A letter to my sister, on the eve of our goodbye

To my beautiful, brave, and incredible older sister:

So. It's happened. You've bought your first ever one-way ticket. You've sent in all the possible applications you could possibly ever send in. You've cried. You've laughed. You've dreaded this day for way too long.

There are so many things to say, and yet, now that it has come down to this one moment, I've found that I am almost at a loss for words. What do you say to a person that you've spoken to every day of your life, and yet you still have so much to say to? What do you say to the person that knows you about as well as any person possibly could? What do you say in the face of goodbye?

Early this morning, I was sitting at breakfast with mom and Maria, just going through the usual morning routine. You were upstairs, still fast asleep. I was chewing on my customary soggy Raisin Bran. Mom was thoughtfully sipping her coffee. Maria was grimacing at the label of her vitamin tablet packaging. We were talking about everything and nothing, and then suddenly we were talking about you. We were talking about the goodbyes you would have to say, and all the things you need to be thinking about right now.

It was mostly mom talking, rambling and sniffling just like she usually does when she talks about you and your future. And then, I said one simple thing that got me started as well.

"I wish I could take it away from her. Not the relationships she had, but the pain of when it all had to end."

And I started to cry. Because you know what? It really does make me sad. I was thinking about all the really difficult things you've had to go through these past few months. Goodbyes. Goodbyes. And even more goodbyes. It made me so sad to think that the only people who are really, truly constant in your life are dad, mom, Maria, and me. And in only a few weeks, you'll have to say goodbye to us, too.

I can't imagine how you must feel right now. I'm so scared for you, even though I know I don't need to be. I'm so afraid of that feeling you'll feel as you're on that one-way plane out of here, leaving behind the only life you've ever known and embarking on a journey to a life you still have no idea about. But most of all, I'm just really sad for you. I cry for you. There are times in my day when I think about you leaving, and I just need to cry for a bit -- not necessarily because I'm going to miss you, even though I definitely will. Mostly because I know that you're in one of those seasons that is full of tears and heartbreak.

But I'm also so excited for you. I'm excited for you, because I know that in the midst of all the sadness and goodbyes, there will be times when you will laugh uncontrollably until your stomach aches and you can't breathe. There will be moments when you stop what you're doing just because you want to soak up the joy of a moment of complete contentment. There will be times when you will sing, loudly and high-pitched, because you feel free and happy and comfortable with where you are and who you're with. There will be times when everything you've gone through before was worth it, because it brought you to one place of pure happiness. I'm excited for those things. Even after all the tears and goodbyes, there will still be moments where you will be happy. And I'm hopeful for those moments.

I feel all these things because I love you. Who ever said loving somebody was easy? It's painful. It consists of a lot of crying, a lot of sniffling, but also a whole lot of laughing.

I really am going to miss you. I'm going to miss your tall-person hugs that make me feel sort of small. I'm going to miss the way you join in a song I'm singing, about two octaves higher, all high-pitched and squealing. I'm going to miss having somebody in my room when I get home from school. I'm going to miss your random wife-training whims that make you clean the entire house in an afternoon. I'm going to miss the way you make the small good things in a day full of big bad things seem really important. I'm going to miss all of you, every last inch.

I'm probably going to look up at my wall of photos every once in a while and sigh sadly, and maybe cry for a bit. And you'll probably have similar moments in Switzerland or in college, when you just want to Skype your family at home even though it's 3am on our side of the world.

I love you so much. And even though it hurts sometimes, I'll never regret being your sister. I'll always be your sister. May we never do that awkward three-kiss thing. May we never shake hands. May we forever greet each other like we saw each other only yesterday, with huge smiles and nice tall-people hugs. I look forward to it.

Much love,

Your little sister, Sarah.

My Thanksgiving Thoughts

In my English class today, we were told to, in the mindset of thanksgiving, reflect on the goodness of God. I thought that, since I haven't written anything in a while due to my lack of time in the midst of studying, studying and more studying, it may be interesting to post my reflections.

Here goes.

What first comes to mind when I think about the goodness of God is the fact that we don't actually deserve any of it. Wait -- that may sound a little harsh. But let me explain.

One of the things that I find most unfathomable and amazing about God and His character is the fact that He, the Holy One, the creator and owner of everything in the universe, so full of love and purity, still created man, a being with free will, that chose to be evil rather than good.

And yet, God still loved us.

