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.