I understand at the moment that I am an absolutely terrible blogger. Like absolutely, without a doubt, the worst there could possibly be. My intention to blog has become much like my intention to take crisp, clear photos on my expensive, perfect camera- utterly overwhelmed by my desire to do it all. Let me put it this way: when I go out to a wonderful little restaurant and crack open the menu only to find hundreds of the most mouth-watering foods imaginable, I take a polite look, salivate uncontrollably, and then continue to shut the menu. Too many delicious choices equals brain spazz which equals....abandon ship. That is what's happening here. Too many amazing experiences to blog about, too many incomparable photos to take...
too much for me to handle.
The past few weeks have been filled with, again, the most exemplary experiences of my life. Last week we went on a "home stay" to live with a Burmese refugee camp and provide labor and support in whichever areas they saw fit. After a seven hour (and incredibly crowded) car ride into the middle of what I can only describe as the set of Mighty Joe Young, we arrived at our destination in the most green, lush area I have ever had the privilege of visiting. This is where the biggest learning experience of my life begins.
As we all sat in a giant circle in the middle of an empty temple, we were told the story. These wonderfully kind-hearted people were practically forced to make their ways out of their homes, the only country they have ever known, in two thousand and one. Feeling as though their government was quickly turning corrupt after the lives of so many innocents were wrongfully taken, they fled with their children and belongings into the secure borders of Thailand. However, Thailand would only offer them a "temporary" refugee camp, meaning they do not receive many of the "privileges" that many villages in the area (privileges such as, you know, electricity) receive. They've been living in such a way for over ten years.
I stayed on the floor of a temple and in this camp for two nights before we moved along to the next area for the week, and it only took two nights and days of such intense living situations to nearly make me break down. I am a tough girl- and I have not exactly been living in a luxurious paradise for the past six weeks- but being denied the simplest of "every day" commonalities was enough to really make me re-evaluate. As I handed out old, tattered clothes to villagers of all ages and sizes, I really began to understand the extent of my blessings.
And yet, the people were of course as kind as could be. Treating us as if we were little nieces, nephews, or grandchildren, they took care of us and gave us a place to stay while we offered assistance. This temporary camp is not allowed visitors, so we were ushered into the temples at night to keep us safe, as temples are a place of sanctuary and cannot be touched by the government. The following days consisted of eating the daily "gatherings", making chalkboards, and sleeping on concrete while intertwined in the dusty fumes of mosquito nets.
Today is Thanksgiving, and just like my birthday and Halloween, I am constantly battling any slight feeling of homesickness with the intense gratitude of this experience. I know that everyone at home is eating turkey mashed potatoes, and pumpkin pie (even typing that made my stomach flip in desire), but I am happy to report that this year, I enjoyed pumpkin curry with a very unique, and yet very real, type of family.
I only have two more days here at the Mirror Foundation, but I will leave that to an entire separate blog completely as I am currently distracted by friends and mosquitoes. No complaints.
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.
Thursday, November 22, 2012
Sunday, November 4, 2012
Today and Everyday
The large, open window directly next to me at this quaint midtown bakery is proving to be a source of incredible, thought-provoking entertainment. Tourists with giant back-breaking backpacks (surely the current home of all of their possessions), small blue tuk-tuks that look like tiny beetles scooting about the highway, rows of bicycles and motorbikes lining the road, and a grand bus terminal accepting tourists and bringing them to their next adventures.
I woke up this morning with an unfamiliar panic. A panic that I am certain I would never have felt in the States. The type of panic that is actually not a panic at all, but the source felt so strange and unfamiliar I had no idea how to respond to it. And here it is:
"What the heck am I going to do today? I have no plans!"
Can you believe that crap? I live my life at home, each and ever day, with a set schedule of tasks and to-do's. Lists are made, running tabs are kept in my head, and the constant thought of "man, am I exhausted" nags at me. Like so many around me, the idea of a task-less day is not only unfamiliar, it is completely alien. My day has been sprawled out in front of me as an open canvas or a "choose your own adventure" book, and I had the audacity to let that discomfort me for a few irresponsible moments. I find that this alien way of life has been the backbone of many of my journeys here. I wake up and my day is filled with that question, the same question I've ignored to ask myself for years. "What do I want to do today?"
Yoga? Sure, right down the street. Massage? Definitely. Ostrich riding? Let's do it. I settled on starting my day at the bakery with a quick blog update and a slice of warm, calorie-filled carrot cake- and you know why? Because I can. Today, the day is mine; that's one of the most beautiful parts of this adventure.
