I've known since taking my seat on the 27-hour journey to Nong Khai, and even before, that there would be another eerily similar flight lurking in the future. The difference would be that the next flight would be heading back to the United States and it seemed light years away. I came to Thailand with a one-way ticket, a ticket that grounded me in being in Thailand. But even light years are closer than they seem and grounds can be shaken with such intensity they make us tumble.
My return tickets have been booked, making the end of this time surreally official. In just over two months, on July 10th, I will be stepping onto U.S. ground after eleven months in Thailand. And you know what? I am scared as heck. If I was a swearing girl I totally would have used a different word there, but it’s just not me. The sentiment is totally there, though.
The only cool thing about my flight home is 1. I will be able to say that I have flown around the entire circumference of the world because I flew from Boston to Dubai to Bangkok coming here and will fly Bangkok to Shanghai to Los Angeles to Boston on my flight back and 2. My flight from Shanghai to Los Angeles is July 9th at 9:00 p.m. and my flight from Los Angeles to Boston is also July 9th at 9:00 p.m. and if that doesn’t make the neurons in your brain fire at awesomely rapid speeds, I don’t think we can be friends anymore.
Other than the time zone induced endorphins that run through my brain when I think about how July 9th, 2015 will forever be the day I lived twice – the seemingly close nature of July 9th seems to provoke a series of other emotions such as fear, anxiousness, sorrow, and a feeling of being unready.
Don’t get me wrong – it has not been easy to be so far from home, my family, and my friends. Nothing showed me that more than knowing there was no way I could go home to my grandfather’s wake and funeral and be with my greatest support systems. I can’t wait to give my family members and friends the greatest bear hugs I have ever given when I get home. I can’t wait to just lie on my bed and talk to my best friend Alyssa about nothing and then make us bacon, egg, and cheese sandwiches in the morning. I can’t wait to finally be home to attend BC football games as an alumnus and see friends that I have not seen in over two years. I can’t wait to finally be able to see my sister’s college in Tampa, Florida and to help her move into her junior year at the end of August. It kills me that I won’t be at my brother’s high school graduation in June but I can’t wait to move him into school at Boston University come the fall, school rivalries aside. I can’t wait to be home to celebrate my 24th birthday and my cousin Alex being cancer-free amidst friends and loved ones. I can’t wait to go to Chipotle and eat a disgustingly large burrito that may or may not put my body into shock afterwards. I can’t wait to make Thai food for my friends and family and show off my impressive culinary skills. I can’t wait to meet my cousin Laura’s daughter Brooke that was born in November. I can’t wait to see my friends from home and talk about how Lil Jon was the patron saint of middle school dances. I can’t wait for Tiffany to come to the East Coast to have a Baltimore reunion with Ellen, Chloe, and myself. I can’t wait to see my cousins and play Cards Against Humanity. I can’t wait to see my BCID girls for the most sassy of all reunions. I can’t wait to go to the Cape and bask in the New England summer air with my parent and siblings. I can’t wait to go to my Papa’s grave and plant fresh flowers.
Yet still, my body is flooded with anxiety knowing that I am going home in two months. I have formed friends and family and a sense of home here that are just as special and real as those that I left behind in the United States. I am going to miss teaching Nonnie how to ride a bike. I am going to miss Pi Bon telling me “thank you for you” in her broken English as I leave work everyday. I am going to miss working with Pik and Wasana in product packaging at Hands of Hope every Friday. I am going to miss having the teenagers over every Sunday to the volunteer house for activities. I am going to miss taking Prio, Wansai, and Belle to the markets on Fridays to go grocery shopping. I am going to miss biking into Nong Khai and sitting by the Mekong River. I am going to miss making funny faces and impromptu dance battles with Suban. I am going to miss Bon’s adorable dimpled smile he charmingly reveals after we play karate kick each other. I am going to miss my mixed English/ Thai conversations with Phermsack as we do medical outreach in the villages. I am going to miss coloring with Panda after work. I am going to miss wondering about how the sky looks so much closer here than it does in the States. I am going to miss having dinner conversations and Friday night movie nights with Tam. I am going to miss learning from Krisada about nursing, medicine, and Thai culture. I am going to miss listening to Maew and Sunti speak Isaan to each other on outreach car rides and trying to figure out what they are saying. I am going to miss cuddling with Belle and watching TV during night duty. I am going to miss hearing Bee sing while he works and hearing him yell “Fasighhhhh” when I walk past. I am going to miss Villai’s laugh. I am going to miss Jiem’s motherly nature and our conversations at Monday Night Community Dinner. I am going to miss the indescribable call of the giant Tokay lizard that lives in my bedroom ceiling. I am going to miss Ying adorably trying to sing her favorite English song she discovered on my iPhone – “Rescue” by Yuna. I am going to miss Gaa blowing me kisses and leaping into my arms when I arrive at Hands of Hope.
