Teaching in Thailand

Feels like a dream.

5 years ago I was in Thailand, teaching English to 50+ students per class.

3rd and 4th graders.

2% of the class knowing broken English.

I was an observer.  A learner. A seeker of the unknown.

As the weeks passed, I started noticing something.

I didn't have to know the language, I could observe the behavior, investigate the feelings.

I saw friends fist-fighting over being made fun of.

I saw young couples sneaking kisses and holding hands.

I saw teachers laughing and gossiping.

I saw lonely kids who were overweight.

I couldn't speak their language and they couldn't speak mine.

But I could connect with them.

I could give them hugs and try to teach them songs.

I could give them laughter.

I could teach them how to wave hello and goodbye.

I could give them eye contact and hold their hand.

I could give them quality time.

5 years of being back in Seattle.

Keeping my wanderlust in my back pocket, letting it sit there like a benchwarmer.

Getting cheap thrills on weekend trips, conversations with taxi drivers

and googling images of faraway places.

There is nothing like traveling, nothing like surrounding yourself by a culture that is not your own, listening to a language you do not speak, nor understand.

The gifts are often received years later.  The gifts you don't know you are receiving, until one day, you wake up 5 years later and realize how valuable life is.

How grateful you can be knowing that you've found your tribe, or your tribe has found you.