"Teacher, why are you so mean?"

“Teacher, why are you so mean?”

That’s what one of my students asked me, my favorite student actually, on my last day in Cambodia. But before getting into that story, let’s go back to August 2015 – before I even left for Cambodia.

Last year, a few of my friends and coworkers asked if I thought I might stay longer than the six months I had originally committed to. I always told them that I was open to that possibility. I really enjoy working at the Gates Foundation, but as many people know, I’m not innately passionate about business process or IT (surprise, surprise). I like that what I do helps the foundation be more efficient and ultimately to be able to help people around the world better, but I’m relatively far removed from the end benefit. I also love love love my coworkers (shout out to IW!), but my job wasn’t something I felt was necessarily a calling I had to stay in. My goal in Cambodia was to work directly with kids impacted by sex trafficking/abuse, which I have a more deep-seated passion for, and which is why I kept an open mind and knew that six months could potentially lead to more.

That was my mindset before I left. To be honest, once I got out here and living on my own in Cambodia set in more, the possibility of staying longer than six months decreased by the day. Part of it was that I wasn’t very busy in the beginning, and didn’t feel like I was being very helpful. Part of it was that I really missed my family and friends back home and didn’t know how long I could last on my own in a foreign country. So I went from being very open to the possibility of staying longer to being pretty confident I wouldn’t stay longer than the original six months, in a very short amount of time.

Then I started to hit a bit of a groove a couple of months in. I was consistently teaching English at a friend school twice a day and was building a really good rapport with my students, especially my advanced class at night where I could be much more creative in how/what I taught. I also started working with girls who had been sexually abused or trafficked at an aftercare home, which was what I really, really wanted to help out in. I was able to both learn more about the issue of sex trafficking, the approach for aftercare, and most importantly I got to just interact with the girls and be a small part of their lives. I taught English as well as ukulele and guitar, which gave me a chance to interact with most of the girls in various ways.

I also got a lot more comfortable just living in Cambodia. I spoke a bit more Khmer, could understand a lot more, was able to get around on my own on my moto, made a few friends, and in essence felt less like a fish out of water. I had my routines, I had my independence, and I had growing relationships. But I still wasn’t sure I wanted to stay much longer than my original commitment. I think a part of that was due to the fact that I have really great friends and family back home. And not matter what community I made out in Cambodia, I didn’t feel it would compare with the people back home. The other part of it was that the grass is always greener. I missed my other normal life back home, and the longer I was away, the better I remembered life in Seattle (some true, some exaggerated).

So my mind was still pretty made up. Six months. I knew I would really miss working with the kids, but I didn’t fully appreciate the impact I would make on them, and how important they were to me until my last month out here.

For many things, progress is made so slowly that from day-to-day nothing really feels different. And I think that’s how I felt with the kids. I so loved working with both my groups of students, but because our relationship built so gradually, I didn’t think much of what it had become months into the relationship. But it hit really hit home when we started to say our goodbyes and I was able to look back and see how far I had come with my students.

At the aftercare home, the girls planned an ice cream party for me the day before I left. Then about half of the girls came up and shared a little about their experiences and what they enjoyed doing with me. Some even did it in English, which took a lot of bravery. It was as sweet as you can imagine, and I was close to tears a few times. They shared about playing games, watching Pixar movies (Wall-E and Up are my two personal favorites), playing sports in the front parking lot, learning musical instruments, and some of the trinkets I brought them from my travels. We also had a little concert with my guitar and ukulele students to perform all of the songs we had learned throughout the almost-five months. It was cute how nervous my guitar students got. They kept asking to make the ukuleles go first, but we went first anyway and they played the song perfectly, which of course I knew they would J. The ukulele girls were a lot more laid back. They got up there, killed their two songs, smiled, high-fived me, and sat back down. Thinking back to how shy and reserved they were with me when I first met them in October reminded me how far we had come – the confidence they had in both English and music classes compared to the first day is pretty amazing to think of. Before I left, they all circled me and prayed. I couldn’t understand most of them, but I felt very cared for and blessed.

The caretakers asked me to share some words with the girls. I shared a few things with them, but the most important thing I wanted them to remember was that they were deeply cared for and worthy of being loved. And that if I were to ever have a daughter, I would be over the moon if she was anything like them.

With my advanced English class, Michael and the rest of the students planned a boat cruise on the Mekong for my going away. It’s so not easy to plan large group events during rush hour when everyone has to commute via moto, so I really appreciated their thoughtfulness. Oh, and they brought fried chicken. They know me so well.

Preppin' that fried chicken!

Post-boat ride fun at Diamond Island.

My romantic ferris wheel ride with my better half, Michael.

The next night for our last class, I asked my students to share some of their favorite memories of class, or things they especially remembered. A few shared about certain “words of the day” we learned and how they wanted to apply them in the future – flexibility, empathy, integrity to name a few. It made me proud that they remembered so many of the lessons we had learned over the prior few months. And then we ended the night with what we always do to celebrate things in Cambodia – smoothies. And if that send-off wasn’t enough, a handful of my students skipped school the next day (definitely not endorsed by me!) to see me off at the airport.

Smoothies to celebrate an awesome class.

One last iced coffee. My first and last stops in Cambodia.

School, schmool.

Oh yea, and on my last (late) night, Michael and the boys celebrated with me with a few too many beers and $1 whiskey, which was just the best.

$1 whiskey with coconut juice and Cambodia beer make me happy, but not my stomach so much.

Jason wondering what grave mistake we'd made.

 Just four guys posing shirtless in the streets at 3am.

When I get home and have some time to decompress and look at my experience with a little more objectivity, I’ll be able to discern how I stay connected with the my students and the work that I loved being a part of. I’ll already stay connected with the aftercare home by continuing to help them with some grant-writing. And in working with a few awesome people, we were able to connect a handful of students with scholarships to university, which will be a great excuse to stay in close contact with them. So I’ll have at least that, but I’m going to be open to what else might reveal itself over the coming months. I also told them when they graduate university or if they get married, I’d do my best to fly back and celebrate with them (I also promised I'd sing at one of their weddings...)

Difficult goodbyes are difficult (yea, I’m pretty insightful), but I’m always happy when they occur because it means I've made a deep connection with someone. And it gives me that much more reason to turn the “goodbye” into a “see you later.”

OK, so to that question, “Teacher, why are you so mean?” It was my last day in Cambodia and one of my favorite students, Champa, called me and immediately asked me that question. I was confused, and asked what I did. “You’re mean for making me miss you!” (She's the sweetest, right?) I told her if that was the case, then she was equally as guilty.

I just adore this girl.

I’m immensely grateful that I get to miss her, along with the rest of my students, but I’m also excited and expectant for what comes next in our relationships.