When Feelings Invade.

Since my last post, two important dates have come and gone: 1) the one-month left mark and 2) two full years in Cambodia. Both passed with numerous facebook status updates and posts from my fellow K6 cohorts (or at least those who are still around), but overall pretty tomahdah (trans: normal or ordinary). It wasn't until the most crucial part of my in-country support system for the past 2 years left this past weekend that these time marks became very real and I began to really think about what THIS (whatever "this" is... my experience, my service, my relationships with my community and host family, the uncertainty of the future and when I will return, etc.) means/has meant. In otherwise letting myself really process it all while still here so that I can transition smoothly (ha!) or at least conclude my service purposefully; saying the jom reap leiahs and the jewup k'neya payl graowees (trans: goodbyes and see you laters) I need to say. Like when I dropped Sam off at the Siem Reap International Airport on Saturday, I may be unable to say the words to express gratitude and love in those final moments thanks for an emotional temperament and a shaky voicebox, but maybe small gifts and notes will be able to speak for me.

I have tried to keep busy this past month with activities like singing with the Peace Chorus (fellow PCVs) at the US Embassy's 4th of July Celebration; a weekend in Kampong Cham (one of the last provinces I had to visit - still haven't been to Preah Vihear due to PC policy...); host sister Ong's 24th birthday; painting a South East Asia map mural with students and Em to complement the world map at the high school; meeting PCVs from Nepal; applying for jobs; and making rounds around the villages. Especially big news of the past week was 1) on 7/11 my friend Chamreun gave birth to a beautiful baby girl who she named Nidta and 2) Em's youngest host sister, Srey Nyeat (8 yo) fell in the bathroom and was hospitalized for severe hemorrhaging (currently her condition is stabilizing, but still scary). Despite all those activities, I feel as though I am slowly ripping off a ginormous Band-Aid that is covering my entire epidermis and internal organs too. The worst possible waxing experience. As my Khmer friends would say knyom chhu jet (trans: I hurt heart = my heart hurts = heartbreak).

I am not looking forward to these goodbyes and to leaving my community behind (a terrible phrase that only depicts the physical leaving). But there is a lot to look forward to as this significant life transition fast-approaches. As I look forward, I will continue to keep an eye on the rear-view mirror; a reminder that the past may become more distant, but will always be there.