Going, Going, Gone.

This is Plah Thu. Plah Thu is Thai for Mackerel, and she was named by Ink,
an 8th grader at our school. Plah Thu enjoys running like a crazy dog in the rain and has
kind of become a mascot at NICS. She is there all the time, and this is
a picture of her watching me as I drove away on my last day.

And so it’s official. My passport’s been stamped and I’ve left Thailand. “When you come back? How many days?” “Not come back. Going to Indonesia and then home to America.” And so he took a good look at my multiple entry visa, wrote something down, and I walked through immigration. And I didn’t look back. I sort of wish I had.

During takeoff, I didn’t look anywhere but out the window- out at the snaking, wide brown rivers winding through the dark dark green land, opening up into the sea- until we were high above the clouds and there was nothing left to look at but white.

Bell left our school halfway through the semester, and gave this to her
EP teacher at her new school to give to me. Melted my heart. 

I can’t seem to get my students out of my head. How do people do it? Maybe the more you leave, the easier it gets, but for me right now, it’s hard. It’s a little bit selfish… or maybe egocentric. I think in my mind, I matter a lot more to them than I really do, which makes sense. For one year, they were my life. They have seen teachers come and go, as they and we will all continue to have people enter and exit our lives. I don’t want them to forget about me. One thing about working with older children/young adults is that they get it. They know that they won’t be seeing you tomorrow, just like adults get it. But what’s hard for them to understand is why you’re doing it- were they not good enough, not smart enough, why couldn’t I stay for them? I learned this, painfully, on by last day of work before coming to Thailand, when I tearfully left the girls I nannied standing at their front door, also crying. It was so painful. My students are older than the girls I nannied, a little wiser because of their age, and accustomed to it, but I know it wasn’t easy for some of them. And it wasn’t easy for me to say goodbye to any of them. I really hope to see/visit them again, that this goodbye is not forever.

Goodbye, cozy little apartment.

My last night was spent with (almost) all the people nearest and dearest to my heart in Nakhon. For whatever reason, we pushed ourselves to stay awake until the wee hours of morning, and while we were all absolutely dragging, rubbing our eyes, yawning, and ready to go home, we didn’t because, at least for me, that meant goodbye. I wasn’t ready for that. Goodbyes are never fun or easy.

It didn’t seem real until I had my bags outside my apartment door. I  looked around my (now Bliss’s) apartment, wondered if I was forgetting anything… and then BAM! It hit me. I would never be coming back to this place as I know it now. I felt very alone, dragging my life- which pathetically fits into one carry-on that’s so stuffed it must be checked, one duffel, and one backpack- down the four flights of stairs. I said goodbye to my lovely landlady, who scurried inside her house and came out with a gift- “For you, my daughter bring back from Chiang Mai. You come back, maybe. I like you. You like my daughter. Okay?”

My Landlady. Couldn't have
asked for a better one. 

Living abroad is spectacular. It provides you with this whole different perspective. The people you meet, the life you live, the things you learn, the ways you grow. But really, just LIVING is spectacular, no matter where it’s done, as long as you remember to embrace every triumph, every failure, every experience, and extract from it as much as you can.

My View of Nakhon from "My" Balcony

I don’t know what it will be like when I go home, and all kinds of feelings are swirling around inside of me. Don’t get me wrong- I am definitely looking forward to it. While there are so many reasons to love Thailand, there are also so many reasons I am excited to be done with it. I miss my family and my friends from home dearly. But I have found this amazing new thing that I am not necessarily planning on giving up, and I wonder just how long I’ll be satisfied when I go home. I’m not really sure if that makes sense… I’m feeling a little anxious about getting “trapped”- there are so many places I would like to go in my life, places I never ever considered before. But there are also so many other things I want to do, like making a real home for myself, getting married, having babies… (not right now, but eventually!)… And as someone who likes a plan, I have to wonder: How will I possibly fit all of that in? Will I get to go everywhere I want to go, be everything I want to be, do everything I want to do in this lifetime? Probably not, but I will absolutely try.

Below are photos from the last day of school. My videos of the students' performances (which were hilarious- there was a rendition of Romeo and Juliet where Santa came in and brought the lovers back to life by breathing on them with his minty fresh breath that made our take on 'Twas the Night Before Christmas seem almost holy) are stuck on my memory card for now, so these will have to do.

Students at the special holiday buffet

My Plate... Mashed Potatoes! Turkey! And of course,
Chicken Satay and "Salad".

