Waiting

Yesterday, I heard from my dear Makenzie in Guatemala. She is one I have always respected for a number of reasons but this time especially it was for her constant investment in current events and incredible skill in keeping in touch with others. Unfortunately this time, she contacted me with some pretty awful news. I'm trying to make my brain stop thinking about it so I am going to copy and paste an email I wrote to some coworkers today so I don't have to type out what I'm thinking. I wrote this to my friends who are currently teaching with me here in Vietnam but all taught in Guatemala at one point as well. If you are a Guate friend reading this, please know I am sending all my love to you right now. All of it...

"Amigos,

I’m having a hard time with some recent news about our Guatemala. Here is an article from the Prensa Libre about one of my former students’ parents: http://www.prensalibre.com/noticias/justicia/Exesposa-Rubio-delata-muertes_0_801519862.html

Apparently, the parents were divorced in 2010, but since then, the father has murdered nine of his ex-wives lovers, friends, or acquaintances. He was found with 350kilos of cocaine in his helicopter a few years back and even served jail time in the U.S. in the early 90s. Why was he never jailed for the cocaine? Why was he out roaming the streets? Because it’s Guatemala. I guess he put a GPS in her car and was literally tracking down where she went and then going to the same place to kill whomever she was with. The mom was currently seeing the Italian Ambassador in Guatemala and when the dad was about to come after him, the mom took the kids and fled the country. No one at Inter has seen or heard from them since. I think we can assume they are safe, as they are able to interview for the Prensa Libre, but it is so scary for me to think that this dad is still on the run while his kids are M.I.A.

I’m thinking back to how I reacted to this student. Frankly, he was terrible in my class. Cheated on tests, stole from classmates, mocked others, never did his work or homework. But his dad was a drug lord, gang member, and was following around his mom killing all her lovers. How could I have thought that doing his homework was that important? I’m sure he never saw his parents and when he did he was scared out of his mind. Maybe he had no idea, which would be ideal, but he obviously knows now. I’m doing a lot of reflecting today on what these kids have to go through. Some people may think these kids are privileged because their families come from money. But I’m thinking those kids that run around freely jumping in Lake Atitlan while they eat Tortrix from the tienditas could possibly be having a better childhood than those whose parents are so rich and crazy, they have no love for anyone else, not even their children.

Wow, sorry to send such a heavy email at school! I’m on my lunch break researching more and I just can’t get this out of my head. I’m sending positive vibes to Guatemala today, and thinking of all of you who know the heartache of this place as well.

Abrazos a todos,

Hannah"

I got some responses from this emotional email that were really helpful. Colin (I'm not sure I explained that Colin was my wonderful boss from Guatemala (the first year, obviously) who offered me the job here in Vietnam this spring) said that perhaps teachers were the only consistant adults in this student's life. Maybe we were the only ones who had expectations of him. It's possible that the routines we had at school were the only ones he had all day. And that is important and means something. Friend Scott, a former Americano teacher, reminded me to enjoy the time I have with the kids I'm working with now, instead of dwelling on what I could or couldn't have done. Touché.

None of that really matters now though. All I can really do is wait. Wait until we hear for certain that this family is safe. Wait until we learn that the father has been caught and arrested (let's hope). 

Tomorrow is Dia de los Muertos in Guatemala so I will be remembering all those Guatemaltecos who have lost their lives to violence. I also plan to reach out to my family and friends there as this disheartening news has made me long for them even more than ever. 

Thailandia

Warning: the majority of this post is about... food. Pictures of food. Stories about food. Love letters to food. I hope you will not think of me differently upon reading about the enormously inappropriate amounts of calories I took in during my one week stay in Thailand. But if you do, I guess I'll just save a knuckle sandwich for you :)

Last week commenced our very first "vacation" of the school year. The word "vacation" deserves quotation marks mostly because I already live in a super cool foreign country so to take a "vacation" from my "vacation" lifestyle is just kind of silly. Anyway, my dear roommate Kristi, our coworker Victoria, and myself decided to add another stamp to our passports and head west to the land of curry, Buddhism, limestone, and diversity: Thailand.

