Foreigner
There is an ancient social law given to my ancestors:
When a foreigner moves into your country, do not treat them poorly. Instead, treat them like they are one of your own people. Love them like your own selves, because you were once foreigners in Egypt.
Lev 19:33 and 34a
I have lived one experience of moving to a foreign land. I felt fears I never considered in my home country and stressors I hardly had categories for in my mind. And my move was well funded, from one well-off country to another well-off country!
I had a life giving experience the other day that made me think about the law above. I entered a café for the first time, really craving a change in routine and a hot coffee. I had a break in my work day and I found this place on my walk away from school.
I entered with intense effort to speak the foreign language and convey kindness but confidence. Within two sentences I had messed up the conversation. I wondered if this shop owner would decide I was a nuisance. I wondered if he would charge me an unfair price. I thought about the unappealing plastic wrapped croissant he motioned to when I asked for a breakfast cake.
The shopowner repeated the question where I had blundered and I got the response correct. I sat at a table, feeling overwhelmed - the littelest challenges do that to a foreigner. The owner disappeared into the kitchen. He toasted that croissant like a gourmet chef. He brought it out with a decorative, hearty slab of butter on the corner of the plate. My coffee beside the breakfast. I savored the experience, read a bit, and tranquilly went up to pay. The owner shook my hand which through me off so much I nearly tossed the Euros I was trying to use to pay. He told me his name was Benedicto - “como el Papa" (like the Pope). I left that bar with the unique happiness of receiving respect in a place I feared I would be rejected.
I went back today. I stopped outside the door and double guessed my decision. What if the second experience is a disapointment? What if his patience for foreigners wears out? I entered and had another great cup of coffee. The locals at the bar included me in the conversation even though I stumbled when I talked and mostly smiled silently in response to their banter. I waited until the bar emptied a bit, went to pay, and chatted a bit with Benedicto. He showed me all the respect and kindness of a new friend.
I am acutely aware of how people treat foreigners this year. I hope that I will treat other foreigners better when someday I return home. People like Benedicto are changing the world by treating outsiders as if they were one of their own.
