My first memory of having that deer in the headlights look was in the Summer of 1971 at R.A. Camp working with deaf campers. If Carl, my interpreter, left for a moment, then there I was not having a clue what the campers were saying. I had that look many times in many languages. Many times I didn’t have that look but understood what was spoken. My sophomore year I took a course on Sunday nights in sign language which prepared me for the next two summers when I was blessed with deaf campers but no interpreter.
The deer in the headlights look shows up in more than one chapter because that is the best way to describe how I felt. Going on vacation or a week long mission trip is different than living in a new culture and language.