He still loved us to the point that He, even after having created us in His image, chose to send His only Son to become one of us and die the most horrible death, just to unite us once again with God.

I will never understand exactly why He did it.

But I know this much: It was because of His love -- the kind of love that we will never be able to show or feel to the extent that He does. He loves completely and perfectly, and it's so mind-blowing to me to think that He does! We are so undeserving. We deserve to be dead. We only exist because of the love and goodness and mercy of God. ...and not only do we live, but we also have the incredible opportunity to be in relationship with the God of the universe. It is only because of God's goodness that we, lowly and sinning humans, imperfect and full of laws, are allowed to speak to and be in relationship with the perfect, almighty God. What an honor!

There is nothing I can do to even begin to deserve it. It is God's goodness alone that allows me to live and serve Him.

I think that is the fact that makes me realize that having sin in the world or having to go through hard times doesn't mean that God is not good. Just because we feel pain sometimes doesn't mean that God hates us, or is trying to punish us, or has decided not to be good for a day or two. When we finally realize how undeserving we are to even live at all, any trial or pain will seem so trivial. No matter what we go through, God's goodness is still bigger than anything. And we are alive, after all, so that is a blessing in and of itself.

God is bigger and stronger than anything we will ever go through, and He has ultimate control -- so why worry? Why be anxious? The God of the universe, who has already proven His love to us in so many ways, is in control. The same God who loves everyone equally and unconditionally and unfathomably is in control -- so I'm sure we're going to be okay.

I know it's hard.

And I'm not saying that people should ignore hard times and pretend life is a piece of cake. What I'm saying is that because of the goodness of God, we're going to be just fine.

You're going to be just fine. This is my comfort, for you, today. Even if today is a good day, full of family and smiles and laughing and turkey and mashed potatoes. Hard times will come again, and you'll find yourself curled up on your bed with tears streaming down your face again. You'll have another day during which you feel like nothing is going your way and the entire world is against you. But I'm just saying... It really is going to be okay. God is good. He really is. He is bigger than what you're going through. He is bigger than difficult times. He loves you, and He's got it under control. So you are going to be just fine.

About Nostalgia and the Road Not Taken

For some reason, there have been so many opportunities lately for me to be nostalgic. Yesterday, I had a sudden urge to decorate my new bedroom with a wall of photos, and so I began looking through old pictures. Well, they were actually pretty recent, but for some reason, it made me really, really sad, looking at all the moments I used to have. And I realized that I really didn't know, at the time, how blessed I was. I didn't know, then, that eventually the moment would end and reality would return to me. The pictures reminded me of how much I missed being young and free, and not having to worry about what people thought of me or what I was going to do when I grew up.

I'm growing up too fast.

And it made me sad to realize that I didn't know it until now. I wish I could go back to those moments and relive them; look my old self in the eye and say, "Love your life, Sarah. You are so privileged to be young."

I realize that I'm not "old". And yet, there's a part of me that feels that way, because I'm slowly becoming an adult. I'm slowly become "not a kid". And I miss that innocence, the laughter and effortless way of life. I miss not having to worry about how each choice I make is going to affect the rest of my life. I've lived every day without properly realizing how precious they were. And now that I do realize it, it makes me sad to think that I can't go back and relive the moments again.

A read a book a few days ago that asked me one important question: "What will you do with your wild and precious life?" It was a good book, about a girl that took the road less traveled after spending her entire high school career doing exactly the opposite.

It made me think: What am I going to do with my wild and precious life?

But now that I've written that down, I realize something. I'm  not going to do anything with my wild an precious life. Because it isn't mine to live.

I've always known that God was in control of my life. And yet, looking into the unknown future--and the beautiful past--I still feel really sad. I don't exactly know why. Maybe it's a happy sort of sadness, twinged with excitement but also fear. But I mean, if God's given me a past to be happy and nostalgic about, I think I can trust Him to give me a future that will glorify Him.

I only have two years left of my wild and precious life here in Cambodia. And then, it will continue, somewhere else in the world.

I've taken the road less traveled my entire life. I'm not exactly normal. 

And although that's not always an easy reality, it's something that is a huge blessing. I don't know what the other road looks like, but I like to think that I'm exactly where God wants me to be.

