After four painstaking, stressful, but most of all enjoyable weeks at Jiguchon, it was finally for us to say goodbye. Emotions ran rampant throughout our last week, yet the sadness of our anticipated departure did not exactly drown out feelings of confusion or exhaustion. Our final lessons with the non-Korean speaking class were particularly difficult as we went into the experience with no plan whatsoever; usually, we discussed a rough outline for activities we could do, but this time, we went in blind. Logistically, this past week was the most challenging as the communication barrier was higher than ever. Luckily, I was able to speak with the two Chinese kids in my class (who, despite being menaces, quickly became two of my favorite students). This class in particular probably learned the least English out of all the other kids I taught throughout the month, but I can’t exactly be upset about it. Instead of learning, we spent most of our time building up an emotional connection, playing games and talking about what the kids enjoyed. Although it felt like I was just sitting around half the time, the kids seemed happier than ever, which was enough for me.
Nothing could’ve possibly prepared me for our final day. I thought I wouldn’t get too emotional; I knew that in a few years, our presence at the school would be forgotten and replaced with new faces. There was no reason to hold onto any attachments. Yet as I walked up to the front of the cafeteria with my peers to receive our certificates and looked out at the faces of every single student I had taught, my eyes couldn’t help but water. As the ceremony concluded and I was bombarded with requests for pictures and hugs, I truly felt the weight of our departure to come. This was it. “When are you coming back? Why do you have to leave? Will you come back and visit?” Although it didn’t feel that way during lessons, the kids really did care for us and wanted to maintain a lasting connection; this is a sentiment that I think I’ll carry for a long time.
Our goodbye to the middle school was a little less climactic, but still enlightening in some ways. Looking past our chaotic performances and stressful meat-grilling experience, I think this was some of the most fun I’ve had with the older students. I managed to bond a little more with one of my students in particular; he was always sleeping in class, but during the meal, he opened up and looked more comfortable than I’d ever seen him. Speaking to him made me realize that I want to keep in touch with him and hear about his life in the future. I think a lot of us felt this way afterwards, and we regretted not having bonded with students sooner.
I’ve made so many precious memories at Jiguchon and am still a bit in denial that we won’t be seeing the kids again this Monday. I can only hope that they will keep in touch and remember me as they grow. Now our mission lies at the Wooridle and Sarang schools, whose students are much older and most likely more intimidating. I’m filled with dread and have no idea what to expect, but I’m confident that, like before, we’ll find a way to pull through.
~ Jeanie Jia
