My heart

I am overflowing with emotions this week. It is my final week serving as a Fulbright English Teaching Assistant in rural Malaysian Borneo. 

I have been counting down for the past 100 or so days. This year has been rough. I’ve been isolated, a 2 ½ hour drive from the closest ETAs and 4 hours from all the rest. My best friends are all 13-16 years old. Besides the isolation, this year has been challenging personally for more reasons than I ever imagined it would be. My heart is broken and it's entirely my fault. Plus it is too hot here for this Alaskan. There have been many days when I have questioned my will to stay in Malaysia. “If I’m not happy here, then why don’t I just leave?”, I’ve asked myself time and time again.

But then I go to school, and it makes sense. It isn’t the lesson plans or the school itself that has kept me here. It’s purely the students. How could I ever leave them before I have to? These kids are bursting with enthusiasm and love. Their attempts to get to know me and make me laugh have been incredible, even when the language barrier is real and we can barely understand one another. The way they greet me, “Good morning, teacher” and “How are you today, Miss?” puts a smile on my face. When my students share that they feel more confident and happy at school when I am there, I am delighted and given a sense of purpose. I have had the chance to provide my students with remarkable opportunities. I had the privilege of bringing one student for her first airplane ride. With the help of friends and family in the states, more than 100 underserved students now have access to guitars. A few weeks ago I brought 15 14-year old girls to a wildlife conservation center and their intelligence, senses of humor, and ambitious attitudes made me so incredibly proud to be their teacher.

My heart simultaneously becomes whole and breaks when my hostel girls hold my hands and walk me to the back gate after I visit them in the afternoons. I have to lock the gate between us when I go, yet they remain on their side of the gate, waving goodbye and calling out that they love me until I walk around the corner and they can’t see me anymore. I love them, too. They are my students, my teachers, my younger sisters, and the reason I stayed in Malaysia for the entire grant period. When I am low and in the times when I find that it is hard to love myself, I visit them and they fill me back up with joy.

This year has been worthwhile because I have learned about SE Asian cultures in a way I never could have otherwise. I am proud of myself for sticking through the personal and cultural challenges. I am proud of myself for consistently ordering meals in the local language and eating with chopsticks, despite being laughed at by surrounding customers. I am proud of choking down pig intestines in longhouses with a forced smile, because I know it is an honor to have food shared with you. Sharing food is the ultimate way of sharing one’s self and culture. I am proud that I mentored a team of capable young women to win 2^nd place in a national competition. I am proud that I have remained patient through seemingly endless communication barriers. I am proud that I did most of it alone, even though I wish I didn’t have to.

My heart is being pulled in two. I am ready to go, I really need to leave Sri Aman, but I love my kids so, so very much and I am heartbroken to know that I may never see them again. Even if I do see them again, it won’t be for many years and I fear that their youthful rebelliousness, their innocence, their love for me and my love for them will be diluted with time and space. The temporary nature of this grant is my saving grace and the same reason I want to freeze time forever.

I have tomorrow, Thursday, and Friday left at school. On Saturday I will spend the morning cleaning and packing, and then I will spend the night at the hostel with my girls. I fly to Kuala Lumpur on Sunday for a few days of meetings with the other ETAs. Then I am done, onto a new unknown adventure. Jumpa lagi, kawan kawan. Terima kasih.

With the hostel students after giving them 10 guitars.

With some silly form 2 students after making bags out of
recycled t-shirts.

At the Microsoft office in Kuala Lumpur learning how to
code with my social entrepreneurship team.

Lepaking with Lenja in the hostel after running in the rain.

Wearing the traditional Iban ngepan
with Valeiry at her family's longhouse.

This blog, "Uprooted", is not an official Fulbright Program site. The views expressed on this site are entirely those of its author and do not represent the views of the Fulbright Program, the U.S. Department of State, or any of its partner organizations.