As for the nostalgia? It's not gone away just yet. After looking through those pictures yesterday, I closed my laptop and stared into space for a little while. I also started crying, and then realized that there was something really important that I had to do. I got up, walked downstairs to my parents' bedroom, and, with weepy eyes, told them I loved them more than anything else in the world.

Other people would have thought I was crazy. But, being the loving, incredible people that they are, they knew that it was just me, going through another one of my phases. We had one of those family moments, where we all confess our love to one another and do a whole lot of hugging.

And then I headed back upstairs to do some homework. Because, after all, continuing my wild and precious life has to start with something. And it might as well be that.

Why I Write

I realize that I probably don't have anybody reading this blog. 

But yesterday, in English class, as we were talking about the life of Wilfred Owen, the famous World War I poet, our English teacher told us something.

"Before Owen met a writer at a hospital in France, he didn't write about the war. He thought that poems were supposed to be happy, beautiful things, not sad, depressing pieces of writing. But when he met this other writer, he was encouraged to write about his trials and hardships. Not because he thought he would be famous; because he realized after a while that it was helping him to put things into perspective."

And I realized that that's pretty much my philosophy on this blog. I don't write often, but that also means that when I do, it's something that I think the world should know--or, at least something that my future self should look back on and remember. I realized that this blog is so much more than for my being able to let out my feelings about life as a TCK--it's about being able to put things into perspective, so that there's something there for me to read back on later.

I'm always going to be different. 

I realized that a few months ago, as I was in Switzerland, struggling with my identity and culture shock. It was a challenging thing to accept, but I realized that it's inevitable. And, since it is, it should also become something that I embrace as a person. My differences aren't always going to be a bad thing, even if it feels like they will  be. Someday, the things that I've experienced are going to be blessing to somebody else. I'll be able to look another TCK in the eye and say, "I know exactly how you feel", and be able to talk about it, and be different with somebody else.

And until then, I find comfort in being able to write all my experiences down "on paper". Not all TCKs do this, but I feel like I should. Someday, I'll have a different blog, one that tells my friends and family that are scattered across the world how I'm doing in the places I'm going and the new things I'm experiencing. But for now, this blog is just for me. It's something that I'm writing to others out there who are experiencing the same things. And I'm writing it to my future self, as an encouragement, that these experiences, even though they're hard, are blessings in disguise. I know that I'm going to look back at this blog and smile, and see how God has carried me through everything.

Because, like with Wilfred Owen, writing isn't just for the easy stuff. And it isn't just for the relatable stuff. Sometimes it's just something that's just for you, to enjoy. And that's why I write.

About a Divine Opinion - and Why it Should Matter

The whole world knows that women struggle with insecurities. Which is probably why our society is so jam-packed with books, movies and magazines that address the struggle with learning to "love yourself" and "accept yourself". We hear the phrase "you're perfect just the way you are" a lot.

Then why do we have a problem really believing it?

We can say "I don't have a problem with who I am" and "I don't care what other people think". But no matter what, there's always a part of us that is constantly comparing ourselves to other people. We all have at least one thing we don't like about the way we look. It's normal, no matter how self-confident we may pretend to be. It's just that simple: It's very difficult to really believe we're beautiful.

The Importance of Another Opinion

Sometimes it helps when other people tell us we're pretty. We all love the feeling of being paid a compliment. The words "I love your hair" or "You have really pretty eyes" always make us feel better. It's the balsam to our insecurities. For that moment, we are more aware of the things that other people like about us. We feel proud to have characteristics that stand out to other people. For one moment, another person has acknowledged something about us that is praiseworthy and beautiful and unique. And it makes us feel good.

Then why is there always that doubt? Why does life always seem to steer us right back to where we started, looking in the mirror and shrugging. This is as good as it's going to get. There's no hope left for me. I'm not as pretty as her. I can try all I want, but I'm never going to be beautiful.

Why do we keep thinking those things, despite the "feel good" moments? Maybe it's the doubt the comes, subconsciously and quietly. Do they really think my hair is pretty? Or are they just saying that to make me like them? Or to make me feel better? Is their opinion really credible? Does their complimenting me really mean that I'm beautiful? 

People's opinions matter. But we still seem to doubt their authenticity - and whether they're really liable reasons to believe ourselves to be really, truly beautiful.

The Rejected, "Divine" Opinion

There's a divine opinion out there that many people don't choose to believe. You know what I mean. It's God's opinion of us. And before you choose to close the browser and read something else, let me continue. 

