One of the first things quite confusing to foreigners upon arriving in Albania is the way Albanians say “Yes” or “No” non-verbally with their head movements. Traditionally, Albanians say “Yes” with a shake of their heads back and forth the same way that we Americans say “No”.  And they say “No” with an up and down movement of their heads, just like our “Yes”.

Talk about mix-up’s in communication.

I remember that first summer in ’92 when I’d be in a dorm room full of 8 or 9 university women sharing with them about my life, faith and about American culture. Their faces would be transfixed on me (I was one of the first Americans they had ever met)- and occasionally they’d move their heads back and forth in agreement and undivided attention. But seeing this movement of their heads from side to side and coming from my American culture where that means a big “no-no”—I’d be thinking to myself, “Oh no, I’ve completely lost them, they have no idea what I’m talking about, they hate me”… until my translating friend would encourage me saying, “Keep going Tammy, they’re very interested in what you’re saying”—and I’d then remember our first cultural lesson on communication about ‘yes’ and ‘no’s.

Over the years, Albanians themselves have really evolved in their non-verbal use of the head shake for communicating “Yes” and “No”. Many of them, due to numerous interactions with foreigners, have adapted to tourists’ use of head shakes for saying “Yes” or “No”. This can really complicate things, as you don’t know if they are saying “yes” with their heads according to your culture, or  “no” according to theirs and vice versa.

Then the dilemma soon became “how should I respond when they ask me a ‘Yes’ or ‘No’ question??”.  I realized that if I just bobbed my head all over the place and actually learned how to say the words “Yes” and “No” in Albanian, then it wouldn’t really matter in the long-run as together we’d find our groove of communication. Thankfully, Albanians are very gracious with foreigners who seek to learn their language.

Photo by Adam Ciesielski

I’m on the Norwegian Pearl Cruise Ship as I write this. It may seem odd to write about contentment when I’m on a luxurious cruise ship (after all, the Apostle Paul wrote about contentment from prison), eating all the food I could ever imagine, enjoying a thermal spa daily, being able to exercise in the gym at any hour of the day on top-of-the-line machines, and viewing entertaining programs on a nightly basis– comedy, acrobatic displays and wonderful dancing. But the Apostle Paul said that he learned to be content whether he was in want or had plenty.

Contentment seems like something you need to strive towards when you’re in want– when you’ve lost your job or your finances are caving in, or your air conditioning just broke and the outside temps bulge above 100 degrees Fahrenheit. It makes sense to talk about the key to contentment in those circumstances, right? But when you are tasting ‘abundance’– is it normal to struggle with contentment then?

Am I content you wonder as I cruise along on this small city-like ship visiting the beautiful ports of Alaska? Though I certainly would mention on my “cruise feedback slip” that service could be faster at the Summer Palace dining room (the particular dining room that reminds me of scenes from “The Titanic” in terms of it’s fancy decor) I really am very content and extremely thankful for God’s generosity towards me through my mom, who took me on this cruise.

But I haven’t always experienced contentment when having plenty.

Flashback to the summer of 1992.

I spent 6 weeks on a mission trip during the summer break sandwiched between my junior & senior year in college, in the “just-emerging-from-Communism” country of Albania. Albanians were experiencing freedom for the first time in over 40 some years and the country was in a tumultuous time of transition as they tried to set up structures of democracy. I remember there were very few shops open, 1 or 2 cars on the road in the capital city, people waiting in line for bread, and very scarce provisions all around. It was a summer that opened my eyes to people living with far less than what I was used to growing up in the suburbs of Chicago.

As our time came to an end after 6 intensely beautiful weeks in the country and we boarded the plane to leave Albania, when the stewardess handed out the meal and accompanying plastic wrapped set of utensils and napkins, I began to cry as I touched the napkins because we hadn’t touched a paper napkin during our entire stay in Albania– and then receiving one on the plane that came wrapped in its own plastic shell seemed like such an undeserved privilege that I felt truly guilty. I promised myself that I would pray for Albania every time I took a shower, considering how fortunate I was to have hot running water with perfect pressure at any time of the day, something that we had lacked during our 6 weeks there. I didn’t want to forget the harsher realities that my new Albanian friends endured all the time as they lived constantly in what I would consider a “state of want” rather than plenty.