Not only am I trying to process the emotions that encompass saying goodbye to Nong Khai, but also those that come with saying hello to Boston. I am anxious about moving back home with my parents. My parents are awesome and I honestly think my friends like them better than me as they often visit my home when I am not physically there, but moving back home is just different knowing my independent nature and the fact that I have not lived at home in six years. And to add to that, both of my siblings will be away at college, so it will just me and the roomies aka the ‘rentals. I know it will be fine, just different – especially knowing that I am coming back to my pink and black striped bedroom and twin bed that was perfect for my sixteen year old-self but not so much my 24 year-old self.
I am anxious about being in social situations again. Having conducted most of my interactions in Thai or a weird combination of English and Thai in the past eight months, I actually have lost some of my ability to have coherent conversations in only English. I know that for the first few months being home I will most likely accidently slip Thai into my conversations – most likely “chai”, which means yes and “kah” which is what females say in agreement to statements. It will happen. I’m just letting you all know that now so I’m not that weird girl that seems to always want chai lattes and always has to clear her throat.
I am anxious about taking nursing prerequisite classes in the fall and spring and hopefully working and applying for nursing programs simultaneously. I am anxious about losing the person I have found myself to be in Thailand once I return to the States. I am anxious about the prospect of dating when I go home. I am anxious about just how weird volunteering for the past two years has made me become and about not fitting in with the groups I surrounded myself with in high school and college. I am anxious about being in a bar scene again, very well knowing that that is not where my interests lay these days, nor have ever really. I am anxious about the grief process I am ultimately going to go through when I get home. I am anxious about losing the glow I developed in Nong Khai.
The problem with all of these built up anxieties is that I do not have to experience them yet. But they sneak into my every day activities, making it easier to take me out of being in Thailand. Right now I am in a weird mix of trying to experience all that Nong Khai has to offer knowing very well that those are the things I am going to miss while also preparing for what is to come next. But really, the only moment is now. Right now.
In the past week I have said goodbye to two patients and one Hands of Hope worker - Yaai Joy, Manee, and Guy, respectively. All passed away this week due to secondary infections and complications due to HIV, such as hepatitis C in the case of Guy. Maybe it is all the Buddhist jargon I have subconsciously picked up here, but giving Manee a bath on Wednesday morning, before she went home to die with her family that afternoon, I could not help but reflect on the impermanence of life and how important it is to be mindful of the present moment.
How important it is to stay here. Be here. Rest here. To bask in the presence of mystery. How important it is to be still. Be patient. Be open. To let everything move in you. How important it is to sit here. Think here. Love here. To make the most of what you are doing. How important it is to be thankful. Be joyous. Be delighted. To remember that even the hardest days give way to new life. How important it is to listen here. Play here. Live here. To know the power of hearts speaking. How important it is to just be. To Just love. To trust that that is always enough.
I wrote a poem my senior year of college two months or so before graduation, a time when I still did not know what I was going to be doing post-graduation, called “Prayer for the Present”, that I keep coming back to these days. Two months is still a long time – my time in Nong Khai has not reached its expiration date yet by any means. So in these days filled with anxiety, and fear, and sadness my hope and prayer is the peace of the present moment.
PRAYER FOR THE PRESENT
Dear God, I spend so much time reliving yesterday
or anticipating tomorrow that I lose sight of the only time
that is really mine, the present moment. – The Book of Daily Prayer
Let me not look back
to concrete cracks of past
nor forward to the mystery
of tomorrow.
Give me courage to trust
what lies ahead
is a paved road
from bricks of yesterday -
future’s treasure map.
Blinded by the necessity
of walking one step ahead,
let me unlock
the confines of my mind,
to live each day
moment to moment.
Release my thoughts
from the barricade of the future,
for like a rocking chair I sway.
Back and forth,
back and forth.
Never reaching a destination,
never reaching a conclusion.
