Excerpts from Kate Vickery's Letters Home:

The range of emotions my traveling companions and I have gone through is staggering. I floated through most of the summer on the emotional high of knowing that sometime in the distant future I would be traveling to Thailand for six month. "I'm really excited," I told people as I nonchalantly breezed over the fact that I would have to learn Thai once I arrived. As the departure date grew closer, however, fear started to settle in as it always does for me before I embark on a journey away from my comfortable space and routine. My nervousness was less about where I was going than it was about where I was leaving, so saying good-bye was hard and painful; I clung to my parents and my boyfriend as if six months were going to last a lifetime. And then, before I really knew what was going on, I was on a plane, bound for a developing counry on the opposite side of the globe.

Some days I am lucky enough to be caught up in the rapture of being in a foreign country; others I am bogged down by the smog I breathe in or the energy it takes to learn a language from scratch. Most often, I am caught in a whirlwind of feelings that leave me exhausted at the end of the day, content to simply sit and mindlessly watch Thai television with my host family.

The steadiest form of joy I have found so far has come from my three-year-old brother, whom I affectionately call nong Buoy, and whom I have taught to "give me five," which he does with a smile and happy squeal. The life a child brings to a house never ceases to amaze me, and the self-sufficiency of this particular child is incredible. He entertains himself for hours while his parents and I leisurely eat dinner at a restaurant, as my host father Banana (all Thais have nicknames -- I have been dubbed Mao, Thai for "cat," their pronunciation of Kate) explains Thai politics in simple English and even simpler Thai. Life is made both delightfully simple and not-so-delightfully frustrating when one is forced to use the most rudimentary vocabulary and phrases; I have found myself becoming adept at finding several ways to express the same idea, hoping one will be understood.

My favorite moments in Thailand so far have been those where I am able to focus all my attention on a detail or a gesture or phrase. I love sitting in front of a huge image of the Buddha at a wat (temple) in the city, discussing Buddhism one-on-one with a new Thai friend. I was peaceful and content in this island of serenity in the midst of a city of pollution and noise. I love seeing Buoy's face when I walk in the door, and his rush towards me is perhaps my favorite moment of each day. Other highlights: standing at the base of a crashing waterfall, feeling the spray whisper past my face and hair; driving past a solitary woman working in a rice paddy near my house; hearing the laughter of a group of children who either have AIDS or are orphans of the disease. These are the moments in which I hae delighted.