My bookmark for the week :)

Tuk-tuk transport

Now, I'm not entirely sure how to tell you about the week without making a boring, "then we did this, next we did that, later we went here..." kind of post. So, if you get bored, just scroll down and look at the pictures of food, Buddha, food, monkeys, food, and that tuk-tuk to your left. Our first stop? Bangkok. At first glance, Bangkok is huge, dirty, booming, colorful, and hot. Then, once you start exploring, you find that Bangkok is actually enormous, filthy, heavily populated, vibrant, and sweltering. But I still think I fell in love with the place. Phad thai was sold on the street for $1, tuk-tuks were the size of a mini-cooper, pictures of the royal family were displayed all over the city, ancient temples lined the streets and acted as reminders of S.E. Asia's extensive history, diversity was found in its purest form as Thai were dressed in tradition clothing, western wear, and head coverings, and transportation exceeded most city options: boat, taxi, train, light-rail, bus, tuk-tuk, bicycle, and peds. We spent some quality tourist time finding the great Reclining Buddha, visiting the largest market in all of Asia, shopping on the famous Khoa San Road, sipping coconut juice, and taking a vegetarian Thai cooking class. This was definitely the highlight of Bangkok and something I would have never normally done had it not been for the influence of my roommate, Chef Kristi. The class was about $35 and included a trip to a market, instructions in cooking eight meals, a recipe books, dancing lessons, and new friends. We ended up buying spices, curries, tea, and another cookbook but all-in-all, it was absolutely worth the money. So if you are starting to take notes on "things that entice you to visit," please add the following: I will cook delicious Thai food for you if you come. 

Seems like most countries respect their leaders... hm... different. I did have a hilarious conversation with our taxi driver about Obama and Romney. The driver said he watched the TV and all they did was, "talk and talk and talk but I want they to dance!" Yes, little Thai taxi driver, I agree. The presidency should absolutely be determined by a dance-off.

Becoming a ghost next to the world's biggest buddha

This is a real thing: stuffed tofu with rice, green curry, eggplant... I die.

Chef Hannah to the rescue! 

This is Phad Thai and peanut sauce my roommate and I MADE!

Spring roll spread

Papaya salad... I didn't make it but I did eat it

Pumpkin hummus... you read right!

Possibly the most delicious thing in Thailand: black sticky rice with coconut milk, mangoes, and bananas... NOM!

Kristi with her coconut ice cream :)

After a few days of playing in a new city and enjoying our sweet hostel with the kindest of Thai ladies, we bought a bus ticket and made our way south. Night buses are an incredible thing. You get where you want to go without wasting any additional time, you (hopefully) sleep through the discomfort, you spend a fraction of what you would with an airline ticket, and you pay one less night for lodging. And Thai night buses are the best I've seen: fully reclining seats, blankets provided, flat screen TVs, snacks and water bottles, clean bathrooms, and a communal dinner at a rest stop at midnight. Super classy and under $30 for a 12 hour bus ride. I'll take it!

ooooh hai!

Twelve hours later, we loaded off the bus, taxied to a pier, and sailed our way to the islands. It was here that we spent our days hiking, rock climbing, sleeping in bungalows, eating hilariously inexpensive food, swimming in the saltwater, "borrowing" the pool at a neighboring hotel, reading, slack-lining (finally found one!), and meeting fun people. It was a beautiful, relaxing, calming experience that I wish everyone could know. I am tempted to go back to Railay beach for every vacation I have but can't imagine how many other amazing places this region has to offer. If my first trip was this good, and I had no idea what we were doing half the time, the next ones are bound to be even more awe-inspiring.

beautiful limestone

This is a fun story. These gentlemen asked if they could sit at my table while I was eating that papaya salad seen earlier and we ended up going on a viewpoint and laguna hike together. They were very impressed the I knew that where they were from, Ottawa, was the capital of Canada. Turns out they went to high school with my dear friend and coworker from Guatemala, Camille! It's a small world after all :)