Another memory I have is the “reverse culture shock” I encountered upon arriving back in the U.S. I didn’t experience the culture shock one might expect upon entering Albania– I guess I had been preparing for the worst and was pleasantly surprised that Albania was better than I expected. But the reverse culture shock really hit me hard. Seeing the abundance of things (and especially the waste) in the U.S– food, electricity, appliances, paper cups (I cried over a McDonald’s paper cup in Germany en route from Tirana to Chicago), rolls upon rolls of plush & colorful toilet paper, the glitter and colors in store malls bombarded my eyes as I re-entered my home culture.

I remember feeling judgmental toward others– because they had so much and didn’t even realize how much of the world lived without– wardrobes of clothes and shoes that encompassed a whole room that we call a closet– and I’d think of my Albanian friends who had maybe one or two special outfits that they took great lengths to care for so that they would last that much longer.

A few days after I got back, my mom said something about wanting to will to me some of her special family heirlooms of jewelry. My response was brazen and accusatory, like, “those are meaningless, I don’t want your heirlooms”– everything seemed so excessive to me– and I was feeling guilty for having plenty– for growing up in a country that was abundantly blessed, for having certain privileges that I knew my Albanian friends hadn’t experienced before.

So Paul’s words penned while in prison were comforting yet challenging to me as I needed to ‘learn to be content’ even in plenty, in abundance, when all of my needs were met and then some.

“Actually, I don’t have a sense of needing anything personally. I’ve learned by now to be quite content whatever my circumstances. I’m just as happy with little as with much, with much as with little. I’ve found the recipe for being happy whether full or hungry, hands full or hands empty. Whatever I have, wherever I am, I can make it through anything in the One who makes me who I am.” (Philippians 4:11-13, The Message)

Paul says that contentment is something that we learn. Integral to Paul’s ‘recipe’ of happiness whether full or hungry was the central ingredient of focusing on Jesus, the One who provides enabling strength to face whatever circumstances we find ourselves in.

I’ve discovered that a thankful and generous heart is also key to experiencing contentment in both situations. When I’m in want– the times in Albania when we lose electricity unexpectedly, have no water to shower at a convenient time of the day, or am unable to enjoy a favorite fruit like blueberries or find the perfect-fitting clothes without a Carson’s nearby– having an attitude of gratitude lifts my heart out of self-pity and reminds me to focus on all that I do have. And being generous with my finances, time or possessions frees me from guilt when I am living with plenty– it is the key that opens the door of joy–  and helps me to be free from “attachment” to things so that what I ‘posses’ does not posses me.

When I’m experiencing plenty– like being on this amazing cruise ship where someone else makes my bed, cleans my room, and prepares my meals daily– I don’t need to feel guilty– again, having a thankful heart reminds me that every good and perfect gift comes down from above, from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like the shifting shadows (James 1:17).

Though my circumstances frequently change– my Heavenly Father does not– and He knows how to best provide for my needs, taking care of the most intimate details of my life, and He delights in lavishing His love and care for me, in situations of both want and plenty.

P.S. Thanks, Mom, for the wonderful cruise, and yes, I’d enjoy those special heirlooms one day!

Have you ever struggled with having too much? What has helped you experience contentment in those situations? I’d love to hear your comments on this topic!

Photos by: 1. Tamara Doci, 2. Brad Harrison

I was enjoying a nice, hot shower when the electricity went off right in the middle of it. My first thought was that TCLH had turned the lights off in the bathroom, either accidentally not realizing I was in there, or purposefully as a joke, but then I looked at the light on the shower pump which was now off and noticed the dwindling flow of water and knew that it was a power outage.

I scrambled to get the suds out of my hair knowing that the water would soon be trickling to a stop in a matter of minutes, since they are connected. No electricity = no water. Instead of praying for the day, for fruitfulness, productivity and for other needs, my morning prayer quickly became a frantic plea, “Lord, please bring back the electricity so I can dry my hair and get to the office on time!”

Had this been a special occurrence in Albania and knowing that it was April 1st, I would have thought that it was some guy who works at the electric company’s idea of a bad April Fool’s joke.

But this is an all too common reality in Albania– the electricity being cut off at random, unpredictable times for minutes or hours at a time, causing stress and interruptions to our days. It is part of the adventure of living in Albania and seen in a positive light, helps to build character and endurance. Sometimes though, I wonder if I really need that much character.

“Consider it a sheer gift, friends, when tests and challenges come at you from all sides. You know that under pressure, your faith-life is forced into the open and shows its true colors. So don’t try to get out of anything prematurely. Let it do its work so you become mature and well-developed, not deficient in any way.” (James 1:2-4, The Message)

Here’s to a character-building beginning of April!

P.S. The power did come back on just in time for me to dry my hair and get out the door!

Photo courtesy of: Viditu