Time to go as I only got a free 15 minutes on the internet. Thailand is forcing me out to adventure. I'm not complaining.
Thursday, November 1, 2012
Happy Halloween!
As the days flutter by, I am finding myself increasingly at home here. The little changes in my routine that I primarily saw as inconveniences have become a natural part of my every day life. As I exited the freezing cold shower late last night, I looked to my roommates and said "I'm not sure if I am just learning to tolerate that, or if I am actually starting to prefer it." Rice for breakfast, running around barefoot, sharing a room with five other girls, riding in the beds of trucks: these have all become a part of the life that I live now. I'm used to taking only the bare minimum rather than indulging in everything that I've been blessed with back home, and I believe that in only a few short weeks, my appreciation for even the simplest of pleasures has been amplified. Coffee in the morning...woah, what's the occasion? Waking up with only three bug bites...winning! Toilet paper in the bathroom...holy crap! I'm amazed at how the lack of these things hasn't made me miss them, but rather just adore them more when they are there. Tonight I sat in the outdoor kitchen area and treated myself to a warm cup of coffee in a large mug. A wonderful treat indeed.
A few days ago, the volunteer gang and myself decided that there was no way were going to let a Halloween pass by unrecognized. This mostly went for the American volunteers as our Australian and English friends didn't quite understand, but they were so excited for it! One Australian in particular, Steve, completely spearheaded the day by purchasing candy for everyone and making us say trick or treat. He continued to exclaim "Oh my first Halloween! This is so exciting! Are we doing it right?" with the goofiest, childlike smile on his face. It was adorable. Anyway, we all went into town the night before and, as they don't celebrate it here, attempted to find just a little something to wear as a costume. Glasses, little mouse ears, a mask or two; nothing extravagant or like I would be witnessing at home but we were absolutely thrilled. The night of, we got dressed up in whatever little thing we bought (I painted my face...actually much better than I thought I would) and made a large bonfire in the middle of an open field. We ate the little candies that Steve provided us with, sat around the campfire, and took turns telling our scariest stories for hours on end. Surrounded by trees, darkness, and new friends, I stared at the thousands of stars in the night sky and, again, felt the familiar sense of gratitude. Not a drop of alcohol was sipped, no intense costumes were worn. Just us, in the middle of nowhere, having a much different Halloween than we have ever had before. Some of us for the first time ever.
Happy Halloween to everyone back home!
A few days ago, the volunteer gang and myself decided that there was no way were going to let a Halloween pass by unrecognized. This mostly went for the American volunteers as our Australian and English friends didn't quite understand, but they were so excited for it! One Australian in particular, Steve, completely spearheaded the day by purchasing candy for everyone and making us say trick or treat. He continued to exclaim "Oh my first Halloween! This is so exciting! Are we doing it right?" with the goofiest, childlike smile on his face. It was adorable. Anyway, we all went into town the night before and, as they don't celebrate it here, attempted to find just a little something to wear as a costume. Glasses, little mouse ears, a mask or two; nothing extravagant or like I would be witnessing at home but we were absolutely thrilled. The night of, we got dressed up in whatever little thing we bought (I painted my face...actually much better than I thought I would) and made a large bonfire in the middle of an open field. We ate the little candies that Steve provided us with, sat around the campfire, and took turns telling our scariest stories for hours on end. Surrounded by trees, darkness, and new friends, I stared at the thousands of stars in the night sky and, again, felt the familiar sense of gratitude. Not a drop of alcohol was sipped, no intense costumes were worn. Just us, in the middle of nowhere, having a much different Halloween than we have ever had before. Some of us for the first time ever.
Happy Halloween to everyone back home!
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
Chiang Rai or Bust!
This blogging thing has become much more difficult than previously anticipated as much more seems to be occurring in my life than I have time to update. But I think that I will take that as a great sign and a wonderful thing.
After long weeks of teaching and running around with little ones at the foundation, it is no secret that the volunteers are thrilled for the weekends. When three o'clock hits on Saturday afternoons, excitement is buzzing, and we are not slow to pack up our backpacks, climb into the back of a Songtao, and make our way into the city. Finally: we can wear shirts that don't cover our shoulders and shorts that are shorter than our knees! Sad part is, we usually wear these things as they are all that we brought with us. Oh well, at least we know that we could if we wanted to. Freedom.
