Goodbye, Haibung

If you’ve been following this blog, you’ll know that I’ve published my last few goodbye speeches from when I left an All Hands Volunteers (now called All Hands and Hearts) project. You’ll also know that I spent some of February this year volunteering with them again on a project near Haibung, Nepal. Here’s more or less my speech from when I left earlier this year (if I hadn’t forgotten it and paraphrased in the heat of the moment):

This isn’t the first goodbye speech I’ve given.

And this isn’t the first you’ve heard either. Every few days, another one of us stands up here and says goodbye, gets a few hugs, and boards a bus the next morning, lost to friend requests and Facebook updates for the next few months. As travelers, we’ve gotten used to goodbyes. We meet amazing people in amazing places and have amazing experiences, only to pack our bags and head off to the next big adventure. We’ve each encountered so many special individuals we may never see again. Some of us, I think, have grown numb to leaving.

This isn’t my second goodbye speech.

An I’ve said goodbye to so many wonderful people. I’ve said goodbye to a Polish girl with a photographic eye and a passion for fundraising. I’ve said goodbye to a man who introduced himself to me by the name “Biscuit.” I’ve said goodbye to a man I threw up on after a tough concrete pour and to another man who still has a picture of me unconscious in the hospital in the aftermath. I’ve said goodbye to a Project Director who sang while she washed her shoes and to a friend who’d throw cold water at her friends over the shower walls.

This isn’t my third goodbye speech.

But by my third speech, I had learned that goodbye speeches aren’t often real goodbyes. The girl with the photographic eye is our very own Kasia here in Project Haibung. “Teddy Biscuit” boarded a bus to go on break the other day. I threw up on Prajwal, and Nabaraj has a photo of me unconscious in a hospital bed. One of the many beautiful parts of being an All Hands and Hearts volunteer is that so many of us keep finding our way back.

This isn’t my fourth goodbye speech.

And as I look out at all of you, I see friends, family, bonds that have formed between fellow travelers on this school build, strengthened through concrete pours and bucket showers. And I want you to know that when it is your turn to stand up here, you don’t have to say goodbye. The world is only as big as we want it to be, and there will always be more projects that need your help. We are all part of this All Hands family, and I’ve learned that an All Hands goodbye never has to be a real goodbye.

This isn’t my fifth goodbye speech.

But I do want to take this time to thank the staff and all of you volunteers for opening up your arms and letting us in. For being patient with us and teaching us how to be better people. These memories are not ones that will be easily forgotten.

This is my sixth goodbye speech.

And what I’m trying to say is something other than goodbye. What I’m trying to say is that if you ever want to eat barbecue and drink soju, come visit us in South Korea. If you want to sing karaoke songs in dark rooms lit by spinning disco balls, come visit us in South Korea. If you want to dance in the street under neon lights until the first train runs at six in the morning, come visit us in South Korea and you will have a place to rest your head. But if you want to make a difference again: shovel gravel, pour concrete, and dig trenches, come back to All Hands and Hearts, and I’ll see you on the next project.