God's perspective may seem cliched in the world today, rejected because God himself is rejected. But think about it - God looks at every single person in the world, sees the good and bad, inside and out, and looks at you, and tells you you're beautiful. It's a pretty reliable opinion when you think about it. And yet, even Christians often don't find it a good enough reason to believe they're beautiful.

Other women don't believe the divine opinion because they don't believe in the divine. But if we Christians do believe in the divine, then what's stopping us from really believing His opinion? Honestly, nothing but Satan. He's the only one whispering "you're ugly" in our ears. And we're listening to him! We're listening to the one person the Bible clearly states is a liar, when we should be listening to the most credible and honest opinion in the Universe.

God's opinion is much more reliable than ours. And the media's. And Satan's. He sees the entire world, all of creation. He sees the inside and the outside of every person - the good and the bad. He doesn't compare us, loves us, and calls us beautiful.

If we Christian women aren't going to believe that, from the perspective of the One who sees everything and knows everything, what hope is there left for the women of today? If we begin really choosing to believe that our beauty is authentic, chains will be broken. Lives will be transformed. And those who don't believe in our God will see what a difference it makes in our lives to really, truly believe oneself to be beautiful. For real.

"Coming Home" and Culture Shock

Sitting smack-dab in the middle of Switzerland, on the back porch of my grandparent's farm, soaking up the fresh smells of grass after the rain, mixed with faint scents of cow manure and wood, I feel good. Usually I wouldn't feel particularly motivated to write about this particular subject. But right now, feeling the way that I do, I think I'm ready.

"Coming home." That's a strange phrase for me. 

Believe it or not, I seem to use it no matter where I go in the world - "back" to Switzerland, or "back" to Cambodia. No matter what place I "go back" to, to think that I'm "going home" seems to be the only option for me. What else would I say?

Ever since I was a little girl, Switzerland has held a special place in my heart. Even though I've never lived there, ever, in my entire life, I think there is an element about it that makes me feel, in my strange TCK way, at home.

Maybe it's the whole thought that I'll see my extended family again. Maybe it's the fact that, here, nobody stares at you because you have white skin. Maybe it's because everyone here speaks my language. Or maybe it's just the fact that, for once, I'm out of the place where nothing seems to be perfect. And I'm in this new place, where everything, even cow manure, smells good, and the streets are clean and I don't have to sweat all day long. Maybe, as a TCK, because the thought of "home" is such a foreign concept to me, the comforts that I feel here in Switzerland have automatically made me feel like it's a home. A place where I can breathe, and feel at rest.

Something that many TCKs can probably relate to is "culture shock". Ever had it? That frustrating feeling of being totally overwhelmed and confused and...different? It's not very nice, and, unfortunately, I've had numerous such "culture-shocks" this summer.

Maybe that's also because my body wasn't as "well" as it usually is when my family arrives in Switzerland. Unfortunately, on Saturday, the day of our planned departure from Phnom Penh, my entire family managed to get food poisoning. Or better yet, Salmonella. It was due to a very sketchy can of refried beans (that had probably been punctured and gone bad without our noticing it), and it was absolutely lovely. Not. I threw up my favorite number of times: seven, and thanks to the glorious medicine our family doctor managed to give us shortly before our leaving the country, I didn't get to go number-two in over four days. Yipee.

But nonetheless, that's all over now. No longer do I have to dread the thought of eating my grandmother's delicious home-cooked dinners, nor hurt her feelings by grimacing when she asks me if I want seconds. At last, I can keep my food down.

Despite Salmonella, my family did pretty well arriving in the land of cheese and chocolate. My grandparents, from both sides, were delighted to see us (as usual), and we've been spending a lot of time with them this week.

The culture-shocks came when we went shopping. Grocery shopping is where it usually starts. Walking down the aisles, where there are hundreds of types of, well, everything, to choose from, staring at the startling prices, gaping at the endless array of cheeses and chocolates... well, it's overwhelming every time. I usually end up right in the middle of the store with my mouth wide open, stuck in the decision of crying or laughing or just running straight outside.

Then, when we go clothes shopping, it's like every overwhelming feeling is magnified by about a thousand. Walking down shopping squares crowded with white people who speak your language and look at you judgementally because it's so obvious you're not from around here, strolling into H&M and realizing you have a terrible taste in fashion because you live on the other side of the moon...

