Small Things

In two days Scott and I will depart Bhutan. We’ll jump on a bus going to Phuentsholing and cross the border overland into India where another adventure awaits us.

Since leaving Kanlung on the 18^th and taking a three-day road trip back to Thimphu, my thoughts have been a blur. I haven’t been able to quite pinpoint anything concrete, haven’t been able to conjure up any real feelings about leaving. I know it’s happening, but I can’t quite process it. Yet.

It’ll hit me as we’re riding on the bus to the border town, Scott and I among many Bhutanese strangers, how much Bhutan became a part of me. How all the little things added up.  Already it feels strange to be in Thimphu and not be able to text or call any other BCF teachers, our link to effortless human connections and source of endless conversations. 

And small things keep popping up in my mind, things I cannot return to, things I will miss: The small neighbor kid Tin Tin saying almost every time he saw me, “Madam, everybody dance now. Everybody dance now” – a result of my teaching a group of students, including his sister, a dance to this popular 90s tune; the excitement of spotting broccoli at a shop; conversations in English with Lopen Sonam and how quickly his almost non-existent English improved in the short time I was there; the morning prayer sung by the students every day; whenever my class 6A students said, ‘Bless you,’ to me – a western custom they picked up from me and only used on me; the view (of rice paddies, of snowcapped mountains, of colorful birds, of Sherubtse college) from our apartment in Kanglung; the sounds of pujas emanating through the air as I walked through town; the kindness of the teachers I worked with; the quiet and calm of Kanglung, where the only loud noise came from barking dogs or rowdy college students; the extreme generosity of Bhutanese.