Don’t ever blink. I blinked and 204 days passed. I can’t believe it’s been 204 days since I arrived in Thailand. This blog post is totally overdramatic, but I guess that’s something I got from my mama (hehehe love you, mom). I hate goodbyes and endings.
I won’t lie, Ubon was not the most exciting place, to live but I grew to love it. I’m trying to reflect on all of the things I miss about it, but it’s so hard to put into words. So I’ve decided to make a list of all the stuff I miss.
My friends. First and foremost, I miss my friends. I had a bunch of friends in Ubon, but two that I’m closest to. Rob, Sam, and I had become three peas in a pod. My family, my support system, my best friends. I get really sad that I left them, especially since they’re staying in Ubon, but I have a feeling that we’ll be seeing much more of each other in the future (they’ve already come to see me in Chiang Mai, and I’m going to come back to Ubon). I LOVE YOU GUYS EVEN THOUGH WE DRIVE EACH OTHER INSANE (second half is mostly directed at you, Sam).
My regulars. I miss the people I went to regularly for coffee, food, etc. Though I barely know these people, they recognized me every time I went to eat. A lot of the time, they knew exactly what I wanted to eat. I love my fruit guy. He always laughed when I ordered fruit and was impressed when I ordered in Thai. He taught me how to say pink apples but I already forgot. Appbun chompoo maybe? Il miss my three go-to food places. They’re all so friendly. Meh.
The teachers I worked with. The teachers I worked with at Benchama and the staff I worked with at IHOT are all so awesome. They all did their best to make me feel welcome. They excitedly share their snacks with me and are so kind! I miss their smiling faces. Thanks for making me feel so welcome!
The small town and easy getting around. Ubon, a small city, was super easy to navigate, was rarely flooded with traffic, and had all I needed. I didn’t know every inch of it, but it felt like home.
U Bar. This was mine and Erin’s go-to Saturday night spot. We’d see the same faces every weekend and looked forward to chatting with the few friends that we made there. It was basically the Powers of Ubon, but a bigger night club feel.
Being one of very few foreigners. This was something that was bittersweet, but at the end of the day, I liked being one of few foreigners. People knew who I was. It created an instant bond when there were other foreigners. Though it was sometimes annoying to be singled out as a foreigner, I actually do miss this aspect.
My kids. This one goes without having to say. They’re the reason I loved Ubon. I don’t need to explain more than that, but I will in the lengthy letter to my students below.
Leaving my kids
As February passed, I became aware that my time with my kids was getting smaller and smaller. Before I knew it, I only had one class left with them before I (probably) never see them again. The semester had been anything but easy. So many of my students were naughty. So many of them didn’t come to class, were late to class, answered their phones while I was in the middle of talking to them, play every phone game imaginable while I was trying to teach, and drove me insane. But I loved them. Not all students were naughty. I had some of the sweetest kids I’ve ever met. The ones who volunteered their free time to teach me Thai. The ones who messaged me just to say hello. The ones who tried tirelessly to get me to pronounce the Thai word for tired correctly. The ones who screamed across campus to get my attention just to wave excitedly. The ones who surprised me on my birthday. The ones who appreciated my effort. I loved them too.
This quote described the exact feelings that I had when graduating college and finishing student teaching. It now also applies to my ending at Benchama. The difference is, I’m leaving by choice. I’m choosing not to return to Benchama Maharat School. I’m choosing to never see my kids again. I’m choosing to ignore the pleas of my students to stay. I’m choosing to be another disappointment, when all they want is a teacher to stick around for once.
I look forward to my next step in my Thailand journey. Chiang Mai is amazing, and I am so excited to have started my new job, but I did have a great sense of sadness to be leaving the kids I’d gotten to know in Ubon. I didn’t know many that well. I knew their faces. I knew their smiles. But there were only a few handfuls that I actually knew. I was trying to figure out why my heart was breaking to be leaving these kids that I barely knew. Then I realized that they’d been my motivators. They’d taken me in with excitement and open arms, after having had so many foreign teachers come in and out. Living in a country where I know no one and don’t speak the language, they became the reason I woke up every morning. They were the ones I socialized with and looked forward to seeing. They lit up my day when they waved happily or excitedly yell “hello teacher!!!” when I passed them. They tried so hard to make me feel welcome. They became my best friends, as strange as it is to say. They’d gone from “waiing” me, to waving with both hands with huge smiles on their faces. I miss them dearly.
Thank you, to my students, for warming my heart. Thank you for teaching me about anything and everything. Thank you for making me smile everyday. Thank you for frustrating me. From you, I’ve learned to be a patient. I’ve learned to be kind, and I’ve learned to be happy. You’ve made me a better, stronger, happier person. I’m sure that when I leave, it’ll be no big deal. There will be a new teacher that you love, and I’ll just be a distant, fuzzy memory. And that’s okay. Just know I’ll never forget you. Know that I’m so thankful to have been your teacher. It’s been a pleasure. Chock dee ka.