Temporary roommate Kevin climbing after teaching me to do that same

I have to tell you a specific story, though. And this story may require that I stand a little taller, like maybe on a soapbox. Sorry in advance. On my daily walk to "pick up" Kristi and Victoria at their hotel (I stayed with friends Alex and Kevin in our $12 a night bungalow instead of a $50 a night resort), I frequently walked past an Indian restaurant owned by an American couple. I was intrigued by their "water bottle refill station" they had advertised and became a regular during the week, filling my bottle for 10 baht ($.30), discussing the joys of traveling, and chatting with their super cute kid. One day during a refill, Alex asked how they disposed of their trash on this tiny island. They mentioned that they composted what was compostable, recycled what was recycled in that area, and buried the rest. Impressed by their assumed desire to create less waste with the water bottle refill station, I mentioned the concept of a bottle brick to them (if you are unfamiliar with "bottle bricks," you haven't read my blog and have a lot of reading to do in order to find out, hehe). They sounded interested so naturally I got really excited.

To my dismay, my excitement was short-lived. I returned to the restaurant the next day with information, contacts, and a naive hope for a bottle brick project in an island town in the south of Thailand. I proudly reexplained the concept to the couple and offered email addresses of people who may be able to provide resources and supports for a potential project. But I was met with an ugly attitude that disappointed me beyond belief, "It sounds like a great idea, but honestly, Thai people just don't care about the garbage they make." 

Pssh, thanks buddy, clearly you don't either.

As a privileged, educated American starting a business on a small Thai island (and frankly, taking business away from Thai people and exploiting the tourist dollar in a country that is not yours), is it not your DUTY to improve the community in which you live? I asked this question to Allison in one of our, "man, society is depressing worldwide" conversations, and she brought up the brilliant point that everyone, everywhere should want to improve their community, regardless of where you come from and what the current stance is of the community members on any given issue. I found myself so incredibly let down that I nearly cried right there in front of this guy. Why should Thai people care about the garbage they make? Where would they have received any education about conservation and waste management? When have they ever witnessed the repercussions of over-consumption of resources? If someone has no background knowledge or contextual awareness of their actions, of course they won't care! That is where your job comes in, Mister educated-white-man-with-an-Indian-restaurant-on-a-tiny-island-in-Thailand. You can't go on thinking that what goes on on your own property is all that's important. If you want a healthy world for your young and super cute kid to grow up in, then take the initiative. Put in the time. Do your part.

Change can start with one person. I'm still young enough to believe this and don't plan on letting some a-hole (sorry, I'm clearly still disappointed!) American take that away. Now, the next step for me is 1. learning how to be brave enough to actually say these things to the people who anger me instead of writing home about it and 2. contacting environmental groups here in Vietnam about bottle bricks. I wish I could fly Jaron and Aubrey out here right now and we could start our own organization of people who really do care about conservation and education but hopefully the right person will be inspired and something can be changed.

Because if not now, then when? If not you, then who?

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Okay, that was me climbing down off my soapbox that somehow became more of a tower than a box. Not apologizing this time as many people have told me I do that too much. So, sorry for not being sorry. Oh, ooops, there it is again. The rest of the trip was equally spectacular except for one little thing: Kristi got an ameba! We think it was maybe from her salad not being cleaned well enough or perhaps being cleaned too well and not dried, but one way or another that little dude made his way in her stomach and just took over. She had a fever, diarrhea (don't worry, Kristi likes discussing poop too), and intense body aches for three day. Luckily, I did learn some things from my amazing nurse of a mother and was able to track down electrolyte packs, vitamin C enriched liquids, and soft foods for my poor sick roomie. I played bad cop and forced her to drink her fluids in increments, even when all she wanted to do was sleep. This only lasted long enough for Kristi to make it back to Vietnam and go straight to the doctor. They found that her stomach was intensely inflamed, blood had managed to get in her stool, and there was indeed a little squirmy guy living in her insides. Kristi is on her way to killing those demon bugs with twenty day anti-parasitic pill treatment. She stayed home and slept for two days and is finally feeling better; thank goodness!

