Thursday, December 08, 2011

Blog Post written December 2nd, 2011

Yesterday marked three months of calling this Shan village home, and
yesterday I moved into my first permanent home. Yesterday also marked
one month of having lived with my students in the girls' dorm, and I
felt a few tears well up in gratitude towards these girls as I spent
my final moments in their dorm. They have showed me so much about
community and love that I could not have understood without them.
Though in the end I decided I had to move out, because inwardly my
heart was starving for those deep moments of solitude, by which I have
always survived, I cannot speak enough about what these teenage girls
did for me. I was their teacher and several years older than them, but
they embraced me as a sister and shared all that they had with me.
Never in my life have I experienced anything close or equivalent, and
I will take those memories with me to the grave. Sweetly when these
girls learned that the “new house” was being given to me, they
immediately surrounded me with sad faces and complaints. I could not
ask to have lived anywhere more loving. Sharing a room with ten girls
was the best thing that ever happened to me, and I will never ever
forget it.

But... not counting the 10 girls I just lived with for a month, I have
lived long-term with 38 different people in the last 8 years in
20-some different bedrooms. I wake up confused every single day. I
long to simply wake up, knowing where I am, knowing that I am home. So
to finally step out of my chronic transitional state, I moved out... a
few hundred yards. Of course, with every intention of spending hours
with my sisters of the girls' dorm everyday. And eating every meal
with them. And already feeling the love of their visits. Though life
changes a bit, once built, some things simply cannot disappear. As I
said, sharing a room with 10 teenage girls was the best thing ever for
me.

And now I've moved into a small stucco bungalow built by a bunch eager
teenage boys (the paint job shows it), who have only asked to be paid
in sharing a cup of coffee with me. Honestly, I'm still in awe. I
never thought I would have this nice of a house all to myself. It's
probably a 12 ft x 12 ft room, with a cement floor, covered in blue
linoleum roll. The walls were made of cinder block and then stuccoed
over. The window is glass. The roof is very high and tin. My house is
attached to the generator, and I even have a light switch. I realize
these statements of surplus probably mean nothing to you and
everything to me. Yet this house was not built for me but for another
(an older man, on whom the greatest honor is always bestowed), who
decided he would live elsewhere. Somehow I was then offered this
little bungalow house. It's definitely built within the local economy,
but with the small details that make it special. Truthfully I feel
wealthy with solid walls and deep, deep relationships. I am
overwhelmed.

And the teaching continues... And my students are learning... And I
find my heart tied ever more deeply into the fates of all around me.