Hello, friends. I realized I said I would update my blog during my time in the U.S., but as you already know, I haven't. What I want to do know, though, is post a final blog as a way to help me deal with the reality of going home.
Recently, I have felt the inability to say goodbye to all of this. I don't know how to process the end of our epic adventure.
Starting out, Conan and I had no idea how this year would be: it started with us heading to China, only for that to fall through. Then a hasty decision was made to head to Cambodia since our house was rented for a year and our jobs filled.
Now looking back, what we experienced in Cambodia will take a lifetime to absorb. The experiences we had and the people we met and became friends with have forever changed our lives.
Cambodia is now part of our fabric. We have breathed its air, eaten its food, loved its people, spoken its language, understood (as much as one can as an outsider) its culture, and loved it for what it is: a country often forgotten because of it being wedged between Thailand and Vietnam.
And as we talk about our experiences in Cambodia here in the States, most say "I know about Cambodia because of the Vietnam War." But that's it. They don't know the food or the people or the joy. They don't know that when we would sit in traffic on our bicycles or motos, Cambodians would stare, penetrating us with with their stoic gaze. And they don't know that when we smiled at them, they would always (every single one) would return our smile with an even larger smile.
And people don't know how the kindness Cambodians showed to Sila touched us on a human level. How their love of him made us realize how much people love people, especially little ones.
And people can't imagine how much our friends Charlie, Minj, Mirka, Danika, Jason, Ellie, Hannah, Victoria, and Soriya (and so many more!) meant to us. And how much we miss them all and hope to see all of them again. And how when I hear Pupa Jim's "Amplifier," I cry because it makes me think of Charlie and his love of reggae and his never ending desire to go to the reggae bar.
All of these memories--and so many more--will stay with me forever. But I don't know how to digest them yet. I don't want to go home, but I know I have to.
This year has shown me a glimpse of what it means to live in a radically different way, to push aside the cars, phones, money, and jobs, and to live without all of that. It has shown me more than any job or degree or possession how incredibly amazing life can be.
So for that, thank you Cambodia. Thank you Cambodians. Thank you friends who I've met along the way. My love goes to you, and I look forward to a life remembering the wonderful time I've had.
