The Porcupine

“Mooomm! Nathan is touching me! He is on my side of the car!” While Americans have this invisible two foot bubble that marks their personal space, I have always had a bubble four feet wide. My family can testify to my dislike of hugs, cuddling, unnecessary touching. I have long struggled to demonstrate my love to those who derive their love from physical displays of love. Jokes on me, I was sent to Uganda.

I offered my hand to the first Ugandan I met to give a friendly hand shake – he didn’t let go. As he greeted me and continued to ask about my journey my eyes were glued to his hand still holding onto mine. My heart started pounding, I heard nothing he was saying as I kept asking myself, “why is he still holding my hand, this is awkward, why won’t he let go”. Little did I know this was the first of many attacks that would be made on Katy’s Personal Bubble.

I began to pray daily that God would help me adapt to this cultural where you hugged twice before letting go, you stood to talk with shoulders touching if not mere inches separating your faces, hand holding was as common among girl friends as it was between men. Then a Ugandan explained, “we are can not be private in our lives but we are private with our minds”. They live anywhere from 7-12 people per small compound, privacy is not an option.

As time went on, I realized how true this statement was for most Ugandans at least in their interaction with foreigners especially. While they are always willing to share their money problems they are less likely to share personal struggles. The women would never come and share about the beatings they received at home, the hours they work and the toll it is taking on their bodies, the anger they feel at being raped and given aids, the grief over loosing yet another child to starvation or sickness. The children would never tell of the hunger they feel, how their parents can’t afford to send lunch with them to school, of the responsibility they have for their six younger siblings, of witnessing their father drunkenly abuse his family, of the shame they feel when kicked out of the classroom because they have not paid their school fees. When asked how they are, a scripted line ‘I am fine’ will be recited for their audience.

While I cringed at being constantly touched and the lack of physical space, I was brought to the realization that in this other area I had no problem fitting in. Katy the porcupine. I value my physical space just as much as I value the privacy of my mind and heart. As my frustration grew at the lack of intimate friendships here, God opened my eyes to reveal myself in them.

How can there be a friendship if we are both unwilling to share what is in our minds and heart? I was so eager to hear their struggles but guarded to sharing any of mine. I was unwilling to sacrifice and share what was on my heart because that was just too uncomfortable. I look back at my relationships in America and shamefully see this pattern thru out most of them.

Maybe it is a culture difference, maybe it is just me. But I pray that I will learn to live with an open heart to all those around me. Pray that this porcupine will become a little less guarded to those who have shown her so much love.