It feels like autumn back at home, and autumn gives me weird *FeEliNgs* every year. I get antsy. Restless. It's probably residual anxiety from a lifetime of associating fall with a new school year, and I can't help but feel a mixture of melancholy and excitement for the inevitable change that's o'comin.
And it is coming, soon. I've only got two weeks left in this town. This town that I have both cursed and cherished, 50/50. For instance, today I had to petal uphill on my rusty bike a mile to the market for my weekly vegetable run. My bike basket is small, and wobbling back home with my heavy load while my Thai neighbors laugh at me is NOT something that I will miss. Damn I miss my Jeep.
And yet, as I was turning off the lights in my classroom today, I noticed something written on the whiteboard. "Love Teacher Erin!" it said. And love me they do. Everyday I am crushed under eager hugs followed by a chorus of "hello teacha!!" What amazes me especially is that these aren't "little" children. They're middle and high-school age. They don't love easily. I had to work for this affection. And so soon, I will be leaving it.
Comparing my experience in Thailand has been sort of like running a half marathon. When I raced in 2013, I had never run more than seven miles at a time before. Suddenly I was faced with thirteen. I was underprepared, to say the least, to run such a distance. In the same way, I was totally native thinking I was ready to teach. I had a degree in English. I took the TEFL course. I'd been a camp counselor. But teaching children that don't speak your language is unlike anything I could have prepared myself for. It was completely trial by error. Just as the race, the first few miles and the first few months were rough. I was exhausted. Terrified by the time left in front of me.
Somewhere around mile 8 and month 4, I kicked into autopilot. It's hard to pin down exactly when teaching became easier; my body just sort of took over and my mind finally quieted down. I began to really enjoy my students. Golly, they make me laugh. Especially when they're not trying. They are more innocent, somehow, than their Western counterpart. Perhaps it's because they have, and expect, less.
Right now, I'm on mile 12. I can see the finish line. I don't want to limp across it. I want to run across in the most cheesy, joyful, arms open way I can. I want to blow kisses to my adoring audience.
My students and I finally "get" each other. I may not know exactly what they're saying, but do understand, somehow. It's amazing how easy it can be to communicate using minimal words.
I hope my students know how much I adore them. Sure, I want to wring some necks on a daily basis, but at the end of the day, it's nothing but love.
No comments:
Post a Comment