On a rainy Wednesday night (no lie… it was rainy!), I pulled three suitcases out of my house and headed to the bus station. Tears filled my eyes as I waved goodbye to the little neighbor boys who waved and yelled, “ Goodbye, Cikgu!” I watched as the house disappeared behind me, and I looked out the window of my mentor’s car. I tried to forever imprint the images of the village I was part of for 10 months.
I boarded the bus, and I waved goodbye to my mentors, as
well as my friend Jamaliah who came to see me off with her family. I also waved
goodbye to Christina who was staying for a few extra days. I sat in my seat,
and I looked out the window. It took me a moment to catch my breath. When I
did, I took a big, deep breath that brought air all the way down to my toes.
I gave one last wave to everyone.
At that moment, I still had not made full sense of my
experience. However, I did realize one thing – the most important experiences
are the ones that pull at your heartstrings in ways you never imagined. The
experiences that have peaks, as well as valleys. The experiences that have
successes, as well as failures. The experiences that make you smile, as well as
cry. The experiences that culminate understanding, as well as confusion. The
experiences with potential accomplishments that seem far too overwhelming and
difficult to actually earn, but you earn anyway. And more than anything, I
realized that some of the best experiences in life do not provide all the right answers, but rather generate the best questions.
As I departed from Besut, I held my head high. The visions
of life in Besut were still fresh in my mind and the stories of my time as a teacher
were in my heart. After almost a year, it was time to begin my journey back home,
back to where I came from.
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| After months upon months of Skype session, I could not wait to see my family in person! |
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