the last melon.

goodbye, po box 98.

Well, guys, I’m home. I figured I’d sit down and give some final reflections for anyone who cares enough to read about what it’s like to come back to the states after a school year on Yap.

Being home is amazing. Most of you know my family, or at least know lots about them, so it shouldn’t come as much of a surprise that I love being back with all of them. The future is uncertain, but this summer is probably the last time that all four of the kids in my family will live at home together, and I’m very much enjoying every minute of it. It’s fun to be reclaim my position as butt of the jokes. No time was wasted - I am being constantly roasted.

greg was at work :/

Leaving Yap was difficult. Many of my students came to the airport (after midnight!!) to say final goodbyes. It was so thoughtful and inconvenient and it meant so much to me. 

~most~ of the airport crew

Before we left, we had a wonderful final day. I got up for the sunrise and then drove the entire island by myself. It was the most perfect thing I could’ve done. We ate lunch at The Marina, which is where we had lunch on our very first day. Somehow, we literally only ate there twice all year - the first and last day. Full circle. The evening ended with a sunset on the water and a coconut at Mnuw (translation: sea hawk (a favorite restaurant)). 

final sunrise.

How have I not talked about this before? Mnuw is the best. It’s a boat and the staff is incredible. Erin and Kayla and Joce and everyone else - if you ever read this, I love you. You are a huge part of why people love Yap.

one last beer battered fish sandwich + coconut on the mnuw.

All of the walls and ceilings inside of Mnuw are covered in t-shirts, flags, dollar bills, and pictures with notes written on them. They are left by people that come to Yap from all over the world. Most of the tourists on Yap are divers or marine biologists, and they really do come from everywhere. Of course we had to leave our own mark.

d-line is my yapese, beer drinking identity.

Flying home was obviously terrible. 23 hours of travel. 4 flights with EXTREMELY short layovers. Lots of running, sweating, falling, shin splints, abandoning my bags (accidentally…three times), shaking, sleeping, etc. I also got yelled at by a United agent after they almost gave up my seat while I was waiting to board the plane.

So, in case anyone was wondering, they have not learned much from their recent mistakes.

Anyway, I sit at home super contentedly. I am seriously overjoyed when I think about all that I accomplished in Yap. I am happy with the relationships I built with my students. I am proud of the work I did at school. I am satisfied with all that I contributed as well as with all that I learned. I am happy I went just as I am happy to have returned home. All is well.

one last goodbye to my classroom.

Just some final reflective thoughts, if you’re interested: 

This wasn’t a break from reality, as some people have said. Sometimes people say, “oh, you’re back to you’re real life!” But it’s important to understand that this experience was, is, and always will be a very real part of my life. I lived in a community, had a job, made friends, learned new things, lived. It wasn’t - as I said in the very beginning - a gap year between school and career. It was a necessary step for my life and will always be a part of my history.

I learned, for sure and certain, that I do not want the career I once chose for myself. As difficult as it was to admit that, I am so happy I learned this. It seriously sucks to come to the realization that I just spent four years and lots of money pursuing a degree I will more than likely never use (oops?). But at least I’m happy right!!!? Perhaps I will find a way to teach outside of the traditional setting sometime in my life. I just wasn’t quite meant to be a classroom teacher. But teaching takes countless forms. I’m sure my time teaching is far from over. You just won’t find me saying, “Welcome to Ms. Ackels’s second grade class!” this August. HAHA I don’t know why it’s so funny to me now to imagine myself teaching second grade — that was pretty much all I ever wanted for myself. I can’t even picture it now it just seems so ridiculous.

happy, happy.

I learned that I am talented. I know that sounds LAAAAME but this was huge for me. I always felt like I wasn’t good at anything because I couldn’t articulate my talents. I couldn’t say, “I’m a great painter,” or “I’m a good athlete,” or “I can speak six languages,” or “I can play a few instruments”. Those are talents, skills, that everyone recognizes. My abilities are just less tangible, more difficult to label. I’m good at teaching. I’m creative when it comes to lesson planning. I’m great at listening to and loving other people. I’d like to say I’m good at understanding, but that’s something I’ll always have to work at. Learning these things about myself has empowered me in a way that I did not expect during this year. I want to go back to school, I want to learn so many more things, I want to do so much with my talents. I want to use them all, always.

school sunset.

I learned how easy it is to make myself happy, but also how much easier it is to make myself miserable. Many times this year I felt like life was just a beat down, but often because I was making it so. Our hearts can break a hundred times a day. We can weigh ourselves down with negative thoughts, self-pity, reminders that we’re not good enough or not doing enough. We can compare ourselves to others, be concerned that people don’t like us, and wonder where things went wrong. We can force ourselves to remember how lonely we are, how far away we are, how long it’s been since things were going exactly the way we wanted them to go. But when we do all of these things, life is, in simplest terms, terrible. It is easy to think these things, to exist this way, to be miserable. At times it is necessary, but only briefly. It is, oddly enough, easy to do the opposite of all of these things. To say, “yes, I am lonely here. Yes, I am finding difficulty. Sure, I don’t know what I’m doing, but whatever”. To take a walk under the unbelievable moon at night. To take time to mentor a struggling student and remember why you’re doing what you’re doing in the first place. To smile just because you haven’t all day. To look back and realize you did make a difference, however small. Happiness is a choice. It is. It is. It is. Joy is a consequence of that choice. Joy is what makes our lives full, complete, worth living. But in order to receive joy we must first choose to be happy. Choose to find the good, to force the smile, to pass by the miserable, the terrible, the upsetting, the lonesome. “We can choose to be anything we want to be, and that includes happy.” If I’ve confirmed anything this year, it’s that.