We usually head into Chiang Rai and stay at the lovely Boon Ban Dan hostel at the center of the city, but this weekend we decided to mix it up a tad and grab a bus down to Chiang Mai. Chiang Mai is about a three hour bus ride south and a major hotspot for tourists and backpackers. Upon arriving at roughly 9:30 on Saturday night, I immediately fell in love. The city was reminiscent of many major cities at home while maintaining an authentic Thai atmosphere. After a couple weeks of being denied certain homely pleasures, the ability to go out to a nice bar and speak a bit of English with some fellow travelers was amazing. The town was crawling with backpackers who were either stopping in for the evening or traveling through to their next destination- which I believe added to the aura of adventure that surrounded me. It was thrilling to look around and know that most of these people have taken the risk to explore just as I have (and could probably teach me a thing or two.) Chang Mai was not only beautiful, but it gave me the taste of home that I was unaware I missed so much. Our nights were spent dancing at nearby bars, running around the city, and enjoying 4am Pad Thai. It was a lovely weekend.
And then things got interesting. As we packed to head home, we were very cautious of gathering the group in a timely fashion to be sure that we did not miss our bus. I don't think anything has ever been organized so poorly as we left late, lost various people on the way, and got stuck in gridlock traffic. We saw that our Songtao was moving about five feet in ten minutes, so we took it upon ourselves to grab our huge backpacks and sprint through the city. Sweat falling off of our faces, we continued to tell ourselves that surely the bus will be late and things will be just fine. I think we all secretly knew otherwise.
We missed our bus by three minutes and, as that was the last bus of the evening, were effectively stranded in the city. With the locations of many of our group members unknown, we carried on and decided that hitch hiking was the only option. Signs made, thumbs out, here we go.
I'd like to tell you that a long distance food truck pulled over and drove us all to freedom, but that was not the case. We ended up paying a fair amount to be practically taxi'd three hours away with our plethora of camera bags, backpacks, and personal belongings surrounding us. We laughed the entire way. I've always believed that the greatest of stories are made when things do not go according to plan but instead challenge and excite us. The thrill of sprinting through the foreign city and coming together with my volunteer family was an experience I will never forget. This place never fails to surprise me.
After long weeks of teaching and running around with little ones at the foundation, it is no secret that the volunteers are thrilled for the weekends. When three o'clock hits on Saturday afternoons, excitement is buzzing, and we are not slow to pack up our backpacks, climb into the back of a Songtao, and make our way into the city. Finally: we can wear shirts that don't cover our shoulders and shorts that are shorter than our knees! Sad part is, we usually wear these things as they are all that we brought with us. Oh well, at least we know that we could if we wanted to. Freedom.
We usually head into Chiang Rai and stay at the lovely Boon Ban Dan hostel at the center of the city, but this weekend we decided to mix it up a tad and grab a bus down to Chiang Mai. Chiang Mai is about a three hour bus ride south and a major hotspot for tourists and backpackers. Upon arriving at roughly 9:30 on Saturday night, I immediately fell in love. The city was reminiscent of many major cities at home while maintaining an authentic Thai atmosphere. After a couple weeks of being denied certain homely pleasures, the ability to go out to a nice bar and speak a bit of English with some fellow travelers was amazing. The town was crawling with backpackers who were either stopping in for the evening or traveling through to their next destination- which I believe added to the aura of adventure that surrounded me. It was thrilling to look around and know that most of these people have taken the risk to explore just as I have (and could probably teach me a thing or two.) Chang Mai was not only beautiful, but it gave me the taste of home that I was unaware I missed so much. Our nights were spent dancing at nearby bars, running around the city, and enjoying 4am Pad Thai. It was a lovely weekend.
And then things got interesting. As we packed to head home, we were very cautious of gathering the group in a timely fashion to be sure that we did not miss our bus. I don't think anything has ever been organized so poorly as we left late, lost various people on the way, and got stuck in gridlock traffic. We saw that our Songtao was moving about five feet in ten minutes, so we took it upon ourselves to grab our huge backpacks and sprint through the city. Sweat falling off of our faces, we continued to tell ourselves that surely the bus will be late and things will be just fine. I think we all secretly knew otherwise.
We missed our bus by three minutes and, as that was the last bus of the evening, were effectively stranded in the city. With the locations of many of our group members unknown, we carried on and decided that hitch hiking was the only option. Signs made, thumbs out, here we go.
