They Can't Take That Away from Me

Juice-in-a-bags:

Hello and welcome to my last entry from Thailand, at least for now.

I sit here, in my regular internet cafe in bkk, awash in emotions of excitement and fear at what is to come in the next few weeks. Most of my goodbyes are said and done, the hugs hugged and the awkward pats-on-the-shoulders exchanged. The tears were all spent three months ago when I left Sangkhla it seems, but I have a suspicion they will flow as I depart from one of my best friends here tonight, as I check bags at the airport, at inopportune moments on the plane-- over a piece of gooey, perfectly cut plane-cake, or maybe when I see that the majority of the people on my British Airways flight are white and realize I can understand eveything they are saying.

Wow. I can't believe it's actually happening.

I'm ready and not-- ready to bid the teens yelling "falang! bai nai?!" (foreigner! where are you going?) adieu, ready to say bye to the mangy street dogs threatening to bite, ready to stop seeing women in bkk wearing numbers outside a "bar." But there are some things I will just never be ready to part with: my students from sangkhla who continue to feel much like relatives more than students, papaya salad and sticky rice, the Burmese/ Thai culture of sharing, the eloquence of someone who has been through the political and human rights crisis that is Burma and shares their experiences, the foot-high stools in Burmese tea shops, the excitement when I bust out in burmese at the market, and so much more...

As we travel this earth, be it 2 miles from home or thousands, there are some things that just seem so good and so right that we will never be without missing and longing, will we? It's like the song They Can't Take That Away from Me: "We may never ever meet again, on the bumpy road to love, still i'll always always keep the memory of..."

So lucky me, lucky you, lucky world. Adieu to this adventure, hello to the next, whatever curves and bumps may appear.

Love!

Laura

T minus 9

Hello there gremlins, rainbow-brights, and sparkling tortoise shells:

RAIN!

Indeed the unthinkable has occurred. After recent weeks of unending heat and a ruthless sun beating down on the earth and thus bleaching everything to a uniform tan, in just the past few days the unthinkable has occurred. It has rained.

The skies have opened up, seemingly releasing their pent-up moisture-anger of the last 6 months. And damn, that's a lot of moisture. I had almost forgotten the smell, the sound, the constant wetness of rainy season in the last months of incessantly dry skies, but indeed, it's back. Oh flip-flop slides and moldy garments! Oh joy!

And just as the weather seems to slip into its natural transition from one thing to the next, so do I. In 9 days, I will be on a plane headed home.

I'm filled with excitement as I think of friends and family. Smiles plaster over my face when I think of music clubs, theater, restaurants, JP Licks soft serve… It all has been a long-lost thought for so long. For so long, it's been Burma, papaya salad, rice paddy, human rights…

And just as these shudders of excitement run through me, shudders of confusion do as well. I can't quite imagine being distanced from my friends, students, adoptive families here. I can't imagine thinking about this situation from such a distance and not knowing how things actually are, here on the street-level.

I also wonder about those other things, those details about life in the US like: Am I ready to drive a car again? Can I stomach the American meal of large portions and pre-processed items? Will I be able to make it through a reality TV show without seizing on the floor in a fit of anger?

While all these emotions can be lumped into the simplistic-sounding "culture shock," I think they are worth more than what this trite phrase offers. It seems to me that upon returning home, those who live abroad for some time not only struggle with the difference between cultures, but the mental battle of having opened the door to the world, and the at times inspiring and other times paralyzing possibilities which that act engages.

Indeed I'll go home not thinking just of the change in weather, but very much pondering future actions, development, the world, inequalities, and my most effective place within all of it. My mind will be wading through the question of returning to this border and the people who have been my family for this past year or embarking on another adventure in my own culture, somewhere all mixed up in the sandwich shops and jazz venues of any cool US city.

In spite of it all, I'm immensely excited to arrive back in the US on May 17^th, hug my parents at the airport, and drop my heavy and dirt-dirt-dirty bags on the floor of the home where I grew up.

I'm also excited to see you, to talk to you, to hear about all that I have missed in exactly 12 months away from your life.

Much love, excitement, and cashews,

Laura!