Okay, I think that's all I've got for you. I won't try to sit here and think of a clever way to end this post. You can stop reading now :)

The view from the borrowed pool at the fancy hotel... this is real life!

if you've just joined us...

... I'm trying to start again. The last four entries are what I've written in the last two weeks. That's decent pacing, I think. Scroll down to "Giving it another go" if you'd like to start at square one.

:)

Mountain Biker

As previously mentioned, this new bicycle has been providing enough entertainment for an entire blog. So, prepare yourself for some bike entries.

Ferry transport! 

This Sunday, I went for the “Sunday Ride” with a bike company in District 7 called Saigon Cycles. I’d planned on going on this ride weeks ago but hadn’t worked up the courage to show up solo until I realized that I couldn’t convince anyone to go with me so I’d better suck it up J I left my apartment at 5:30am, rode the 8K from my house to district 7, and met up with the group of cyclists. In our group, we had three Dutchmen, two Aussies, two Kiwis, and three Americans; already awesome. We departed for the ride as the rain began to fall and completely soak all of our belongings. We rode out of the city until we stopped for a quick noodle soup meal and dry-off. Not long after we hit the road again, we came across a river. How does one get across a river with a bike? A “ferry.” This ferry also happened to be the form of transportation for about 75 Vietnamese school children (yes, Vietnamese kids go to school at 7am on Sundays). The boat ride only last about 5 minutes and we were on our way again…

Where we went next was the Vietnam I have been longing to find. The Vietnam where people work in the rice paddies wearing leaf hats. The Vietnam where children come running out of their houses to say hello to the white people riding by. The Vietnam where your thoughts are not interrupted by the sounds of motorbikes and horns, and your breath is taken away by beauty rather than exhaust. The Vietnam where you have to slow down (to concentrate on not falling in the mud, yes, but also) just to look at everything around you. Where you feel so happy you could SHOUT! Where you don’t care how much mud is being caked all over you and your belongings. Where you stop worrying about, well, everything. I was deeply moved by this ride and hope it is only the beginning of my exploration.

The crew in the rice paddies

what are you talking about? i'm not tired! ;)

Now, it wasn’t all happy-go-lucky. There is a slight chance that I was maybe the slowest rider out there, perhaps. I thought at first I was doing fine until I realized people take turns “bringing up the rear.” Rear = me. But, everyone seemed pretty surprised when I admitted this was my first ride… ever. I haven’t owned a bike since 4^th grade and certainly had never ridden it more than to a neighbor’s house. Another gentlemen echoed that, “there are two ways to ride a bike: riding it fast, or looking good… so you’ve got one of them covered!” Most women may have taken this as a compliment, but of course my competitive nature was extremely offended. I’ve decided that I now must do everything possible to keep up with that group. Everyone said I needed to get gloves, bike shorts, a better water bottle, yadda, yadda, yadda. So maybe I was a little unprepared for a 68K ride but I’m still glad I went and look forward to more rides to come.

Living Abroad 2.0

Well, I thought if I ended the Guatemala chapter, I could easily jump into the Vietnam one… but where do I even start? Chapter one, I guess? It’s a bit of a daunting task to try to sum up the first two months here, so, I’m going to skimp on the details and just give you the gist.

The first week was… stressful. I was searching for an apartment with my super cool roommates, Kristi and Edwin, trying to get adjusted to the intense time zone change, and figuring out how to teach fourth graders. And after several text messages sent to family and friends at inappropriate hours, I finally realized that I was on the other side of the world and couldn’t ask my family for their opinions on every little decision that had to be made. So, I slept when I felt tired, bargained with a landlord to get a price on an apartment we were comfortable with, and dove into curriculum with a super energetic and hilarious team of fourth grade teachers.

View from my bedroom window

Here’s what has happened since then:

my wheels!

