To All My Foreign Families.

After our mountain fun yesterday, we headed out to begin saying our goodbyes to California. To the surprise of everyone- himself included- he actually made it to the end of his contract. Sure he had to endure being fired twice and all that movie nonsense of the beginning, but what does any of that matter. He's got two work days left and then he's done. For real this time.

I feel like I've begun so many goodbye parties with California, that this one wasn't so bad. Each time he was fired, we would hang out and I'd sit there thinking that this might be the last time I get to see or karaoke with one of the members of my foreign family. He's the first foreigner Jenn and I met after arriving in Korea. He helped walk us through it all way back when we were dumb and thought we understood what we had gotten ourselves into. He's the only person still here who even remembers what I was like 11 months ago. He's the only one who knew the old me. I'm about to become the most experienced teacher Ruby has. I thought this goodbye would be really difficult for me, but it actually wasn't too bad.

I'm just happy for the guy. I feel like we all won a little victory here. One of us made it to the end. Go team.

I guess I've become better at saying goodbye to my foreign families. I've been abroad before, I know how it works. You don't just say goodbye to people and they disappear forever. I've got friends from all of my foreign excursions that I still meet up with at least once a year. Not all of them, but the ones who matter at least.

Foreign families are a necessary part of life abroad. They're the people who stand by when all the unbelievable nonsense happens. They're the ones who are there lecturing you about the ill effects of making eye contact with street vendors while staring at a lit up Eiffel Tower. They're the ones who walk into a tattoo parlor called ZZTop so you can get a tattoo on the Cypriot boardwalk in Ayia Napa and laugh while you try - unsuccessfully- to explain what exactly led you to scream "Options!" while standing in the middle of the street instead of just picking a side. They're the ones who throw scorpions in your hair and save you from sketchy men on the Cayes of Belize. They're the ones who are standing next to you in a Korean "spa" looking just as uncomfortable and just as determined to get through it. They're the ones who head out on an adventure that you've admitted you're winging and still have the time of their life. They're the ones who stay up all night with you when you lose someone and you're too far away to attend a funeral.

They're what you have on the other side of the world. They may not necessarily be the people you would choose for companionship in the States in the life you've left behind, but they're the only family available and they step up. Foreign families are a fact of life abroad whether you accept them or not. We don't have so many options over here that we can pick them. Not like you get to pick your real families either (and you still love those).

They may not be forever- I couldn't prove they are- but they sure don't just dissolve at the end of the journey. We head out on different adventures for a while, yeah, but there are only so many people who remember the same things you do. They know about cheeja-peeja or game faces or monkey mats or seahorses.

You can talk to whoever you want when you get home about what happens to you overseas. You should. You have a lot of good stories to tell. But there are only so many people you can talk with; your foreign family helps you tell the tale.