Hey, there. Do you really want to know why I’m so sad today?
It’s a long story. No, it’s a really long story. I was kicked out of a country back when I was fourteen, and I get sad every year around when it happened. Then I go through the archives of my family’s blog to relive the events as they happened. That makes sure the whole thing is one big bittersweet mess.
Yes, I have a problem. Leaving Nepal has changed who I am. Seriously try explaining that one in a college cafeteria. I have never met someone my age who can fully relate to my history. I know people with separated families. I know people who have moved traumatically. I even know people who had it worse than me. But never have I found anyone who relates to my “spent years working to get to a country and spent three months there before being forced out and separated from my sister.”
I try telling people, but four years of experience has taught me to see exactly when the eyes glaze over. There is a point where human beings simply cannot connect to another person’s trauma. One of the most painful things people ask me is, “but wasn’t that years ago? I mean, you said you were fourteen, didn’t you?”
That implies that I should have gotten over it by now. But you’ve hit on exactly why I won’t. I was fourteen. I was right in the middle of the transition from adolescent to teenager, and as a result, leaving Nepal will always be one of the most defining events of my life. For the rest of my life, I expect the smell of burning trash will transport me momentarily back to the streets of Kathmandu. I will always have a backdrop of a street corner vendor when I look at the 24 different styles of ranch dressing on sale in my local Walmart. I will most likely always be sad at the end of November.
If that’s wrong, I’m sorry. I get it. I have a tendency to cling to the negative things in life. But please don’t ask me why I’m not over it by now. I know you mean well, and you’re genuinely curious, but it opens up a whole world of pain that I try to keep at a minimum. Asking if I haven’t adjusted to life post-Nepal in four years is discounting what I’ve been through.
Leaving Nepal is not something that controls my life. I go about my daily chores, go to classes, eat, talk, and breathe without thinking of it. But if you think I won’t bear the marks of it for the rest of my life, you couldn’t be more wrong. Leaving Nepal has made me who I am today, and I won’t forget where I’ve come from in a hurry.
So, yes, I’m sad today. I’m remembering, but I’m not mourning. I’m just paying my respects to the greatest three months of my life. I wouldn’t trade those for the world.