The hardest part of goodbye..

The past month has been a whirlwind of emotions, memories, and goodbyes that leave me speechless in a bittersweet kind of way. It's taken me a while to find the words to fill these experiences I've had, moving from this tropical paradise of a slow, simple life back to the life I once knew. Saying goodbye to my students who have taught me so much about what it means to be flexible and what is truly important about education, saying goodbye to the volunteers who have been my family for the past year and have shared all our ups and downs, and saying goodbye to this island so far from reality yet somehow in retrospect makes sense, has been the hardest thing I've ever done in my life.

Some people ask me, "How could you just leave your life and move to the middle of the Pacific Ocean?! How scary!" but in all honesty, it was easy for me to embark on this journey. It was the excitement of something new, something different from what I've known my whole life, something life-changing that made it easy for me to get on that plane headed to Micronesia. I knew that I would face challenging and hard times, but I also knew that there were many things to be discovered, both through cultural experiences and self-reflection. Leaving the comforts of my once-known reality, I came to this island and somehow took on a new kind of reality. My normal day now consisted of long walks in the sun, the refreshment of a cold shower, the morning nourishment of a local carat banana, and the kaselel greetings of young children as I passed by. My normal day now consisted of power outages, school bells ringing at the wrong time, and hours spent just simply sitting around and relaxing in true "island style". This new kind of life sometimes didn't make sense, but we adopted it as our own and at some point throughout the year it became my new sense of reality. And to now leave this comfort, this simple life, this routine that became so ingrained into my day is the scariest part.

The hardest part of goodbye is the uncertainty of knowing what comes next. To look into the eyes of my students, my new-found friends and not know if I will ever see them again is absolutely terrifying. As I said my goodbyes to Pohnpeians and volunteers alike, it was scarier than anything I've ever done before, for I wasn't really ready to leave my new reality and return again to the old. But as all good things must come to an end, I boarded that Island Hopper plane saw Sokeh's disappear below me, the small island I once called home becoming smaller and smaller in the vast Pacific Ocean. It's crazy how fast a place can take root in your heart, the people becoming part of your memories and the smells and sights of your once-known reality fading into your past. I pray that I never forget this place, the lessons it taught me, and the people that will forever hold a place in my heart.

Although there is sadness to be felt leaving my volunteer life, there is the excitement and hope to meet again in the future. The impacts that have been made on me will be lifelong, and I surely know that if I ever return to this small island it will feel like home once again. I have new adventures in my future, teaching next year and moving to a new area of Wisconsin. I will meet new people and start a different chapter of my life, but it will certainly be very different from this one. My thankfulness to those who have supported me including family, roommate, and the friends and family I have met on Pohnpei is deep beyond words. I could not have done it without you.

And so I end one chapter and begin another. Pohnpei, you will forever be in my thoughts and memories, and I hope to once again return to your quiet tranquility and peacefulness that I have found this year. Kaselel, Kalahngan en komwe for now...