9,000 Miles to Home

Si Satchanalai isn’t quite the tourist destination. It’d be like someone from Thailand flying all the way to the United States to visit Forest Lake, Minnesota. But it’s no exaggeration when I say that this is the most meaningful stop on my trip. If I had to choose only one place to visit it would be here. This agricultural town in central Thailand. Let me tell you why. 

I’ve been here before. Actually, I lived here before. But my last memories in this sweet little town are some of the most devastating moments of my life. 

In the fall of 2021 I received an opportunity to teach english in Thailand for one year through the Fulbright foundation. At that time I was in need of a new pace of life. I was going through a lot, but that’s a story for another time. I decided to leave home and take a chance to do something completely out of my comfort zone. The foundation didn’t tell us where we would be teaching until a few weeks before our departure to Bangkok. I remember seeing my name on a list “Hannah Long: Si Satchanalai” and spending the next few hours exploring on google earth. 

I flew from Bangkok to Si Satchanalai full of excitement and with three weeks of Thai language classes in my pocket. I was the only foreigner in at least a hundred mile radius. I was given a two story home to myself that overlooks the Yom River and a bicycle. My host teacher, P’ Ji, who I now refer to as my Thai dad, showed me around the town and introduced me to the elementary students I will spend the next year teaching. The four months to follow will go down as the most peaceful time of my life. I taught English to the sweetest Thai kids. I was “teacha” to everyone; my students, their parents, the ladies at the noodle shop and the workers at 7/11. I rode my bicycle to the market to practice my Thai while ordering fruits and veggies. I went on runs after school and painted on the weekends. I read books and and played my ukulele. Faces became familiar. I was a member of the community.

I became best friends with the two English speaking people my age in town, P’ Mok and T’ Apple. I had routine, friends, coworkers that felt like family, and a place to call home when my life in Minnesota wasn’t so good. I knew my time here wasn’t permanent, just a year, but this experience felt like a deep breath. 

These few months of peace ended with a phone call I will never forget. There’s no way to lightly tell someone their mom is dying. Especially when they’re 9,000 miles away. I was floored. Terrified. I needed to come back home as soon as possible to be with her. Both of my parents struggle with addiction. This was a slap in the face to how bad it actually was. I booked the next flight out of Bangkok. I withdrew from Fulbright and lost my scholarship. I packed up the house that became my home and said goodbye to the people that became my family. I didn’t get the chance to say goodbye to my students. I remember begging God for this to just be a nightmare I can wake up from. 

Fast forward to this present moment. My mom is alive and well. I lived on her couch, helped as much as I could, and she extended her life expectancy on dialysis. By nothing short of a miracle she received a life changing liver and kidney transplant about a year after I left Thailand. What I couldn’t predict is that in the midst of my mom’s disease I’d end up losing my dad to the same ugliness that almost took my mom. My mom’s transplant and the death of my father is why I’m here now. It’s why I’m willing to travel the world in the first place. At the lowest point of my life I looked death in the eyes as it lurked around the two people I love most. Our time here is temporary. For all of us. What we put in is what we get. I refuse to live it half heartedly, and I will not let these hardships limit this beautiful chance we get called life. I had to come back to Si Satchanalai. It was a must. 

When I left P’ Ji on that heartbreaking day I promised him I’d be back as soon as possible (I keep my word). I took a 6 hour train from Chiang Mai to Uttaradit where P’ Ji picked me up and brought me to Si Satchanalai. I was so happy to see him. P’ Ji is a story teller and we spent hours catching up. He’s one of my favorite people on earth. He takes care of me like he would a daughter. He always wants the best for me and does whatever he can in his power to make it happen. He works so hard and wears a million hats, although he won’t admit it. 

It's Thai custom to return with gifts

I was also reunited with P’ Mok and T’ Apple along with Mok’s parents. They had me over for a special welcome back dinner. In some ways it felt like I never left. I got to meet the new Fulbright teachers (there are two now), and they’re loving this small town as much as I did. Unplanned, I arrived at the same time the Fulbright teachers leave for a one month internship in southern Thailand. Because of this, I was able to stay in the same house on the river I lived in before. 

It’s been 9 months since I was last teaching in the classroom. I was actually craving it. I picked up classes at our school, teaching english and art. The kids remembered me and I got to tell them how tall they’ve gotten since I’ve seen them last. I remember wondering if I’d ever see them again, and now here we are, picking up right where we left off.  

*** Si Satchanalai Primary School is Hiring English teachers!! You don't need a teaching degree. If you're interested here is more info and P' Ji's contact. You can also reach out to me with questions.

I spent 10 lovely days in Si Satchanalai. Reunited with familiar faces and places. I went back to my favorite noodle shop (they even remembered my order) and had dinner with Mok’s parents most nights. I went for runs around the school like I used to and played soccer in the school yard with the same students from two years ago. 

March 1st marked six months since I left MN to backpack the world. Being back in Si Satchanalalai felt like coming home. I didn’t need to pull out google maps to go anywhere. I didn’t have to put up that shield of intense awareness I need while solo traveling in unfamiliar places. I was interacting with people I knew and loved. So comforting. I was able to actually digest the past six months of adventures, reflect a bit and basically explode with gratitude. 

There was also this interesting thing going on where I could feel how much I’ve changed since I had been here last. The Hannah that was here before and the version of her I am now are actually pretty different. 

From my journal: 

“I want to tell her she’s going to be okay. It’ll get a lot worse before it gets better. You’re going to feel like you’re sinking but somehow you’ll swim. The piece of your heart you left here will be found again. Hold on.” 

So that’s it, I did it. I lugged my broken heart 9,000 miles back to Si Satchanalai by plane, bus, train, tuktuk, motorcycle and foot with some incredible stops along the way. I’m on the other side. It felt like I picked up the missing pieces of my story. Everyone needs a home. I have two. Saint Paul Park and this special little town in fly-over central Thailand. I got to say a real goodbye to the community this time, the closure I needed. But this goodbye felt even more like a see-you-later than the last time. I feel so loved. Until next time, Si Satch.