Thailand 2025 Cohort
After 45 days of love, laughter, and community, we the agonizing task of bidding farewell to our beloved Huai Lan homestay families. While emotions are still raw and it will take our group many days and weeks to fully process the experience, today we had a group reflection. As part of our reflection, I shared a series of prompts to respond to, which we will post over the coming days. Here is the first batch. To everyone who has followed along from afar, thank you for supporting our group on this civic semester journey! ~ Hannah
Prompt: A message to my homestay family…
Axelle:
Dear Mae Wanna,
It is with immense sadness that I write this letter to you now that I am miles away from you. I have always known that it was going to end and that I would have to leave one day, but I didn’t anticipate this deep attachment I have grown towards you. The beauty of life is that experiences like this are bound to end, but I still yearn for one more day of shared laughter with you, being called bababobo (crazy), and watching you un-bone fish for me. I will miss your hugs because with you I felt loved, cared for, and my stomach was never empty. I hope that when you play Uno and dominoes, the thought of me will cross your mind because to me the memories we shared will always be engraved in my heart. It is hard to express all my feelings for you in words, but I hope we cross paths again.
Syd:
Dear Mae Wandee,
Though thank you will never be enough, I think it will have to do for now (until I come back!). You took me in as your own daughter since the moment you tied the cotton bracelet around my wrist. Since then, I have been lucky enough to call Huai Lan home and even luckier to call you family. There was never a time when both my hearth and stomach were not full. You always made sure I had everything I needed and more. On tough days, I was always reassured things would be better as soon as I stepped through the gate of your house. I will deeply miss our very poorly translated moments and my response to that being “toorasap mai sabai.” I am going to miss awkwardly standing around trying to see what I could help you with, so instead I would watch you carefully so I could take your recipes down. I’m going to miss all of the moms cooking at 4 in the morning. I know thank you will never be enough but khap kun maak jiao <3
From your daughter,
Blaa Muk (Squid)
Prompt: How I want to remember Huai Lan…
Yeili:
I know I will remember Huai Lan as a place full of love. A place where I learned that love can come from those who have no “similarities” or who are not related to you. As a place where I felt at peace, didn’t feel judged, and got fed—a lot. As somewhere I felt so important, yet in disguise. I felt at home.
When I think of Huai Lan, Mae Tim, Na Noor, Na Wan, P’Tor, and P’Tai will come to mind. Mae Tim’s food and silent confidence she carries herself with. Na Noor’s effortless dance moves and contagious laugh. Na Wan’s hand gestures when speaking English and kindness and patience when teaching me Thai. P’Tor’s singing and guitar skills, and his jokes. P’Tai’s smile and kindness. I will think of my family away from home. I will remember the house full of laughter during dinner or dancing. Having Axelle and Syd at my house and even when not doing anything, just feeling happy and full. I will remember the mental peace I felt there. Overall, I will remember it as a place where in a short time I felt a lot…love, patience, peace, and growth. The beautiful green rice field when biking to the cafe. A place I would love to tay forever but has taught me so much.
Lucy:
Freshly cut rice fields giving way to an expanse of craggy mountains, dusted by a cloud of morning mist. The Huai Lan Reservoir landscape changes every day. The sun sets and the sky tints purple and pink as a farewell kiss to the day. True green under hot midday sun. Deepened by droplets of rain, the sky lowers into a fog and moistens my skin. Exhausted as I bike up to the Doi Ton Reservoir, relieved when I reach the clear mountain view. 6:30pm, I’m home to eat without fail. My family awaits me, my two little siblings constantly chasing each other, restless. Newton will eat a few bites and declare “Im” — he’s full. Already?! Bao Bei will do the same, but proceed to eat any form of sugar and jelly available. Por Swing and Mae Mai will sit patiently, introducing each dish by their Northern dialect — Kam Mueang – names. Nights at Mae Tim’s, playing guitar with anyone who will listen or play along. Uno – a now Mae favorite – calling card colors and numbers in Thai. Slow days, suddenly being uprooted to go on a trip to who knows where. 6:30am, my ears open to the sound of Bao Bei, of a group of Maes and Pors boisterously conversing just inches from my bedboard. My neighbors cooking, motorbikes coming and going, a constant hum of bird chatter.
The silent care of the Maes. Letting us sleep quietly when we need it. Feeding us even if we aren’t really hungry. No fuss. Take care of yourself, but others also take care of you, and you take care of others. I hope I am able to take care of my memories of Huai Lan, nurse them, and raise them as a beautiful child of my life.