It’s a struggle.
Being the “gringa,” the white girl in a sea of brown.
I love this culture, the language, the people, the Cuenca
(valley) that I live in. But I hate standing out. I hate being different.
For a couple years in high school, I struggled with my identity
in a different way. The fact that I grew up blessed. Not wealthy, but I had my
needs met, and then going to a private school, where many students had so much
more than me, but didn’t even see how much that had, and how much they could
help others because of that.
But that was not my identity in God. It was a blessing that
God had given me, to know the people I know, and grow up with everything I needed.
And I had to accept that as a good thing, and learn to use it for Him, instead
of being ashamed of it.
Now it’s something completely different.
It’s my skin. Where I come from.
Everywhere I go, normally with another gringa or two, we
always get attention. Because we are white.
The only reason people like white people here is because 1.)
We are rich. 2.) Because they think that one day they might get a green card
out of us.
Lame.
It’s so hard to break through that mind set they have, when
I'm trying to meet new people and make new friends. I hang out with girls and
adults, and my students. Which is fine. But sometimes I wish I just blended in.
I wish that I could do life with these people, without them
all stopping and staring as I walk down the street (not in my village, but the
neighboring ones).
I guess I don’t hate being white, I just wish I fit in
better.
It’s hard to serve when you are constantly being reminded,
because of the language, and your skin, that this really isn’t home by those
around you. Even though it feels like it most of the time.
Maybe it’s just God’s way of telling me to focus more on
Him, and one day that I will be in my true home with Him.
He’s teaching me to live in the freedom that comes from
being His daughter, and the fact that, to Him, everyone is His child, no matter
what color skin they have.
