Contradictions.
What better way to sum up my year in Thailand. A society where rules favour the men, yet so many young boys choose to live in the feminine. A space where good girls are taught to focus not on their looks and to cover from their shoulders to their knee’s, yet simply the pigment of their skin, can define both their class and their future. It was a confusing world, but it was one filled with sunset covered paddy fields, charming, genuine smiles and welcoming food that tasted divine.
However, the contradictions that troubled me most, were not from what I observations, but rather, from how I felt. To this very day, years later, I sit noting that living away from my family in a new, mysterious land was one of the hardest things I have ever done. Yet as I think these thoughts, my heart cries to return; wishing I could explain to those I loved each detail of complexity. Then I remember a moment, simple and pure, that sums up these feelings in a snapshot.
It was 24th October. Monsoon rains gathered around the school complex, as the teachers of Nakae Phittayakhom decided that this was the perfect day to celebrate halloween. I walked into my first class of the week, watermelons in hand, ready to carve faces into the closest pumpkin shaped fruit I could find. A ring of friendly voices echoed "morning teacher" as I placed them onto the desk and explained.
That morning I had cried, just as I had each day before, confused about the mixed emotions of excitement and loneliness. But little did I know, this would be the last day that the water hitting my face would come from anywhere but the clouds.
I explained the concept of halloween to my students and watched as a wave of faces lit up with relief and intrigue, as they realised todays class would be a practical lesson. Groups formed and eager teenagers got hard to work, too engrossed in the task to realise they had been speaking to me in English, free of apprehension. The room charged with a bubble of noise that could make even the loneliest of people feel full inside.
I carried on with every class, growing in confidence by the hour, until finally Friday came. By the time the week was complete, I had over 50 carving creations lined across the garden. On the patio, I thought of the trick or treaters back home, as I illuminated each and every face that encircled my house.
My usual visitors from nearby arrived. We sat, we ate, we gazed and we laughed. This was my community. At last, I was home.