I had some unexpected roommates while at my apartment in Thailand. There was a bird’s nest on my balcony just above the door behind the AC unit. When the birds first started building it, I fought them, sweeping away each new bunch of leaves and branches, fearing the mounds of bird crap I would have to endure if I allowed the nest. Nevertheless, the birds persisted. So I gave in; I let them continue building, and they made quick work of it(they must have been the females :).

As I relaxed in my hammock, admiring their handiwork (it’s an impressive structure with multiple entrances), I began thinking about what it means to make a home. These birds accomplish this every year; they pick a place, put the pieces together, live there until it has run its course, then move on and leave it behind. It occurred to me that we are not so different.

I lived in Sisaket, Thailand for more than a year and I made it my home. I began by building the space I lived in just like the birds. My one room apartment felt more and more like my space. As I added cards to the wall decor, created a cooking space, got some plants for the balcony, and got used to the really steep staircases, I settled into my regular routine. I got to know the place, all the noises and quirks(only I had the perfect touch to flush without leaving the toilet running), and then I ventured out and also got to know the city.

Anytime you live somewhere new, near or far, you immediately start to get to know the surrounding area. Before long there are familiar places and faces all around. In Sisaket, it didn’t take long for me to find my favorite restaurants, explore the markets, and get a feel for the neighborhood. All the food venders on my street knew me, the cashiers at my local 7/11 no longer hid their giggles when I did something awkward, and the coffee shop near me knew my order.

As I got to know the place I called home, I also made friends and grew to love the people and places that had become a part of my everyday life. The place that had once been so foreign to me was now my comfort zone. When I traveled, returning to Sisaket would bring a sense of calm and relaxation as I reunited with those familiar faces and places. Creating that feeling of home happens faster than we imagine; I still missed my home in America right up to the day I left Sisaket, and yet leaving my home there was extremely difficult and heartbreaking.

The birds have the luxury of just flying away without dealing with the task of taking their home apart(I am the one that cleaned up the old dried out nest as it began to fall apart all over my balcony). However, when it came time for me to say goodbye to the home I had built, I had to do the deconstruction. I grew extremely nostalgic as I visited my favorite food stalls for the last time, said heartfelt goodbyes to my students, packed up my belongings, and tried to contain tears as my friends wished me safe travels.

Endings are never easy but as bitter as they can be, they always come with the sweetness of a new beginning. It was unbearably fitting that during my last weeks in Sisaket, while cleaning out my apartment I noticed the birds had begun to build a nest again on my balcony. I chuckled to myself and took comfort in the idea that one of the best things about calling a place home is that it stays with you and you can always go back.

My empty room once I was (almost) done packing

My whole life packed up

So empty

One last view from my balcony

I managed to get a free box from the Big C Superstore, getting it back to my apartment was another story! Haha

My shadow during sunset on my now empty wall.