Not only do you feel the same as all these people, but you feel different in a way you'd never imagined.

Being different is different in Cambodia. There, people stare at you and charge you extra, but that's the end of it. But here, being different comes with doubting your own identity. You arrive in Switzerland, expecting to be the same as everyone else, and yet you arrive, realizing you're as different as ever. If I'm different in Cambodia, and I'm different in Switzerland, what am I really? Who am I really?

That's culture-shock. However unbelievably beautiful and peaceful-making Switzerland may be, culture-shock always drains my energy. It's not very nice.

Writing about this now, I have to think about something I realized today while writing in my prayer journal. It's difficult, as a TCK, to "come home" for the summer. There's the beautiful relief, but also the overwhelming identity crisis. It's really hard. But I realized today that God is the same, no matter where I am in the world. He's always with me. If I'm in Cambodia, He's there; if I'm in Switzerland, He's there. It doesn't matter how I feel. It doesn't matter where I am in the world, or what type of culture-shock I'm struggling with. Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever (Hebrews 13:8). Amen.

Why I Love Coffee

Living in Cambodia only a few years ago was difficult. There were no places to escape to other than your own house or a completely different country altogether. My family used to spend our summers and Christmas holidays either in Switzerland, or travelling around southeast Asia. I remember one of my favorite treats was going to Bangkok, a city I came to really fall in love with when I was younger, and going to Starbucks. It was like a dream, going to big, westernized coffee shop, ordering a superb coffee that, although overpriced, was totally delicious, and sipping it. It was like a relief, after all that terrible stuff we witnessed and experienced in Cambodia. Coffee was a part of my moment of peace, outside the country where there didn't seem to be anyplace to calm down and relieve my senses.

Nowadays, I'm so blessed with the abundance of coffee shops Cambodia has to offer now. We have literally hundreds of them now, dotting the street corners, especially in the more tourist-packed areas of the city. Phnom Penh has come a long way these past few years, and the arrival of these coffee shops is one of my favorite aspects of it. Now, I no longer have to travel by plane for an hour and a half to get to Starbucks; I have a lot wonderful, not-as-overpriced coffee shops right in my neighborhood!

I'm not saying that Phnom Penh doesn't still have the stressful aspects of it that it had many years ago - there are still times when I feel like I just need to go home, or get out of the country for a while. But usually that isn't possible. And that's when coffee is yet another part of my "escape", a way that I can "get away" from the stress and hubbub of everyday life in Asia, settle into a comfy chair in my air-conditioned bedroom and sip coffee from my favorite mug. Coffee makes me feel like everything's going to be okay, starting with the wonderful taste of it on my tongue.

I absolutely adore coffee. I drink mine fairly simply: only a generous dash of semi-skimmed milk in a mug of fresh, steaming black coffee is enough to satisfy me. It's how I start off every day.

Another glorious invention that entered the more-developed Phnom Penh was this: decaffeinated coffee. For some of you, this may not make sense. Many people around the world drink coffee for the caffeinated buzz it brings to keep you awake or help you stay alert at work. For me, I just drink coffee because it tastes good. That's the only reason I need. Which is why the decaffeinated stuff doesn't bother me. Same taste, and I can drink it at night. Doesn't that sound great?

Almost every night ever since my mom discovered this stuff first at the supermarket, she brews a small pot full of decaffeinated coffee at night, just for the two of us. It's our solution of how to calm ourselves down at night to escape from the stress of the day and think of more beautiful things. Some people like a glass of wine, or a hot bath. I drink decaffeinated coffee, and it's superb.

So yeah. Coffee. Caffeinated or not, it's definitely my favorite drink on this planet, and I love it.

About Airports and Flying: From the TCK Perspective

For people growing up in other countries, travelling sounds pretty exotic and colorful. I'm sure you people vividly remember your first plane trip to Spain, or your first road trip across Europe, or whatever. You remember exactly what it felt like to buckle those weird silver seat-belts for the first time and recall the fear that came with the rattling and whining of a plane speeding down the runway ready for takeoff.

Fortunately for me, travelling is something I've grown up with. I don't remember my first plane flight, because it happened when I was only a few months old. I don't remember the first time I crossed into a new continent, because it happened then too. For me, airports and planes are the norm. Or at least, it's something that doesn't scare me. In fact, I find take-offs and landings exhilarating. I love the feeling I get in my stomach when the plane lifts off the ground for the first time, like my stomach is still on the ground but the rest of my body is being carried away by the plane. It sounds gross, but I absolutely love it.