I'd like to tell you that a long distance food truck pulled over and drove us all to freedom, but that was not the case. We ended up paying a fair amount to be practically taxi'd three hours away with our plethora of camera bags, backpacks, and personal belongings surrounding us. We laughed the entire way. I've always believed that the greatest of stories are made when things do not go according to plan but instead challenge and excite us. The thrill of sprinting through the foreign city and coming together with my volunteer family was an experience I will never forget. This place never fails to surprise me.
Friday, October 26, 2012
"Volunteers Finally Beautiful!"
With the past few days of slight homesickness looming over me, I fully anticipated to have a not-so-special birthday away from my family and friends. I am not a crazy birthday person to begin with, so I assumed that perhaps this year's festivities could simply be a non-existent. Maybe I could close my eyes, cover my ears, and let it sneakishly slip past as I hum an innocent song and look in the opposite direction. Well, I was wrong.
I was immediately awoken the morning of by hugs and well wishes from the girls who stay in my "dorm." People at breakfast surprised me with a board of "Happy Birthday Maegan" in several languages and I even received a cake, balloons, and beautifully created card at lunch. Let me tell you, cake is not something we easily just come by down here. I know that the effort to get it was not slight but was rather an exhaustive effort that required a taxi and plenty of time. But the reward was well worth it. We were all so excited to have even a single slice of something sugary and delicious. It was incredible.
Most of the volunteers are at a home stay this week, meaning that they are off at surrounding villages and helping them with whatever assistance they need for the week (I go in two weeks!). So, it is safe to say it is very empty around here. That did not stop the five remaining girls who are here from attempting to show me an unforgettable time. We got dressed up (hello, make-up, haven't seen you in weeks), ordered a little "taxi" to drive us into town, and enjoyed a lovely meal in a beautiful setting. Before we left, Katoon, one of the volunteer directors, saw us in "regular" clothes and make-up and immediately shouted "volunteers finally beautiful!" Well thank you, Katoon, yes we do not always look like crazy jungle women. Only 99.5% of the time.
While we were enjoying dinner and live music outside, my friend Yvonne immediately (and secretly) went up and asked them to sing happy birthday to me. You could probably see my blushing cheeks from space, but I was truly grateful. It is just amazing to me how people who have known me for such a short time are willing to go out of their way to make sure that I have the time of my life. We sat in the back of the truck on the way home singing cheesy songs at the top of our lungs and feeling wildly carefree. I remember looking right at the stars as the wind was blowing past my face and thinking , "this is what it's all about."
My birthdays have always consisted of the same friends and family that I hold so dear- the ones who I could not imagine spending a birthday without. However, this year was special. This year involved a foreign country, a huge step, and faces that I knew I would probably never celebrate with again. These girls, this setting, this time. They all transformed the day into a moment in time that will never and could never be exactly recreated. I thought that would make it worse- the fact that it was so different. I had no idea that that's exactly what would make it one of the best I've had.
Thank you to everyone!
I was immediately awoken the morning of by hugs and well wishes from the girls who stay in my "dorm." People at breakfast surprised me with a board of "Happy Birthday Maegan" in several languages and I even received a cake, balloons, and beautifully created card at lunch. Let me tell you, cake is not something we easily just come by down here. I know that the effort to get it was not slight but was rather an exhaustive effort that required a taxi and plenty of time. But the reward was well worth it. We were all so excited to have even a single slice of something sugary and delicious. It was incredible.
Most of the volunteers are at a home stay this week, meaning that they are off at surrounding villages and helping them with whatever assistance they need for the week (I go in two weeks!). So, it is safe to say it is very empty around here. That did not stop the five remaining girls who are here from attempting to show me an unforgettable time. We got dressed up (hello, make-up, haven't seen you in weeks), ordered a little "taxi" to drive us into town, and enjoyed a lovely meal in a beautiful setting. Before we left, Katoon, one of the volunteer directors, saw us in "regular" clothes and make-up and immediately shouted "volunteers finally beautiful!" Well thank you, Katoon, yes we do not always look like crazy jungle women. Only 99.5% of the time.
While we were enjoying dinner and live music outside, my friend Yvonne immediately (and secretly) went up and asked them to sing happy birthday to me. You could probably see my blushing cheeks from space, but I was truly grateful. It is just amazing to me how people who have known me for such a short time are willing to go out of their way to make sure that I have the time of my life. We sat in the back of the truck on the way home singing cheesy songs at the top of our lungs and feeling wildly carefree. I remember looking right at the stars as the wind was blowing past my face and thinking , "this is what it's all about."
