so it goes
April 9, 2011
Goodbyes are strange affairs. Strange to me in part because I feel so ungainly and awkward about them, either rushing through them in a stiltedly stoic fashion or blubbering through a weepy mess of sobs and sniffles. I’m just no good at them—incapable of going about it in an appropriately sad, yet graceful, manner.
Today I leave my workplace, my home . . . my life of eight months. And I am once more forced to confront this handicap.
There was a rush of busying about the library, hurrying to finish up the tidyings and projects that I had started, and that I had to complete in order to leave with peace of mind. There were classes to teach, even right as we finished that final day of term [it has, for me, always felt rather forced to try to carry on with normal lessons when dorm rooms are packed up and parent cars are waiting outside for pick-ups . . .]
There was a closing assembly: an Easter-themed service which included a farewell presentation.
And there was a going away party last night, after I had reasonably well taken care of packing business.
Today I am in the road, one last Zambian bus adventure before beginning the flights tomorrow. And I have spent a portion of the ride reading the book the students put together for me, with each class contributing a page of individual comments or signatures. Some made me sad. Many made me laugh, as a surprisingly large number of students felt obliged to mention singing or dancing in their memories of meI think my favorite came from one of the boys who remembered when I had taken over as football coach for the day, back in January. Muso wrote, “I will remember you doing football and making us run round the track.”
Enough said, I suppose ☺
This photo shows a couple of those completed library projects, as I show off my finished, “published” manual, along with the mock check-out of a catalogued book . . .