Goodbye, Malaysia

It's 7:00am and I am lying in bed in our hotel in KL on our very last day in Malaysia. Yesterday we said goodbye to Terengganu, and today we will start our long journey home. So, how am I feeling? If you had asked me two and a half months ago, I would have told you that I couldn't wait to leave this place and the end just wasn't close enough. If you had asked me 2 weeks ago, I would have said that of course I was sad to be leaving, but I was too excited to come home to truly be that sad. But, starting about a week ago, and particularly yesterday and today, I have somehow put that excitement on hold, and have completely felt the reality of leaving the country that has been my home and the people who have been my family for the past seven months. I guess these things always sneak up on you.

It started about a week and a half ago, when all my students realized how near my departure had become. I would come to school and gaze upon teary-eyed faces who after seconds of looking at me, would burst into sobs and beg me not to leave them. I tried to comfort them by inspiring them to study hard so that they could come visit me in America, and this worked some of the time. But then, I realized that saying goodbye could very well mean I might never see some, or any, of these people ever again, so, instead of trying to inspire them or promise we'd see each other again, I simply started telling them how I felt and how much I'd miss them. That made us all feel better.

Then, the week before I left, my foster mom told me that the entire school, 800 students, faculty and staff, had all wanted to give me a going away present, something to show their appreciation and something for me to remember them by. I was touched, but told her it wasn't necessary because I'd always remember them and appreciate them no matter what. Even so, she "kidnapped" me that afternoon and whisked me away to a jewelry store in KT where she insisted I choose a white gold necklace as a gift from the school. On the way home I just kept thinking that this was quite a gesture; over 800 people had pooled their money together so that they could send me off with a gift as a token of their appreciation. Now, I get to wear this gift, carrying a little bit of each of them around my neck and close to my heart.

My last yoga class- the girls

Again, on Friday, the day of our fake wedding, my foster mom kidnapped Ez and I and brought us to nearby Lake Kenyir, where we met up with some of my favorite students from my Form 6 class. They told us it was our "goodbye trip" and we proceeded to boat around the lake for 3 hours, stopping to hike up a waterfall, tour an herb and flower garden, and visit a fish farm. It was a great send-off because I got to bond with my students outside the classroom a little bit, which I think we all appreciated.

My foster mom and me at Lake Kenyir

Nick (Form 6) and me on the boat ride

That weekend and Ez and I felt relieved that the fake wedding was over and that we had some time to start packing and reflect on our time here. The relief did not last long though, as we then became busier than we had ever been before, accepting invitations to people's houses and planning our last days at school. In the last five days we had at school, we ate meals at five people's houses. It was a wonderful experience, as we were invited to their homes in the kampung, which roughly translates to the "the countryside" in this context, to have traditional Malay-style meals where we all sit on the floor, eat with our hands, and MUST accept more food when it is constantly put onto our plates. Ez had a theory that accepting food is like saying "I love you too," so there's no way you can refuse. This would normally be a problem for my small stomach and relatively weak digestive system, but I hadn't been eating much that week so I was happy to return their love. Anyways, we absolutely loved going to the kampung. It is a whole other side of Malaysia that we hadn't seen until then. The families are so down-to-earth and hospitable. We felt really loved and we made sure they felt our love as well.

After our second meal of the evening in the kampung

Back at school, Ms. Sarah's Mailbox, desk, and arms started to fill up with letters, gifts and photos like never before. Sentiments ranging from "I love you like my mum" to "I am sad you will never eat rice again" were strewn everywhere and, finally, the tears I had been choking back started to flow.

Shakir's gifts to me: a drawing, a poem called "Tear Drops," and a shirt advertising his brother's band.

On Wednesday, my last day of school, I held my final program: a school-wide assembly where I gave away prizes for answering questions correctly, as well as awarded the prizes to the winners of my semester-long English Day competition. As a bonus, I let each winner choose something of mine or Ez's that we were leaving behind, after they had accepted their official prize. They loved taking my shirts and baju kurungs but, inexplicably, they passed on Ezra's socks and a box of paperclips and tissues. Then, I made my goodbye speech, thanked everyone for the amazing experience they have given me, and proceeded to hug the principal, teachers, staff, and all 400 girls in the school, while Ez shook all the boys' hands. Despite all the moments of the past 7 months I spent wishing I were home, saying goodbye was one of the most difficult things I've had to do here.

Goodbye, principal

Goodbye, girls

Goodbye, teachers

Yesterday, at the airport in KT, I was sent off by my foster mom, principal, five teachers, and a bus-load of 40 of my favorite students. We hugged, cried, and promised we'd try to meet again. I couldn't help wondering how we'd all be different if we ever did meet again. If I ever do come back to Terengganu, undoubtedly it will not be the Terengganu that I have come to know, love, and sometimes hate. For better or for worse, Terengganu will change--- is changing--- and so will all its people and traditions. For years Terengganu has been the shunned East Coast, Malaysia's "crazy uncle," if you will, who the country must accept, but doesn't really like or understand. But now, with tourism increasing and a new highway being built that will halve the travel time to KL, this is going to change. At best, the state will become more open-minded, more diverse, and more understanding of other cultures, traditions, and ways of life because of these changes. At worst, it could lose its traditions, uniqueness, and charm. All I can hope is that something I have said to my students in the past 7 months has planted the seeds to deal with these changes-- to embrace them with open hearts and open minds while still holding on to their identity and traditions. I know I have only been a small part of their lives, but if I have in any way helped them to construct a future built on cross-cultural communication and understanding, I will have done my job here.

Nick at the airport saying goodbye

And with that, I say, thank you, Malaysia. Thank you for challenging me to my core, and for helping me to better understand the world-- and myself. Thank you for your beautiful islands, lakes, jungles, and waterfalls and, most of all, for your children. May they continue to have such pure hearts and kind, understanding souls. Goodbye, Malaysia, I will miss you very much.