Teachers enjoying the meal

Pon. Cutest little Christmas Elf.

Mischevious Sua

Haha, oh Dome.

Teacher Meaghan is the only one who is enthused about
donning Holiday attire.

Put, always festive!

How many photos do I have of these two, Nangfar and
Ked, in this exact pose?

7th and 8th grade

Peet, all alone and being "grinchy"

Goett, with his father smiling proudly
in the background!

Me and my girls!

Me and Techit

Some of my 7th Grade Ladies

I WILL MISS THEM SO MUCH!!!

Fievel Goes West

“Nothing of me is original. I am the combined effort of everyone I've ever known.”

― Chuck Palahniuk, Invisible Monsters

A friend of mine here in Thailand has reiterated this quote or a variation of it on a constant basis for the past week, at least. Clearly, it has made an impression on her, and I can see why. It is a very succinct, obvious statement that can get a person thinking about every single person they’ve bumped into, forgotten, loved, abhorred, or considered inconsequential.

Esan with my Ladies

There is only one thing I would add, and that would be that it isn’t just everyone we’ve ever known that makes us who we are; it’s also everything. Last night, I got home from a delicious Isan (Northern Thai) dinner with friends and sat out on my “balcony” for a bit. Just taking it all in. The night scene of this dingy little city in which I have been living, with no hot water and geckos surprising me when I move my curtains, lift a cup, or move my yoga mat (which has been sitting propped up in the corner between my vanity and the wall, gathering cobwebs and Thai dust. I totally thought I would use it with a little more frequency. So really, it doesn’t get moved. Thus, no surprise geckos from this region in my room.)

Today is Friday, and in three days I will be leaving Thailand.  Tomorrow, I will be leaving this city that I have called home for nearly a year. This place has changed me. These people have changed me. Living my life has changed me. I totally cried yesterday at the little goodbye assembly the parents, admin, and students had for us- I couldn’t even compose myself enough to say a little something special. This part of me, unfortunately, hasn’t changed.

It’s nice to be able to compartmentalize things- to put things neatly and squarely into a category. But things don’t always work out that way for everything, especially the big, important things in life, right? There is bound to be some crossover- some residue left behind that infiltrates into the new layer of sediment that is beginning to settle. As much as I want the past to stay in the past sometimes, it has a sneaky way of inserting itself back into my life at the most uncanny times. Life isn’t easy to sort out, compartmentalize, categorize. This is something that I haven’t just suddenly realized, but being here has made me reflect on it and learn to deal. It’s probably also just me getting toward the end of my second decade of life.

I’m dreading the packing I have to do today, trying to sort out what should be posted, what should go in my carry-on for BALI!, and what, in truth, I should really just leave here. This last one will be the most dooziest of doozies. I’m excited. Just like when I left home (until the day I actually boarded the plane), it didn’t really hit me that I would not be seeing my family, my friends, Taco Bell, oysters, stuffing, good wine… well, to be fair, I didn’t know I would be here a year. I thought it would only be six months. But I think what I’m trying to say, is this feels like that- I’m saying goodbye to the friends I’ve made here, but it doesn’t feel like the END. Should it? There are some people I know I am not likely to see again. That’s okay. We’ve made our impressions on each other, whether substantial or inconsequential, and that’s all it’s supposed to be. Then there are those you think you may never see again, and you end up bumping into them somewhere in the world, years later.

(Skeptical? Examples not from the movies? Okay. My aunt reuniting after years and two children later with her high school sweetheart, when he apparently couldn’t get her out of his head and tracked her down. On a friend level? Okay. Cue Denise Oki popping up in my freshman dorm at university, right next door to my room, after we had bonded at a leadership camp for a week a year and a half prior and then never contacted each other again. And then learning that even though we’re from opposite ends of California, our grandmas knew each other and played bridge together on occasion. Fate? Coincidence? Either way, our paths crossed again, this time more permanently, thank goodness.)

You never know what the world holds in store for you. Even when you plan like crazy. Who thought I would ever come around and hop on the “bananas are delicious” train? I never thought I would own and operate a motorbike, especially on a daily basis as my only mode of transport. I never really considered that I might be a teacher in a different country. I never considered that my teaching position would morph to also being Head of Section, after only teaching in the U.S. for less than a year. I also couldn’t even fathom the world that has now been opened up to me. There is so much to explore, see, and do.