1. I bought a bicycle. I could probably devote an entire blog (not an entry, a whole BLOG!) to all the hilarious things that happen on that bicycle. I think I’m the only white female in the greater Ho Chi Minh City area that rides a mountain bike, complete with helmet (which apparently is “dorky”), and backpack strapped onto my back. Sometimes people ride next to me on their motorbikes and just stare. S-t-a-r-e. Allison told me to start smiling and waving but then I figure I’ll be the only white female in HCMC that rides a bike and smiles creepily at strangers. Don’t want to get a crazy-girl reputation just yet. Other times people move my bike from places I’ve parked it. I think they get a lot of entertainment out of me finding the bike covered in the rain that has poured for 2 hours, trying to wipe off the seat so it doesn’t soak through my pants, and ringing my bell that actually sounds more like a “dunk, dunk, dunk” sound after the rain has taken hold of it. I had my new light stolen that I promptly stole back and have even arrived at social gatherings in my bike clothes covered in sweat. See, I told you I could write a blog about my bike! I’m getting ahead of myself, let’s move on…

2. I joined the gym. Yeah, you read right. The person who has made fun of gym junkies, mocked the trends like crossfit, and blamed my hatred of yoga on my A.D.D., has joined a gym. And, I guess I like it all right. Today I laughed about how in my regular week I can spin, run, lift weights, swim, and do yoga when last year I ran 4 days a week and called it good. I am feeling more like myself again athletically and hope to join some kind of team in the near future to increase motivation and set some real goals.

coucous, veggies, and fish! (yes, I eat it... sometimes)

3. I started cooking. I know what you’re thinking; “Yeah right!” But seriously guys, this is real life. I actually make more than pasta with red sauce, scrambled eggs, and peanut butter and honey sandwiches. My roommate, Kristi, is as close to being gourmet as there is. She claims that everything she makes is “easy” and that she just “watched the food network” and became well versed in cooking. But let me tell you, this girl has some skillz! Now, I have been surrounded by good cooks for awhile now; Carrah at KU, my brothers Weston and Zack, and my Aubrey in Guatemala. All were perfect examples and role models. But I think know I used their skills as a crutch. I allowed them to make me food while I cleaned up afterward. I never thought to take notes because they were always there. The problem here is that Kristi and Edwin are dating. Dating people like to make food and eat it together. That leaves little room for me to let people make me food while I clean. I mean, can you believe that?! Its like they are completely uninterested in sharing their talents with me while I do absolutely nothing ;) Kristi has been doing an amazing job of teaching me her ways including: roasting vegetables, seasoning soups and pastas, making sizes that last for dinner and lunch for two days, and other such abilities. I haven’t had to fall back on pb&h sandwiches at all this year! Though, I do still eat peanut butter like its my job; I just eat it straight out of the jar now.

4. I have real bowel movements again. Who knew that moving from one third-world country to the next could make such a difference? Maybe it’s the increase of fiber in my fiber pills + a massive increase in vegetable eating, or perhaps things are actually cleaner here, but I’ve been more regular than I’ve been in years. Move over, always-running-to-the-bathroom Hannah, there’s a new girl in town!

5. I played at the beach. Beaches in Vietnam come with many other activities such as renting motorbikes, sliding on pieces of plastic down sand dunes, having bonfires on the beach, playing limbo at bars, buying pearl earring for $2, and getting to know your coworkers. We spent a glorious 3 days here and will certainly return.

Mui Ne, our first beach experience

6. I bought a ticket to Bangkok. We leave on Saturday. Very little has been planned largely because there is just so much to do and no way to know how to choose. Our loose plan is playing in Bangkok for a weekend then taking a train down to the southern islands. Lots of hiking, exploring, and learning will hopefully ensue. I will surely tell you more about it as it comes.

7. I’ve met some amazing people. From everywhere; Vietnam, Indonesia, Canada, Ireland, England, Holland, Poland, France… its really amazing how international this city really is. I’ve loved hearing everyone’s call to work abroad and how they are shaping their own lives and others while working here. I’m hoping that with the start of my Vietnamese lessons this week, more doors will be opened in terms of meeting new people and learning more from their stories.

My fourth grade team!