In one of my posts in September, I wrote “I know that I am choosing happiness here. I made a decision to come here - I answered a very real calling. I don’t always love being away, but I love where I’m headed. I love where this is going. I am already so in love with the person I know that I will be when I am on the other side of this.” 

As I write this, I know that I am more in love with who I am and where I’m headed than I ever have been. 

I was never looking to “find myself” or even to grow this year. I cannot say that this was one of the most life-changing experiences of my life, but I didn’t need it to be or expect it to be. To make these claims would lack truth, so I will not make them. But I can say, truthfully, that this was an empowering experience. And more than anything, a wonderful reminder of how big our world is, how full of love it is, and how much I LOVE PEOPLE. I do. I love them. I love that I now know people on the literal other side of the world. I love that I know a place that previously did not exist in my mind. I love that I know a culture so beautiful and pure and wildly different from anything else I’ve ever known. 

goodbye to my loving neighbors, Mary, Dafrad, and Summer.

It’s hard to say goodbye to a place you know you may never see again. It’s even harder to say goodbye to people you know for sure you’ll never see again. I may cross paths with a few students down the line if they come to the states for college, but there are many I will never see again. It’s weird to make myself okay with that, to accept the reality of this very specific situation, but I have made peace with it. I am ready to move forward— ready to be home, knowing that I did exactly what I came here to do and that I did it well. I had a job and I fulfilled it. I had goals and I met them all. My accomplishments here are many, and I am proud of myself. 

I’m bringing a lot home with me, but also leaving a lot in Yap.

goodbye house.

I leave behind the heat, the all-hours roosters, the power outages. I leave my classrooms, my students, my coworkers. I leave clear night skies, sunrises over the ocean, bike rides around the lagoon. I leave a weaker sense of self, the heartaches that come from missing loved ones, the oppressive barrier that was the time difference between us. I leave constant access to the freshest sashimi, taro, and inexpensive coconut oil. I leave my P.O. box, the friendly faces at the grocery store, and all of my favorite spots around the island.

But I bring home my newfound indifference to bugs and vermin. I bring my love of coconuts, a rejuvenated appreciation for wildflowers and the moon, and a suitcase full of local clothing. I bring greater knowledge of my abilities, a better understanding of my passions, and a clear view of my future. I bring photographs and memories and people I’ll hold forever in my heart. I arrived in Yap a college grad and I return home on top of the world.

goodbye dolphins.

Which, by the way, if you don’t know what it is like to feel this way, you’re doing something wrong. Everyone can feel this powerful, this energized, this in love with life. Figure out what you need to do or to experience to get there, but I promise it’s there for all of us. It’s a great way to live, feeling this way. We can’t be like this every day, otherwise life would have no meaning. But there are seasons when we can and should feel this awesome, this in love, this high. Figure it out. Make it happen. I have never felt more ready to take on the world, to face my future, to make my life happen exactly the way I want it to. It is all so open, so unclear, so vast. And instead of being scared, I’m psyched out of my mind.

But…

…what does my future hold, you ask? 

Instead of asking, how about this — don’t. 

I don’t have any answers, haha. Will I be in graduate school? Still kind of up in the air. Will I be working in Dallas and living at home? Likely. Will I move to a new city and struggle to make ends meet? Ideally. Check in with me in a couple of months.

Until then, I’ll just keep living. Re-adjusting in small ways to life in the Big D. Re-learning how to drive while sitting on the left side of the car, how to function in an air-conditioned room without catching pneumonia, how to go to bed past 9 PM. 

It feels so weird to come to a close with this post. I have so loved keeping this blog throughout the year. So before I go, one more point. Just to bring it all full circle. 

On the very first day of the school year, I had the freshmen in Micronesian History answer the following question:

In your own words, what does it mean to be Micronesian?

traditional canoe building.

One of the boys in my class responded with this:

I would want the world to know that being a Micronesian is the most wonderful thing you could ever imagine. Us Micronesians, to get everything we want, we do it with our own hands.

Gosh, I love that. I really, really do. 

Because it is true! Many of the people I encountered this year can do so many things. They go spearfishing in the middle of the night to feed their families. They suffer through the heat and the mosquitos to maintain gardens and taro patches. They work hard in school because they understand the opportunities that education can provide. 

I know there are people like this all over the world - in other countries, in my own home, everywhere. But something I really admire about Micronesians is that they really just use everything I have and they have such an appreciation for it. They love the land they live on. They are named after it and in honor of it. They use every single gift the earth provides for them. They’re grateful for it and they protect it. It’s the best, I love it. 

goodbye nuunuws.

So now, it’s time to say my last goodbye. 

Goodbye to this blog and to all of my followers. Thank you for your words of encouragement, your compliments on my writing, your support, your love, your friendship, your prayers, and your time. I love you a hundred times over and I am so grateful to have such a vast audience. Thank you to everyone who read from all over the US, France, Afghanistan, Ireland, UK, Australia, Germany, Italy, Japan, Canada, and Poland.

Ugh. I HATE that I have to give up this blog. I mean, my Yap year is over, so there’s no sense in writing anything else. And my life simply isn’t interesting enough to start another blog, you know? But I will so miss writing. I have loved it so much.

So if anyone has any information on outlets for which I can continue writing, please let me know. I have recently been picked up as a part-time writer for a couple of travel blogs, but those will be short lived positions and I will constantly be looking to branch out. 

thank you + goodbye (for now).

kammagar + kafel.

final sunset.