My entire life has been like a cycle of being in one place and then being transferred to another by an airplane. Like going through puberty, flying must have been something that freaked my parents out at the beginning, but now has just become something that is normal, and still mysterious, bizarre and awesome at the same time. But for me, having been flying regularly for as long as I can remember, airplanes aren't on my list of things that scare me.

I'm not sure exactly what makes me love airports and flying so much. But I think part of it is that I'm just sort of used to it. I'm used to the anxiety and fear of it all, and I think that growing up with it has helped me to push past that, into a realm where I feel at home at an airport, and I feel so excited and happy in a plane that I feel like I'm about to explode.

As a third culture kid, you tend to not associate your "home" with anything specific. 

For me, I feel "homesick" for both Switzerland and Cambodia, depending where I am. I don't know where my "home" is. In fact, "home" seems like a metaphysical word to me, something that I've never experienced or known in my life.

And I think that's another thing that makes me love planes so much. I love the idea of not being in a specific place. I love the thought that, when I'm in a plane, I'm not in Switzerland, or Cambodia, or anywhere else for that matter.

I'm just in a plane, thousands of meters above sea level, in no particular place. And I love to think that that's how I feel about my home - not being in a particular place, just with particular people, or at a certain time.

Being in a plane helps me to sort of make sense, for a short while, of what my real home is like, right there, above the clouds, not anywhere, but still a thing that I feel in my heart when I'm with my family or friends.

You might not understand. But it's something that I feel, up there, in a plane above the clouds. When I'm in a plane, it doesn't matter what I'm leaving behind or where I'm going, even though that thought does excite me a lot. What matters is that in that moment, I don't have to worry about whether the place I'm in is worthy to be called my home. And I love that.

Airports. Back on track here. Why do I love airports? Well, I love a lot of things about them. I love the little things: the way they can be stress-filled and relaxing to me at the same time, the variety of faces to see, the international environment I'm so addicted to...

But the main thing I love about airport is this:

I love the idea of thousands of people from all around the world coming together in one place. 

My entire life I've grown up in places like that. My school, for instance. We have 32 nationalities total. Ergo, we come from pretty much all around the world. And I love how that is similar too, in an airport. There are thousands of people there, each person with their own story - where they've come from, where they're heading - and they're all coming together in one place, at that airport. And I'm a part of that. It's also fascinating for me to think that they're also only there for a short time, just like my friends and I are only at my school for a short time each day, and about to embark on another journey, each person a different one for themselves, spreading out into different places again, all over the world.

Call me a culture nerd. But hey, that's how I feel. And it totally fascinates me!

So yeah. Airports, airplanes, flying across the world... in only a few days, I'll be doing just that. And I'm really excited, because it's one of the things I love most in the world. And as a "culture princess", I'm so blessed to be able to experience it over and over again.

When Your Older Sister Graduates from High School

This morning I woke up to the usual 30-plus degree-Celsius Cambodian weather and thought, 'In less than a week, I'll be elsewhere.' The thought hit me: I'm flying to Switzerland in five days. It was a totally bizarre thought. Time has been going by way too fast this year, but I think part of the issue lies with the fact that my sister is graduating. And I'm beginning to realize it.

Today was a day spent doing pretty much the usual since we moved into our new house less than two weeks ago: helping my mom with whatever she needs to get done before the summer. But then she asked me to pack for Switzerland. And reality kicked in.

As I was packing, I realized how normal the thought of 13-hour plane rides is to me. 

If I had grown up in a "western" country, I would probably be nervous, excited and probably a little stressed out as well, to be flying the long distance between Bangkok and Zurich. And yet, I'm only the excited part of the package. Why? Well, honestly, I love planes. I love travelling. And I love airports. And even though I do, it's still something that is strangely normal for me, to be heading back to my home country in the summer.

Other years I would have counted back the days since the school semester started in January. But this year, things are strangely different. The excitement is different. It's tweaked with a bit of anxiety, and a whole lot of sadness. Not because I'm afraid to fly, or because I'm going to miss Cambodia. It's because my older sis is graduating on Thursday. And I don't think I'm quite ready for it yet.

