Goodbye

Bangkok Roaches:

I write from the comfort of a wood-laden, vegetarian-grooving guesthouse in the midnight breezes of Bangkok. I’m still very much in Thailand- my stomach grapples the evil MSG in an effort to digest it, the mosquitoes whirr and latch on to me, evoking swear words as they do, motorbikes perform daring and unimaginable stunts, and there are few moments when you can go outside without breaking into a sweat. Still Thailand, different Laura.

I’m different because I have said goodbye to Sangkhlaburi, my town, my home for the past nine months.

Just as nine months is enough to grow a whole baby and ready them to fight the evils of the world and enjoy in all the light-beams, nine months was a time for me to develop an entirely new and amazing life, complete with deep relationships, moments of happiness, pain, fear, and ridiculousness. In these last nine months, the people I have met and the people who met me, mainly my lovely and amazing students, have readied each other for a new world with an increased awareness of the globe and our place in it.

I left Sangkhlaburi on Sunday morning, February 25^th, to a scene of tear-stained student faces, all of which looked rather bullied and extremely pained. I viewed it all from my own tear-blurred eyes. I thought about the bus that carried me into this small, dusty town in a time that seemed to be ages ago and all that transpired in between.

Here are some things I have learned:

· MSG is the spice of the devil

· Roosters cock-a-doodle-doo at all times of nights, in the country and in the city, and no matter where you go, THEY WILL FIND YOU

· People want happiness and safety

· I’m afraid of street dogs

· The love from a mother to a child is unchanging, regardless of continent, how many children you have, and how many of these children die

· One really can get used to a breakfast of yesterdays rice and greasylicious eggs

· Some people find a fight to fight. Some people are born into one they have no choice but to fight.

· As open-minded as you are, it’s okay to never warm up to eating fish eyes and chicken’s feet. That’s just a part of you.

· Education is empowering. Giving it is empowering, receiving it is empowering.

· Reusing old materials feels good.

· If you smile when you feel sad, or if instead you cry, it is still the same feeling of sadness.

· People who live in high office towers in NYC and people who work on the rubber plantations of Burma all like to get new shirts.

· Some of the wisest people lack formal education, power and running water.

· When you cook food for one hour it tastes better than when you open a box with a mix inside, even if that mix is KRAFT Mac and Cheese (forgive my slander oh mother of kraft-cheesyness).

· Being used to pain doesn’t mean that pain is okay for you.

· Physical touch speaks volumes

· Being a mother to others feels amazing. Having others mother you is equally amazing.

· Will Farrel skits don’t translate easily to Mon culture

· Life is hard for some people and life is easier for others. Regardless, this has nothing to do with what you have done. This just happened.

· We are all one people who want the same thing. We are all one race.

Tomorrow morning I will hop on a bus to Mae Sot, a far larger border town that lies up north. There I will begin a new adventure with a new role teaching and assisting in education efforts on the border with an international education NGO for 2.5 months. I will skip back to the US at the end of May. This will conclude round one of the fight for freedom in Burma, with an unknown number of future efforts to follow, in forms unknown at this point. The future beyond this is wide open, the wind and your words of advice my guidance.

Three days ago I pulled away from Sangkhla, saying a goodbye unlike any other. Due to Burma’s dodgy phone lines, censored mail system, and infrequent email which is only accessible in larger cities, it’s possible I will never see or even contact some of my students again. Regardless of this knowledge, the impact these past 9 months have had on my life is immense. As I waved goodbye, I beamed with happiness through my tears. Half of my heart dropped fearing the gaping hole that would be left without the row of amazing people I watched outside the bus window, and the other half exploded with a love that coated all organs in my body. Despite the growing distance between us, my heart has permanently been stamped by my students—by their love for me, and mine for them.