Kit-tuhng

PST is rapidly coming to a close. I've grown close to my family, my community, my fellow trainees, and even the training staff. I always knew that the training environment would be temporary, but I never bothered to think about how I would feel about it ever coming to an end. Sometimes I prefer to just go through an experience without worrying about what's next and the emotional aspect of it all. This time, I'm not so lucky.

For the past few days, my family has been very sentimental towards me, saying how much they are going to miss me and that I need to call and let them know where I am and how I'm doing, they joke that I will forget about them. I remind that I'm not leaving tomorrow and that I'll be in Thailand for two years, and I assure them that I won't forget them and that I will call and that they can visit me.

As I leave home and go into my community, I encounter individuals who I don't recall previously meeting, and they greet me by name, or I might be wandering in an unfamiliar part of town for training or an event and experience the same thing. Kids on the road no longer yell "farang, farang!" (foreigner) as I ride by. The folks at the restaurant not only know my name and my usual, but they also know me well enough to suggest new dishes for me to try, and I have yet to be disappointed. I will miss them all.

One day last week, I lost track of time editing my blog at the end of the day, so I got home late. I apologized to my overly worried parents, and a couple days later, I stuck around to chat with a couple of the other trainees, and the custodian told me that I should go home otherwise my parents will scold me. Yesterday I stayed in for a few extra minutes preparing a project, and one of the desk officers pretty much told me the same thing. All I can say is - What a village!

I've been developing meaningful friendships within my training group, but in just a couple weeks, it will all change. We will leave our families and our community as we conclude our Pre-Service Training, at which point we hope to be nominated for service, after which, we will be sworn in as official Peace Corps Volunteers. We will then be separated from each other and shipped off to various parts of the country to meet our new families and to begin integrating into the communities which will be our homes for the next two years. At this point, we begin to do the good work that we came here to do.

Before I went to bed last night, I sat with my yai to gin kanom (eat a snack) as she watched her soap opera (yeah, I was kinda watching it too), and she said "Yai ja kit-tuhng Mitch-eo, kit-tuhng mak ma. Yai raak Mitch-eo yerk yerk. Raak. Yaak yuu tii nii, bahn tii nii, naan song bpii. Yaak mai? Koa jai mai?" Basically, she'll miss me a lot, she loves me very much, she wants me to stay here, in her house, for two years, and then she asked what I wanted and if I understood.

I told her I will miss her too, and that I would like to stay but I can't, but I will call. That's the extent of my language skills on the topic, we smiled, shared a chuckle, and then she shooed me off to bed.