It feels like only yesterday we were little girls in Phnom Penh, happily playing with our huge collection of Barbies, barely aware of the fact that we were going to grow up eventually! And yet, the time that's passed since then has flown by so fast! It's so mind-blowing to think that I only have two years left of high school, and that I started high school that same amount of time ago. And yet it feels like only yesterday.

Time just goes by too fast. 

That's all there is to it. I wish that there was some button I could press to make it slow down when I want it to, and speed up when I want it to. But no. Time just goes by the way that it does - usually not the way I want it to. But it's all in God's plan.

It's true that it's only a matter of time before Jael graduates, and she's out the door. But I also know equally well that there is a lot to look forward to in the days to come - in the near future, and the not-so-near future. God's got a lot in store for my older sis, and for me. There are days when I'm not so sure why God's put me here, where a lot things I wish I had are not within my reach. But at the same time, I know that it's my sisters that God has put right beside me that I should be really, really thankful for. I would be a totally different person were it not for their love, honesty, and inspiration throughout my life.

Jael has been such a unique example for what I want to be like when I'm older. She's shown me what it's like to be a really, really great older sister, and I hope than once she's gone, I'll be able to be that same comfort to Maria, my "baby" sister. It's still a little scary to think that in a matter of days, I'll be the "older sister", the "leader", the one who is supposed to experience the world first. And yet, I've had someone who experienced it before me, helped me to see the challenges before I've had to face them myself. And I'm so blessed to know that that someone is in good hands now - in God's hands. She'll be just fine. And so will I.

5 Reasons to Fall Head-Over-Heels in Love with Cambodia

So, I've done my basic introduction to the place I live. Cambodia. A country in southeast Asia.. blah blah blah. But no, I have yet to convince you that it's a beautiful, amazing place to be. So, here is my lovely list of why you really should get over here to experience (and fall in love with!) this stunning country for yourself.

1. It's cheap. 

If you've ever been a tourist in Switzerland, you'll have experienced the usual 25-dollar meals and 100-dollar train tickets up the Alps. Expensive, I know. But you'll be shocked to come to Cambodia and find that you can get five t-shirts or four lunches for the price of one in Switzerland. Yep, Cambodia is cheap. And if you come here finding that it's NOT, let me just tell you that you've been ripped off. Big time. You can go to the movie theater for 3 dollars, for goodness' sake.

2. The people are friendly. 

One of the first things that people notice about Cambodia is the fact that everyone smiles at you! Wherever you go, there are kids screaming "Hello!" from the sidewalks and old ladies giving you crooked smiles from their shady street-side shops. The Cambodians are beautiful, in the way they smile and laugh, and I guess it's probably the one thing I love most about this country.

3. The scenery is actually really beautiful.

It's true that the dusty, flat Cambodian landscapes are nothing compared to the mountainous, green scenery you'll experience in Switzerland. But I guess that once you get out of the city, Cambodia can amaze you in many ways - and one of them is that the landscape can really make you speechless. For as far as you can see, there are endless fields of luscious, green rice fields, dotted with palms, and it's really amazing. Cambodia may not have the mountains, the snow, or the amazing forests, but it's got a beauty of its own. If you just take time to get out of the city, you'll be able to see it.

4. The weather is always warm.

Although I've never actually witnessed snow fall from the sky before, I can only imagine how dreary the winter months must get in those non-tropical countries of the world. Although some of you probably tend to stay away from hot weather as much as you can, it must be a real relief to be able to come to a country to defrost for a while. Enjoy the sunshine. Get a tan. And indeed, Cambodia is the perfect place for that. As long as you don't come in the rainy season, you'll have the guarantee of at least a few days of brilliant sunshine during your stay. Cambodia is hot sometimes, but the results are worth it. Even I can get a tan here! And that's saying a lot.

5. Cambodia is culture-rich.

It's probably the main reason so many tourists come here each year, and honestly, Cambodian culture is definitely not overrated. Asia in general amazes me so much in the way that every single country manages to have it's own unique and beautiful culture. And Cambodia is yet another example of the brilliance of Asia's adversity. In Cambodia, there is art, music, dance, food, but also smiles and little things that will leave those tiny impressions in your memory that will last a lifetime.

There is so much to do, to see and to taste here, but I think one of the main things that makes me so in love with this place is that it's the only thing I've ever known. Cambodia is one of the many places I can call home, but I think that in the end the one thing that I love most is that somehow, there are little bits of heaven everywhere I go.