It was New Year’s day and the streets of Barcelona, Spain were full of white lights and endless energy. Jan and I slowly strolled down Las Rambles (Barcelona’s most popular street) and took in scene. There is something about being in a different culture that puts you on your heals a little bit. Not knowing the language or cultural norms forces us into a posture of humility and listening. This is the posture that allows us to grow and learn of the vast diversity of God’s Creation. My inherited cultural telescope is so narrow…it is only in looking through another’s that my worldview expands. See my first Travel as Pilgrimage post for more explanation.
As we sat in a street side cafe drinking some tasty Sangria, a gentleman came by our table and asked if we wanted to buy any roses. I quickly declined, as I often do when people try to sell stuff to me unsolicited. But he didn’t leave. Instead, he stood next to our table with a very friendly demeanor about him as if the conversation wasn’t over. I could tell he wasn’t trying to sell us roses anymore; he was looking for some conversation.
He smiled and asked, “Are you another mean American? Why is the world so mad at you?¨
This obviously caught our attention and I stumbled through some kind of response like, “Well, I’d like to think we aren’t mean.” All the while I knew I had just tried to shoe him away by quickly declining his roses and had barely looked him in the eye. Maybe I was a mean American.
We invited him to sit down with us and offered him a glass of Sangria. With a smile, he declined the Sangria, but accepted the seat. After asking him his story, he told us that he was from Pakistan and had just arrived in Barcelona three weeks earlier. He loved his family and his homeland, but had been forced to escape some violent turmoil and was now trying to make a living selling flowers on the streets of a foreign land.
After asking him why he asked if we were “mean Americans,” he explained the demeaning way he had been treated by other American tourists. I’m sure some of it was cultural misunderstanding and some due to the prejudice we can often adopt against the Middle East. In any case, I hope our new friend experienced something different of Americans that night. After all, our primary role wasn’t to represent America, but God’s Kingdom.
He was a very humble and understanding man with a very different story than our own. Hard to imagine all he has been through. Maybe a bit of irony, but his name was Justice.
Have you had any interactions that called into question your inherited worldview? Experiences that forced you to realize you may engage others in a way counter to our primary calling as representative of God’s Kingdom?