When it rains, it pours

The past four days has been a whirlwind of culture and adjustment. To my school community, I am a decoration. I am a prize. I am a farang (white person). Therefore, all eyes are on me. I literally command the attention of the hallways and the classroom, which is bizarre and exhilarating at the same time. I can't help but smile and laugh when little kids marvel at the differences between our skin color and how I say things versus how they say things. They are so fantastic and adorable; their brains are sponges and they mimic me like little tiny parrots. Most importantly, they are hungry and eager to learn English and most carry a lot of confidence with their speaking abilities--especially the higher levels of kindergarten.

Lunch is over, and the kids are hustling around in linear fashion with their tin cups and neon colored toothbrushes in hand.

I am sitting here at a tiny table with a flower painted in the center, listening to the tune of the monsoon on the aluminum roof. My students are still attempting to tear my attention away from my phone by relentlessly tapping on the classroom window directly behind me--they're pretty big on the high-fives right now!

Rain makes me more reflective than I usually am. I become a bit more internal, especially given the fact that when I'm done with three hours of teaching at 11am, I have free time until 4pm. Yes, that's right--getting paid to sit at this flower table, since it's in the wifi zone. Boredom? Nonsense! From yesterday's experience, I learned that I needed to bring a book or have something else to keep my attention for the remaining hours of the school day. How many years have I said that I wanted a job where I got paid to have fun and do nothing? 

Again, I realize little by little that I'm getting everything that I've ever desired and everything I've ever asked for. It doesn't always show up in the way that I think it will--but it does always happen. That's how it works. Amen!