my friend. When my neighbor walks into my house unannounced while I’m cleaning, I need to remember she is treating me the same as she would treat any of her other neighbors and the same way she expects me to treat her. When my neighbors comment about my things and ask how much they cost, I need to remember this is normal small talk here, and instead of feeling threatened by it, I need to learn to relate to them in the same way.

I moved here with the intention of living my life so my neighbors can see how to live as a Christian. Yet, in many ways, they are my teachers right now. They have shown me care by clearing brush from my yard. They have visited me, stood at my window watching me, and sought to be part of my life. They are also showing me areas in my character I need to improve. They are revealing selfishness in me I did not know existed, shyness ill-becoming of a Christian, and a desire to hide when God would have me stand straight and firm as a beacon for Him.

Please pray for me as I adjust to my new community and figure out how to live here without being overwhelmed by lack of privacy. Pray for God’s grace to help me live a life that reflects His love, and for understanding of the way of life here, which does not include privacy. Also pray for my neighbors, the little mother and her baby, the grandmother next door, and the kids who play on my porch. Pray that my life will reflect Christ’s love to them in such a way that souls will be brought to His kingdom.

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