8. I got my independence back. I’m finding peace in being alone and thankful for this chance to learn more about who I think I am and who I want to be. We’ll end on that one :)

Fuiste tu

“It was you.” That was all I could say to Guatemala as I stared out the plane window and let tears fall silently into the book I wasn’t reading. It was you, who opened my eyes to the world. It was you, who provided me with the first children I ever taught on my own. It was you, who accepted me as a friend and never called me stranger. It was you, who showed me endless physical and emotional beauty. It was you, who angered me beyond reason at why things are they way they are. Drugs, disparities, danger… three D’s that run the people of that country. Three D’s that forced me to make a decision I didn’t want to have to make. Three D’s that taught me to always look over my shoulder, clutch my belongings, never be alone, and trust no one. Three D’s that, if weren’t a reality for everyone I knew, would have made me want to stay in Guatemala for the rest of my life. But it was you, Guatemala. You were my first real love outside my homeland. And I’ll never stop loving you.

My second year in Guatemala was nothing like the first one. Many things were better, many were worse, and many were just… different. But the one thing that was worse that I couldn’t let myself continue living with, was my attitude. I know now that it could have been different. I could have learned to keep my mouth shut about the injustices I was seeing around me at school. I could have learned to shut my classroom door and just love my students as much as I did without caring what others thought. But at the time, it felt impossible. I learned a lot of dirty things about education last year. And I also learned a lot about myself as an educator. I’ve always been told (and have recognized) that I am a very passionate person in every sense of the word; I experience all my emotions with great intensity. But I didn’t realize my emotions could be controlled by someone else (or, in hindsight, “that I could allow my emotions be affected by someone else’s actions”). I wasn’t happy with how my boss was running and treating people at my school and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I couldn’t! I found myself venting to at least five different people about the same thing, not coming to any kind of conclusion. I was within inches of literally hating someone for the first time in my life. And I was an employee of this person! It was nuts. It was negative. I had to make it stop. And the only way I knew how to do that, since I couldn’t remove this person from the picture, was to remove myself from the situation.

So there you have it. Everything else was perfect; my students, my friends, my country. But the combination of the physical and emotional insecurities Guatemala’s safety issues gave me, and the near-hatred of the person I had to respond to and work for each day, made the answer very clear. It was time to go.

I can’t say I have any regrets. I can say that I have been forever changed from the learning experience I had when leaving Guate. It was a heartache I hadn’t known before. Even after spending my whole life moving, this one was different. The people I met there were unique in a way I’ll just never really understand. From the moment we met, I loved them and they loved me. Maybe its because it was my first teaching job and my first time abroad, but I am just not sure I’ll ever have the same love I grew to have for any other place in the world than I did with mi Guate. And I think it might still be very painful for a long time, knowing that it may not ever be a place I live in again. But for now, I will call it home.

In reflection, here are some of my favorite things/memories about Guatemala:

-the people

-my students

-my coworkers

-la bandera, el quetzal, la ceiba, la monja blanca, etc.

-the earth lodge

-paredon

-the dock at san marcos in atitlan

-the swing at semuc champey

-sweet potato, black bean burritos in antigua

-the view from the highest peak in central America

-our apartment (the second year)

-pupusas

-corn tortillas

-bottle bricks

-running partners and races

-running across the street so fast you SCREAM!

-Spanish lessons

-dinner parties

-celebrating birthdays

-our hammock

-café saul

-trail mix

-speaking with the same accents our students had

-all 15 visitors who shared these experiences

-and knowing, for certain, that I’ll be back again someday

I think of you everyday, Guatemala. I think of you as I ride my bike, walk, shop, and explore freely; I have a greater appreciation for safety. I think of you as I try to learn Vietnamese with almost not luck; I wish I spoke Spanish more. I think of you when I am alone; I was never alone the last two years (and am learning a lot about myself by, well, being by myself). I think of you when I can’t get my Vietnamese students to talk; I wish I would have never told my Guatemalan students to stop talking as much as I did. I think of you when I listen to Spanish music everyday; I wish the whole world knew music that good! And I think of your people all the time and I know I will see them again. Because, well, I’m not so sure what my life was like before I knew them :)

Fuiste tu.

