What does a coconut look like?

What does a coconut look like?  If you grew up in the northern states like me, you would probably answer; it's round, brown and fuzzy.

I always drew coconut trees that way, with a palm tree and fuzzy brown circles surrounding it.  In fact, I can't remember ever seeing a drawing or book illustration with any other kind of coconut than the brown, fuzzy ones.

Unfortunately, that's not what coconuts look like.  At least, not until you pull them off a tree, peal them and let them dry out for awhile. Oh, and then ship them up north, where those ignorant of coconuts will assume that's the way they grow.

For your information, a coconut is actually yellow or green, and not round, but shaped somewhat like a large Hazelnut (hence the name coco -  nut).  Just to make my point, I found a coconut illustration from one of my daughters' books.

The picture of a banana tree in this particular book is even less realistic:

If you have ever seen a real banana "tree", you would understand why this is so funny.  Banana "trees" are not trees at all, but stalks.  They grow up from the ground and produce in about a year, then after producing, each stalk dies.  More similar to a garden vegetable than a tree.

Below are actual pictures of the trees in question.

So what is my point in all this, other than that illustrators should investigate more before publishing books?

Just this: our perception of reality is based on our experience (some call it our worldview).  In our own culture and context, everything makes sense. We think we know what the world looks like, and works. Then suddenly we are thrust into a new world, a new way of looking at things.  And suddenly our definitions no longer make sense.

That is, of course, if we take the step outside of our world. If it is someone else coming into our world, then we just assume they are the weird ones.

One more amusing example;  YWAM runs a small private elementary school here in our neighborhood.  The classes are mostly done in English, and young Panamanian girl was completing her homework on October day.  She had read that day that the "red apples and orange pumpkins are ripe in the fall", and she was supposed to draw a picture of fall.  So she drew two trees: one with little red circles, for the apples, and another with little orange circles, for the pumpkins.  She spoke English, but had never experienced fall, or seen a pumpkin.

So, what do you think?  Anyone else grow up drawing brown fuzzy coconuts, like me?

Thoughts on cross-cultural marriage

My friend Heidi recently started writing about her experiences in a cross-cultural marriage, (therealmodernfamily.wordpress.com) and it got me thinking on the subject. There is much to be said, but here are my thoughts today:

Finding friendships after you marry someone of another culture is often a puzzle to be solved. When two or more languages are involved, the puzzle is even more difficult to put together. I remember soon after we married, feeling like I had to pick sides when we got together with co-workers. Sit on the side of the room that was speaking Spanish, with my husband, or sneak over to the English speaking side? I always hated that I had to pick a side, and felt guilty if I picked English.

If we spent time with English speakers, Alex felt left out. And it wasn't just that he didn't understand words. Whole areas of experience and interest were not there to share. If we visit his family and Wounaan friends, I understand little. For a long time this intimidated me, but now I interject comments in Spanish, if I am following the conversation. Someday, I may be able to make my comments in Woun Meu. As I have learned more about the culture, it too, has become more comfortable. It reminds me of our favorite camping spot growing up, Clear Creek Crossing. Not at all home, but a place we loved to come back to.

Often, Spanish speaking friends have been the easiest to make. We both speak Spanish well, and though the culture is not home to either of us, it's a second home that we have grown comfortable in. Nothing needs to be translated, no one is left out, each confident to take on the friendship without depending on the other. And yet... still not totally home to either of us.

Some potential friendships died a premature death. At times I am sure it was my fault, perhaps a Panamanian couple that I had a hard time clicking with. Sometimes there were American couples that had a hard time connecting with Alex. Some just didn't know how to speak Spanish. Others perhaps, didn't want to make the effort. And some others, though they spoke Spanish fine, choose American friends instead. Sometimes, that hurt.

There were wonderful exceptions to the rule, like our friends John and Kristina. Originally from Alaska, they came to Panama eager to connect with Panamanians. I always felt as ease around them, like Alex's nationality and language wasn't an inconvenience, or a barrier, but an asset. They respected him, wanted to hear what he had to share. I never feel when I am around them that switching into Spanish is a chore.

And of course, there are other cross-cultural couples. Which should be more natural, but somehow, isn't. Because there are all sorts of variables. Like what language do they speak while together? Is the wife English speaking and the husband Spanish speaking, or vice versa? Do we share any interests other than our multi-cultural family experiments?

In spite of all this, the benefits are amazing. We have all sorts of friends. Our social life is like going to a potluck: a little bit of everything. The fun part has been learning to enjoy the varieties. There is nothing like getting together with a bunch of high-spirited Latinos, when somebody starts telling jokes. Or gathering around the homemade kerosene lantern at my in-laws house, and asking them to tell stories about the old days. Or our visits to Oregon, where Alex has experienced both snow and American culture.

Our lives have been broadened. WE have been broadened. We have been forced to become different, to look at life with different eyes. To understand others. To REALLY understand others. To open up new windows in our little worlds, and contemplate the view from someone else's window. I know I am better because of it.

Lessons learned on the bus

As we were waiting in line to get onto the Chilibre bus, going home, I started thinking about what my daughters can learn from these experiences. 1. Patience. Wait in line to get on the bus. Wait at the bus stop for the bus to come. Wait for the bus to fill up so we can leave. Wait for others to get off so we can get off too. Their reserve of patience is being expanded considerably. 2. Opposites; the bus is full and empty, goes fast and slow, the music is loud and ... okay, it's always loud! 3. Be considerate of others. There is someone sitting in the seat in front of us who you are hitting when you wave your arms about crazily. When you scream, that bothers the people around us. Except if the bus driver is waiting for the bus to fill up. Then I let Carolyn cry and hope that it bothers him enough to leave sooner. I don't know that this have ever worked but I keep trying. 4. Basic economics. We have to pay for the bus. Sometimes I let the girls give the money to the busdriver. 5. And of course, thankfulnes. Always thank the bus driver when you get off. For me, the buses always remind me to pray. As in, pray that we make it off alive. But I am hoping that they don't yet realize how crazy some of the drivers are. So I just smile and nod when Abigail cries in an excited voice, "The bus is going faster Mommy!".

How to cut open a coconut

One of my favorite outreach treats is fresh coconut milk., or "agua de pipa". Our hosts will often cut down several coconuts and cut a small hole with a machete so we can drink the milk (this is quite a skill). Depending on how ripe the coconut is, you can then split it open with a machete and eat the pulp or "meat". But, if like me you didn't grow up using a machete, this can be difficult. So here is the system I have worked out when I want to open a coconut: 1. Go ask the nearest neighbor for a machete (every household has one) 2. Take the machete and begin hacking randomly at the coconut. 3. Hand the machete to the Panamanian man who has just appeared out of the wood work and offered to do it for you. 4. Smile and say thank-you. There you have it! This system has yet to fail me.