Turning 25 (yee-sip-haa) in Thailand was one of the happiest things that has ever happened to me. I haven’t celebrated a birthday at home since I was 18, but in those interceding years, I’ve always been in the presence of my college and grad school friends. In this foreign land, surrounded by colleagues that are older than I am and students that are younger, having a day dedicated to me ended up serving as a really special testament to the life that I have had help in creating here.

The merriment began a week before my actual birthday, with an English Department hot pot dinner. One of the English teachers is away at a conference, so we needed to have this dinner early in order to include everybody. I have found that Thai teachers are always looking for two things: an excuse to eat, and an excuse to have fun. When they culminate in multiple birthday festivities for me, I certainly don’t mind. We had cake and took photos and laughed – all par for the course in Thailand.

On Valentine’s Day, I brought candy in for my students and taught them varieties of “roses are red,” alongside the concept of rhyming. A tradition amongst the students here is to bring in heart stickers and fix them to the teachers’ blouses, a huge, outward display of affection. As I entered my classrooms all day, students would run up to me and stick hearts across my arms and back. They also made me cards, and a few of the girls – giggling – revealed their crushes to me, “Teacher, I love him!” It gave me a little bit of harmless gossip for my office, along with the sense that my students are comfortable opening up to and being playful with me.

As I biked into school on my actual birthday, I was swarmed by students wishing me well and thrusting birthday cards my way. As I made my way to the morning assembly, my M4 class (my six 10^th graders) called me over to their sneaky huddle, revealing a giant cake. “We love you!” they sang, completely charming me. I was handed gifts all day long, with cards that had precious phrases like “I wish you happy all the time.” The teachers who didn’t make it into school that day called me over video chat, so that they could still be a part of my day.

I was surprised again, later in the day, when I walked to my M5 class. All of the students were waiting for me outside of my office instead of in their room, which was only a little bit unusual. As they took their seats, I started writing my lesson plan on the board and noted that one of the boys, Kin, was absent. “No Kin today?” I questioned. “Kin’s sick!” they all started shouting, one after another with increasing force. Of course, just at that moment, Kin opened the door with a giant birthday cake and candles, and the whole class started cheering a slightly altered version of our Happy Birthday. The kids set a phone timer so we could take group photos, and they immediately changed the picture on their M5-1 Facebook page to the birthday photo including me. It’s getting redundant of me to say; but they are such sweet kids.

The night of my birthday, there was yet another party at the house of Mom Tome, and even more cake. I felt so spoiled and so honored that I have not only been welcomed into this world with open arms, but fully embraced into the folds of it.

I spent the rest of my birthday weekend in Nakhon Phanom, the province capital, for WorldTeach meetings. It’s always good to spend time with the other volunteers. Our nights out together, sharing our stories of teaching and adjusting to life abroad, always remind me that I have a second family within Thailand, too.

The week following my birthday was a busy one. Last Friday, our school put on an IEP Open House for the Bittom 6 class (the 6^th grade equivalent here, who will join our school as M1s come May), in hopes of getting the students to join our program. This entailed making promotional videos of me teaching both my normal English class, and teaching science in English alongside Pi Ole (who is, in fact, a science teacher). It entailed me rehearsing the song A Thousand Years ad naseum with my M2s, who sang it on the big day. It entailed me teaching all of the classes how to participate in a spelling bee, and writing scripts for my M5s who served as emcees for the event. More than anything, it involved me forging even further respect for and deeper bonds with my students. They worked tirelessly at getting pronunciation down, decorating the auditorium, configuring the sound system, and putting on a fantastic show for the prospective students. Next semester will reveal if the work was worth it!

That night, we had a going away party for Fang that, naturally, consisted of hot pot and dancing. The following night, we were invited to a wedding reception at school, and I began to realize that the teachers here are not only kind women who let me into their world and spoil me – they are truly my good, good friends.

The most defining characteristics of people here are playfulness and sincerity. Teasing is intrinsic to the Thai character, something I have both had explained to me and witnessed first hand. I was telling a story about a gecko that has been in my bathroom for days, and who I am certain is quite sick. “Oh, I didn’t realize you were such a keen observer of animals, Sammy! You should be a vet, not a teacher!” Boom teased. All of my office teases me for being so positive – “SO cute!” they’ll say, holding up something not remotely cute in imitation of me. They tease Kru Wijit for always tipping out of her chair or slipping outside the office. They tease Teacher John for having a weak stomach. When we do aerobics on Wednesdays, a few of the teachers dance with such a lack of coordination that we all bend over in hysterics, including them. “Get out of my space!” they yell, as they complete an offbeat move into someone else. When Mom Teung showed up to school with curlers in her hair, and Pi Ole and I laughed in surprise, she wrapped her head in an absurd scarf formation and pranced around saying she was still beautiful. Fun, silliness, and joy are at the heart of every matter. “Don’t be serious,” I hear uttered in some new circumstance every day. Don’t worry, be happy, mai pen rai ka.

Aside from playfulness, everything here is undertaken with such sincerity. When I ran around with delight, showing a surprise birthday present to my office, one of the teachers said, “Congratulations, Sammy!” (“You say congratulations when you’re happy for someone, right?”) I am posed new questions every day such as, “What’s the difference between sometimes and maybe?” because they are curious and earnestly want to get the phrasing correct in front of me. Mom Teung once pulled me aside and asked if the correct question is, “I want coffee” or “I need coffee” because she had heard me use both enough times that she was confused!

When I arrived in Ban Phaeng late Monday night from Bangkok, Pi Ole asked me how I planned to get home from the bus stop. My plan was to undertake the 15 minute walk, but sure enough I was greeted by a minivan full of Ole, her husband, and her two daughters, ready to “send me home” as they phrase it here in Thailand. When I told Boom I was considering giving up coffee for Lent, she thoughtfully answered, “Ok, what can I do to help you?” When the back tire of my bike popped, Kru Wijit found someone to fix it that day. “In Ban Phaeng we are a family, and you always want to do everything you can to help your family,” she explained to me.

Being far from home and from my mom, brother, sister-in-law, cousins, and dear friends on holidays and during major life events has proved challenging. Lucky for me, I have found a family in my students, teachers, and co-volunteers that makes events like turning 25 not only tolerable or satisfactory, but truly enjoyable. Chayom to finding a sort of family on the other side of the globe – I think that with them by my side, 25 has a lot of love and joy in store.