My biggest concern regarding being with my family for a month was that I had changed too much in Thailand and they wouldn't recognize or like me anymore--and then the whole month would be unbearable. I can't exactly explain why I felt this way, but perhaps it had a lot to do with how I handle situations in real life, and how I actually react when talking to my family and friends.
For example, I taught M3 (9th grade) and they were graduating from lower Mattayom to be in the higher Mattayom class. I was not informed by the school of their graduation ceremony until a student on facebook asked me if I was going to be there to watch her give a speech. I would like to think I handled it maturely when I entered the English department and asked them whether or not it was true, what time was the ceremony, and what should I wear? They gave me the answers I needed, and I stopped visiting the English department the rest of the week except to fill up my water bottle. I also happened to find out that day that my M6 class graduated the day before, without anyone having told me anything about it. To which I mentally gave them all the middle finger.)
However, as I relayed this story to my family who so innocently asked "How are you doing at the school? Are things getting better?", my anger got to the point where I burst out in tears and asked them whether or not I was wasting my time at a school who really doesn't see me as a teacher because they didn't have the decency to tell me that my own students were having a graduation ceremony. (My tears were angry tears, by the way, so naturally, I sounded hysterical and crazy over Skype.) And this then led to many other complaints which I have been harboring since our last conversation about two weeks ago.
Regardless, I was aware of the fact that whenever I talked about the school or about Thailand, I was bitter, angry, frustrated, and not at all pleasant to talk with. I was afraid that it had become a strengthening characteristic of mine to be bitter, angry, frustrated, and unpleasant, and that this change would, naturally, affect the way that I am around my family. I do see that as a characteristic, in all honesty, the past week I've been with them, with dark moods, anger management issues regarding a Toshiba order and an incompetent sales policy, and being almost unable to prevent myself from using words that would surely lead to mouth-washing with soap and a stern talking-to. I did come to realize, though, that while dark moods tend to swoop in unannounced and unwelcomed, my family seems to take it into stride and sometimes slap me in the face (metaphorically) with a dose of reality by reminding me that I've still got three weeks left in paradise, and if I don't enjoy it now, I'm stuck in Thailand for another five months with no hope. (Okay, so they don't put it that way, but I'm good at reading between the lines!)
It seems, though, as I was gone for a while, my family have been experiencing their own problems, each in the privacy of their own corners of the world, and that their problems are just as daunting as my own. Futures are always uncertain; hearts are always broken, taken advantage of, ripped off and pulled apart; and bitterness is covered with a face of indifference or simple disappearance. But the one thing I know that I can count on is my family. Because they know me. They know me inside and out, and they know that I need to stop thinking about work and need to sort out what I want to do in the future. They know that I'm a bitter, bitter person and that it's hard to get me out of those ruts, but they also know that I'm easily pleased with nature and that I love good vegetarian food and a good walk around the neighborhood. (They also know my Taiwan sweet tooth and my love for complex carbohydrates.) They don't know about my love life or my struggle with my Chinese-American identity. They don't know that I harbor intense hatred for only one person and that I intend to find him. And they don't know about my struggles with writing or my passion for it. But they know me. And out of all of the people I've had the fortune (and misfortune) of meeting, very few know how to handle me.
Without family, where on earth would I be?
The grass always seem greener on the other side of the fence. However, I think the grass is always greener on the side of the fence that my family's on. Even though there are a couple spots that's a bit yellow and had obviously been urinated on, it's still greener and cleaner and always feels like home.
I'm glad that your family has been there for you during your visit to Taiwan. And I'm glad that it sounds like they are supporting you.
ReplyDeleteFamily is important, but also just a really strange amalgamation of people who are tied together by some of the closest bonds their are. I was talking with a friend of mine last week about how weird our extended families are. There are some clear issues in mine, and like yours, each member has their own shit to deal with. But it's always nice to know that they have your back.
My struggle with finding a job has really shown how supportive some members of my family are. (And it throws into sharp relief how others are not... but whatever.) One of my cousins who is 2 years older than me, really went the extra mile to help me get in touch with helpful contacts and ask around at his company for jobs that would suit me. He and I aren't even necessarily that close, but because I was having a hard time, he did everything he could to help me out. (And of course being in a similar situation only 2 years prior, he understood how difficult it was.)
So anyway, this is longer than I anticipated, but I also have to make one last point. I hope you know that I consider you family. I know this post was written about your actual family. But I think as we grow up and distinguish ourselves from our family, we find another family of friends. And babe, your in it!
So if there are things that your blood family doesn't know about or stuff that you want to talk about in general, I am always here. You know, only a few clicks away.