Why God Doesn’t Want Me to Hate Nude Beaches Anymore

I’ve always had something against nude beaches. I’ve never actually been to a nude beach, but just knowing they exist has always stirred up an odd mix of fear, or denial, or hatred in me. Like the people that go to them are probably only rich European scam-artists, Columbian drug dealers, and Russians who don’t know what it means to stay faithful their spouses. I don’t know why I’ve pieced it together that way in my mind, but I have. The seeds of this perception were probably calculatedly placed in my mind by some junior high youth pastor as an attempt teach the importance of modesty, but I will save the ranting about youth pastoral technique for someone who has studied it a bit more.

The reason I mention this is to the tell the story of two weeks ago, when I was basking in the sun on a beautiful beach (not a nude one!) with Jason in Malaysia. I had to make the journey south to get a new visa. Thailand is notoriously known for it’s human trafficking so, understandably, they don’t just want people coming and going as they please, especially for extended amounts of time without jumping through some hoops. Malaysia on the other hand, has made an entire tourism industry out of attracting Westerners in need of the proper stamps to their boarder island Penang, because of a legendarily lax Thai Consulate. In between dropping my application off on Friday morning (which took all but 10 minutes) and picking it up Monday morning (which took another 10 minutes) Jason and I got to spend some good beach time relaxing equator style, as well as a couple of days in KL, from which Jason has the better story to share. Just ask him about the plumbing in low budget guest houses.

On a side note, the farther removed I am from my students the more skin I’m willing to show. For instance in Bangkok, I will wear shorts once in a while and all the way in Penang, I had absolutely no reservations about bringing my two-piece swimsuit for the lukewarm water and ample sunshine. No reservations that is, until I looked around. Malaysia (which I didn’t learn until arrival) is a major travel destination for people from India and countries nearby like Pakistan. Because of this, the cultural and religious norm is for women to walk the beaches fully clad in Burkhas, just like the ones us Americans saw on the news when we invaded Afganistan. Some women were wearing the full garb with only a slit where their eyes were, and a few more rebellious ladies left most of their faces uncovered, but still in the full black cover-up dress. Fortunately, most of the women didn’t let their rather confining beach attire get in the way of some good ole’ banana boat fun. Everybody loves a banana boat. We decided that if they haven’t already made those outfits out of good moisture-wicking fabric, then maybe Go-Lite or Royal Robbins should start a new market.

As I was lying on the beach that day in Malaysia, feeling completely scandalous because of my exposed face and everything else an American-style bikini doesn’t leave up to the imagination, I started to wonder how all the women around me were judging me and I was beginning to worry that maybe they had the same perception of me as I have of all of those women that go top-less at other beaches. And I began to think it very unfair that they would consider me a drug-dealer or someone who cant be faithful to just one mate just because they could see my belly-button. So needless to say God used this time spent on the beach with my wonderful boyfriend, to convict me of some judgments I’ve had on people I’ve never met. Afterall, if He had it His way, we’d all be running around stark naked and it’s because of our own fallen nature that instead, we’re running around deciding what is and what isn’t appropriate to wear at a beach or anywhere at all. So I’m not saying that I’ll ever go to a nude beach. It’s not a part of my culture so I don’t think I’d ever get over the awkwardness of it. I’m just saying that from now on, I might try to be a bit slower to make judgments of people I’ve never met who come from cultures I’ve never experienced. Maybe the ladies in Burkhas will cut me the same sort of slack.