My birthdays have always consisted of the same friends and family that I hold so dear- the ones who I could not imagine spending a birthday without. However, this year was special. This year involved a foreign country, a huge step, and faces that I knew I would probably never celebrate with again. These girls, this setting, this time. They all transformed the day into a moment in time that will never and could never be exactly recreated. I thought that would make it worse- the fact that it was so different. I had no idea that that's exactly what would make it one of the best I've had.
Thank you to everyone!
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
Well, here goes.
I'd like to preface this entry by saying thank you, Corinne. You truly are a geisha goddess for creating such a lovely blog for me to compile my updates. This one will be lengthy as I have a lot to catch up on.
As I sit in this non-airconditioned room and attempt to gather my thousands of thoughts, one thing jumpts to mind first: why oh why did I not begin this blog at the beginning of my stay in Chiang Rai? It would surely help me in attempting to compile the stories and adventures that have blessed me, surprised me, and challenged me this past week and a half. However, here I am, sweaty, covered in bug bites, and excited to disclose what this experience has taught me thus far.
For those who don't know, last Saturday, the 13th, I nervously jumped onto a plane to head off into what I knew would be one of the greatest adventures of my life. Thankfully Corinne joined me a few days earlier to help me keep my head on straight and grasp what was actually about to happen as I could not seem to understand it myself. I was heading to my new home in Chiang Rai, Thailand where I am currently located and will be teaching English for the next eight weeks. Once my time here is done, I will be travelling through some other parts of Southeast Asia as well as Australia (if time allows) for a few additional months. Leaving my friends and loved ones behind has been the most challenging part of this undertaking, but my experiences have completely dominated any homesick feelings that fleetingly cross my mind. All it takes is a glance into the beautiful green hills that surround me to remember how truly lucky I am.
Currently, I am located at a small village named the Mirror Foundation which lies just outside of Chiang Rai. Located deep into the hills, the fact that I occasionally get wifi is nothing short of a miracle. I am not kidding, open up a page of any National Geographic magazine and you can maybe get a glimpse into the life that I am currently living. My body is absolutely covered in mosquito bites ("mossies" as my Australian and British friends call them), I gather my own fruit most mornings, I have recognized shoes as unnecessary, I see toilet paper as a luxury, and remember hot water for showering as only a distant, far off memory. But do not let these statements fool you: I am loving every single solitary thing. Each discomfort has challenged me to not only adapt, but to relish in the fact that although I did not see it, I have led a luxurious and regal life thus far. Without the comforts of home surrounding me, people as well as posessions, I have already learned to rely on myself more than I ever have.
That goes for meeting people as well- being thrown into a situation where you know not a single person really makes you evaluate not only the person you portray yourself as, but the person that you aspire to be. For the past week and a half I have been surrounded by people of all kinds, and yet none of them truly know me. How could they? In such a short time we have only just begun to disclose even the slightest bits of intimate details, and I quickly recognized the fact that these people do not know my quirks. They do not know my fears, my past, my ticklish spots, or my list of favorites. Only I know myself, and that has really been one of the most eye-opening parts of this experience. I can sit aside and surrender to shyness, or march up to each person individually and introduce myself. I choose the latter.
With that said, these people are absolutely beautiful. Both the people that I volunteer with as well as the people of this country are simply remarkable. The volunteers come from all over the world; we laugh about the funny ways we say things, the differences in our hometowns, and our stories of far off places. These people have some of the most beautiful stories, goals, and dreams that I have ever heard, and they have all given their time, just as I have, to make a difference. As for the Thais...my God. They were not exaggerating when they said that this is the land of smiles. I have seen countless orphans play with a single toy for hours straight, laughing incessantly and never losing a smile. And by toy...I mean a straw. They can make games out of everything and anything and they are absolutely fearless. I small girl saw that I was sad that I had left my book next to a swarm of bees so she instantly ran to go grab it for me. My heart about stopped, but it really showed me that, even as children, they are completely selfless.
My days have been composed of teaching children, teaching monks, arts and craftsing with ill children in hospitals, and playing with children at the orphanages. The smiles around me have never stopped, and I am both amazed and inspired. Everyone is so thankful for the opportunity to learn and recieve the help that they need and absoutely nothing seems to be taken for granted. In days like today and yesterday, where the homesickness creeps in, it's easy to remember that this opportunity is the biggest blessing that I have had thus far- I am the one who will be taking nothing for granted.
