The Things I Didn't Know

September 11, 2023

Grant County, Kansas

On this day two years ago, I left the U.S. to live with people I had never met in a country I’d never seen. I boarded a plane, and there wasn’t one thing I knew about where I was going. Sure, I knew the ages of the students I was going to teach, I knew that Bangladesh was a hot South Asian country, and I knew that, in the end, everything would be OK. But, there were also plenty of Things I didn’t know.

I didn’t know one single word of Bengali. When Daniel and Amber and Nicolee welcomed us at the airport in my new country home, I was fascinated at how the “sh’s” and “ch’s” seemed to flow off their tongues with effortless ease. I didn’t even know how to say “Yes” or “No.”

I didn’t know how to eat rice with my hands. The first time I did, I was sitting cross-legged on Shanto’s red, concrete floor. Seth showed me how, and I hoped nobody was looking at all the rice that didn't make into my mouth and now lay scattered on my lap and the surrounding areas. I didn’t know how to drink from the bottle without letting it touch your lips. I didn’t know how to drop crabs into boiling water. I didn't know I was capable of eating the head of a fish or a chicken. But, when faced with new things, we can become fast learners.

I wasn’t very good at soccer. I also didn’t know how to fish with a net. Imon taught me both. He would stand at the gate and loudly call for me until I came. Then, he would grin from large ear to large ear and say, “Do you want to go fishing?” or “Please, let’s play football!” We spent hours on the sand in front of our house with the football. Sometimes, the other village kids would join us, and we would have a good competition. But sometimes, it was just Imon and me. Sometimes, we caught fish in our net; and sometimes, we only caught sticks and little crabs.

I didn’t know how to teach school. I dreaded the first day, and after it was over, I dreaded the second. But, as mentioned before, we can become fast learners. I didn’t know I would enjoy teaching as much as I did, and I didn't know one could be so proud of eager learners; of big green eyes staring up at me waiting, waiting for the next instruction. "I don't like my painting," they would say. But I thought each painting was a masterpiece. "I'll never learn it; it's too hard," they would announce. But then, they would pass their tests with flying colors.

I didn’t know I could fall so deeply in love. Little Imon’s big smile and sparkling chocolate eyes are just a beginning to which there is no end. The smell of the masala wafting down the path as Brandi and I take a walk; the raucous commotion of an evening in the city; the wrinkled, brown hand resting on my arm; the sound of thunder booming through the jungle in the middle of the night- these are memories that I will always carry wherever I go. There are countless more.

I didn’t know coming back would be harder than leaving. Two years ago on this day, if you would have pulled me aside in the airport and told me it was the truth, I wouldn’t have believed you. But people and times alike have changed. Now, when we sit in church and sing “I am Thine, O Lord”, I can hear an echo in a little tin church among the flowers and palm trees: “Ami Tomar Nath… Amay dako, dako Jishu he.” And I sit there in longing: longing for the green palms and the blue, blue sky to envelope me just like they used to.

I used to say that I wish I had never gone. If I had never gone, then I would never miss it. I wouldn't feel the emptiness and the loneliness inside when I think about the memories past. But, is it true? Of course it isn't. Because if I had never gone, I would have never learned how to catch sticks out of a creek with a fishing net. I wouldn't have learned to eat fish heads, and I wouldn't have learned to sing my favorite songs in a new way. And I wouldn't know the love that welcomed me back home with open arms. I'd go a thousand more times if I could.

I didn't know I could miss a whole country and everyone in it.

I didn't know our hearts were that big.

But now, I know.