One year of...

One year of eating, eating bowls of rice, rice, and more rice

mangoes, elephant apples, and the rich man's fruit, 

fried bananas and shrimp chips. Eat more, eat more.

One year of watching, watching body language and actions 

so much more striking when there are no words to hear. 

An arm grab, a cheek pinch, hands pressed together in greeting.

One year of meeting, meeting up so many people it's hard to keep them straight. 

Some become friends, some become family, and some

 you never see again.

One year of thinking, thinking before speaking in a new way, 

not quite knowing how to say it, express it.

The word sometimes flowing, but most times not.

One year of acquiring, acquiring new habits and manners.

Eat with a spoon in your right hand, wear long sleeves to protect your skin. 

Sit the Wat sit and try not to fidget too much.

One year of growing, growing into a slightly different person 

so slowly and carefully it's hard to see. 

Simultaneously more confident and less about my place in the world.

One year of teaching, teaching about a language and culture I can't fully explain. 

Teacher, why is it like that? Why do you do that? 

I don't know. It just is, I just do.

One year of learning, learning about Cambodia, its people, religion and culture. 

But why is it like that? I ask, out loud and in my head. 

I don't know. It just is, we just do.

One year of answering, answering questions both mundane and profound. 

Have you eaten rice already? Where are you from? 

Tell me, where are you going? Do you miss home?

One year of questioning, questioning others, but mostly myself. 

What is that? How do I do this? 

But really, why am I here? Where am I going?

One year of trying, trying harder than I ever have before. 

New food, new customs, new ways of thinking and living. 

Trying to eat, speak, survive, live and...

thrive.