I could go on for days as to what I have seen in this past week and a half, but I am sure that this is long enough for my first post. I will be in touch...so long as someone doesn't sneeze and make us lose wifi for a week.
Thinking of you all on the other side of the world. :)
As I sit in this non-airconditioned room and attempt to gather my thousands of thoughts, one thing jumpts to mind first: why oh why did I not begin this blog at the beginning of my stay in Chiang Rai? It would surely help me in attempting to compile the stories and adventures that have blessed me, surprised me, and challenged me this past week and a half. However, here I am, sweaty, covered in bug bites, and excited to disclose what this experience has taught me thus far.
For those who don't know, last Saturday, the 13th, I nervously jumped onto a plane to head off into what I knew would be one of the greatest adventures of my life. Thankfully Corinne joined me a few days earlier to help me keep my head on straight and grasp what was actually about to happen as I could not seem to understand it myself. I was heading to my new home in Chiang Rai, Thailand where I am currently located and will be teaching English for the next eight weeks. Once my time here is done, I will be travelling through some other parts of Southeast Asia as well as Australia (if time allows) for a few additional months. Leaving my friends and loved ones behind has been the most challenging part of this undertaking, but my experiences have completely dominated any homesick feelings that fleetingly cross my mind. All it takes is a glance into the beautiful green hills that surround me to remember how truly lucky I am.
Currently, I am located at a small village named the Mirror Foundation which lies just outside of Chiang Rai. Located deep into the hills, the fact that I occasionally get wifi is nothing short of a miracle. I am not kidding, open up a page of any National Geographic magazine and you can maybe get a glimpse into the life that I am currently living. My body is absolutely covered in mosquito bites ("mossies" as my Australian and British friends call them), I gather my own fruit most mornings, I have recognized shoes as unnecessary, I see toilet paper as a luxury, and remember hot water for showering as only a distant, far off memory. But do not let these statements fool you: I am loving every single solitary thing. Each discomfort has challenged me to not only adapt, but to relish in the fact that although I did not see it, I have led a luxurious and regal life thus far. Without the comforts of home surrounding me, people as well as posessions, I have already learned to rely on myself more than I ever have.
That goes for meeting people as well- being thrown into a situation where you know not a single person really makes you evaluate not only the person you portray yourself as, but the person that you aspire to be. For the past week and a half I have been surrounded by people of all kinds, and yet none of them truly know me. How could they? In such a short time we have only just begun to disclose even the slightest bits of intimate details, and I quickly recognized the fact that these people do not know my quirks. They do not know my fears, my past, my ticklish spots, or my list of favorites. Only I know myself, and that has really been one of the most eye-opening parts of this experience. I can sit aside and surrender to shyness, or march up to each person individually and introduce myself. I choose the latter.
With that said, these people are absolutely beautiful. Both the people that I volunteer with as well as the people of this country are simply remarkable. The volunteers come from all over the world; we laugh about the funny ways we say things, the differences in our hometowns, and our stories of far off places. These people have some of the most beautiful stories, goals, and dreams that I have ever heard, and they have all given their time, just as I have, to make a difference. As for the Thais...my God. They were not exaggerating when they said that this is the land of smiles. I have seen countless orphans play with a single toy for hours straight, laughing incessantly and never losing a smile. And by toy...I mean a straw. They can make games out of everything and anything and they are absolutely fearless. I small girl saw that I was sad that I had left my book next to a swarm of bees so she instantly ran to go grab it for me. My heart about stopped, but it really showed me that, even as children, they are completely selfless.
My days have been composed of teaching children, teaching monks, arts and craftsing with ill children in hospitals, and playing with children at the orphanages. The smiles around me have never stopped, and I am both amazed and inspired. Everyone is so thankful for the opportunity to learn and recieve the help that they need and absoutely nothing seems to be taken for granted. In days like today and yesterday, where the homesickness creeps in, it's easy to remember that this opportunity is the biggest blessing that I have had thus far- I am the one who will be taking nothing for granted.
I could go on for days as to what I have seen in this past week and a half, but I am sure that this is long enough for my first post. I will be in touch...so long as someone doesn't sneeze and make us lose wifi for a week.
Thinking of you all on the other side of the world. :)
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