Giving it another go

Hello?

Are you still there?

Are you willing to give me another shot? Can you handle the thought processes that I am going to attempt to write here? Can you be patient with me while I try to explain, once again?

I live in Vietnam now. It’s crazy. It’s different. I am very happy. Truly! But when I’m alone, which is often, I can’t seem to gather my thoughts. This is the sixth time zone I have lived in. The twelfth time I’ve put my possessions in boxes, taken a look at all I own-- the things that mean so much and the things that have lost their meaning altogether. I feel like parts of me are spread all around the world, having people that I love to the very core in all corners of this world.

And… I think that’s pretty cool. Right? 

I have a really amazing friend from Guatemala. She worked at my school for many years and each spring watched as people she loved and cherished moved on to the next chapter in their lives, the next corner of the world. It just about broke my heart (literally) to be another one of those friends that left this spring and wondered as we said goodbye when we could see each other again. I was jealous of her that she got to stay in this beautiful place I had come to call home. She was crushed to be left behind. I moved home, barely had time to unpack in time to pack again, and was off once more. Within weeks, I was settled, making new friends, living a surprisingly independent life on a new continent.

And you know what this friend was doing that whole time? Packing up her life, saying goodbye to her people, and moving to… Kuwait.

Awesome.

I feel like I needed to tell you that story. For me, its what I use as an explanation. This friend took the chance she watched everyone around her doing for so many years. She’s terrified, let me tell you, but her story has kept me positive throughout all these difficult good-byes, endless feelings of nostalgia, and questions of when we will meet again. Through it all, I can’t count the number of times people have said, “You are so brave. I wish I could do that.” Well, I hope that if this story taught you anything, it’s that you can! You. Can.

Did you hear me?

YOU CAN!

And that’s where I am right now. Clearly, having the need to write proves that I’m still a little uncertain about all this. I mean, never in my life did I think I would be teaching an after-school Spanish club to Vietnamese students but this just shows me how much of the world has now been opened to me, to my family and friends. And though I have many days still where I wake up thinking I’ll be able to hug my sweet Guatemalan students, or eat cheese and feel the cool Paris air with my brother, or go for a swim in the lake with my sister, or sit in the hot tub with my mom, or pretend to help my brother-in-law cook when really I just pick out the cooking food from the pots while he’s not looking, or eat endless amount of cereal and talk until the Kansas sun rises with Allison, or help Aubrey paint her new house, or listen while friends talk about their new jobs and roles in helping society. I have these thoughts almost daily. Daily! But every time I have these thoughts, instead of feeling sad I just smile. The same smile I had as I rode my bicycle home from school yesterday. The same smile I have as I discover something new about the city I live in that will totally change my day-to-day. The same one I have each afternoon when my students start cracking up as it starts pouring rain right as school is ending and they visualize me riding home in the rain (still smiling though!). The same smile I have right now.

I thought my feelings of nostalgia were too strong, that maybe I made the wrong choice and should be in those places where I keep dreaming of being. But I can’t possibly be in all those places or with all those people, as cool as it would be. So I’ve decided to just talk about them as much as possible (not caring who it annoys!) and bring them into my life in my own ways. Whether its writing them into math word problems, skyping for hours on end, or writing this pathetic testimony of my love for them, I am happy to know that those people who are so far away will really be right next to me forever. 

Deep breath. I think I just figured it all out, for now. Thanks for letting me type. I think I’ll leave this in my word documents for awhile until I have the courage to write my summary of Guatemala. I feel like I need to close that chapter before I can start telling you about Vietnam. I’ll get that ball rolling soon though, because every single day there is something so hilarious or interesting going on here, and now since I can’t just call you all at 3:00am like I want to, I think I’ll have to start writing again. In the meantime, you’ll be happy to know that I have been reading a lot and being reminded how beautiful it is to write. And, if there is something to be shared, it’d be a shame not to share it J

I love you all.

-Hannah