more surreal.

We have completed the first leg of our journey: we made it from Mae Sot to Chiang Mai and spent a lovely evening with friends here, all after a few days of very little sleep.

This is more surreal than I would have expected. I’m surprisingly nervous and scared to go to America; while also being both sad and relieved to leave Mae Sot. It was so sad to wave goodbyes to the neighbors, but the joys and comforts promised around the corner are so welcoming.

There are certainly things I think I will miss in Mae Sot.

The kids. The beautiful, ridiculous kids that spend so much time in our porch. The little ones that stick their fingers through the hole that they made in the screen, step up on to the edge of our door frame, and poke their little eyes over the edge to shout hellos. The little girls that want to sit on our laps, and the little boys that come with bloody cuts from a recent race or fall. They will all be very, very missed.

The whole community, and the feel of being a part of a big, unique community you have limited communication with. I will miss passing the men and women in town, seeing their faces light up at the fact we shop in the same market that they do. I will miss them shouting hellos to us while they shower just off the street, and finding this absolutely acceptable.

The market. I usually miss the market simply between visits. There is something really beautiful about the chaos of the morning markets that even Target can’t compete with.

Our motorbike. I’ve come to love driving a motorbike, particularly the ability to get all the way across town in seven minutes.

There are also some things I probably won’t miss.

The street dogs. I was chased, growled at, and nipped on my ankles by four dogs during this mornings run alone. It is one thing to hold down the gas on the motorbike to peel away from a dog, it is another to muster up the energy to run faster when I’m already running in ninety degree heat. The dogs will not be missed in the slightest.

The heat. As hot season has arrived early this year, we are happily flying out. May the rains come before we return.

The midnight wake up calls for blood, vomiting, and births. There are plenty of optimistic ways to look at these–opportunities to build community, practice language, experience culture, be kind…but really, I like uninterrupted nights, and three months of them will be cherished.

There are certainly things waiting for us, as well!