A Love Letter

2 November, 2018 - Written on 9 October, 2018

Bpit term (school break) is here, and I have been finding myself deeply saddened by this. I was missing my students, teachers, cat, and little blue house at the school before I’d even said goodbye. Just typing this makes my heart ache a little.

I have many adventures planned for the break, so I was confused by the emotions I was feeling; in all honesty, I thought I’d be quite happier about this month-long bpit term. Because of these feelings, I started to reflect on where I’ve started and how far I’ve come in these 9 months. If you had asked me a couple of months ago how I was, I would’ve honestly told you I was fighting daydreams of being home.

But then suddenly, my little community in the mountains of Thailand became home. I’m not sure exactly when it happened... when I fell so deeply in love with the life I have here. Instead of being comforted by abundance, I am now comforted by simplicity. My worst mood is now cured by the purring of my cat or the smiling faces of my students. Not even 3 months ago, my students were still running away from me when I talked to them, and now they crowd around any time they get the chance. Doing laundry is no longer such a chore because I always have at least 3 students keeping me company. My students have become my home. Their happiness makes me happy, their successes overflow my soul with joy, their sadness makes me sad, their pureness makes me long for a life absent of social media, material items, constant junk food, and all the other things Westerners unnecessarily consume. I’ve learned to live with basic necessities, no electricity, and little to no food in my house for weeks, and I’ve started to like it this way.

I find happiness in things I never thought would bring so much joy. Small things such as short walks with my students, observing strange creatures do weird things (a colony of ants carrying a 6-inch long centipede up a mountain is by far one of the coolest things I’ve seen), saying hello to the villagers in the local language, and spending an evening with my host family. And then there are the big things like no longer being able to see every bone in my student’s bodies because they’ve been well-fed at the school for months, my students speaking and practicing English outside of class, the kids playing games together without regard for anyone’s age, gender, or ability, and planning events with my counterpart to try and improve the school.

From the outside, my life might look the same all the time, but every day feels different. Every day feels new and full of life.

I don’t know when it started, but my school is where I find my rest. My school is where I’m happiest. My school is where I love.

The picture above is my students playing with my kitten, Cleo, who sometimes joins us for class.