A journal entry from Croatia

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I was surprised to find how quickly six weeks flew by. It still feels like yesterday when I first arrived in Zagreb, tried my first pastry, and ate my first Croatian meal. I said "goodbye" to students that I just met.

Even in that flash of time, we built fierce relationships and made lasting memories that I will always hold on to, including dancing during breaks, writing letters to American pen pals, and sharing stories from our home countries. I will work to remember their beautiful faces, joyful toothy smiles, and infectious laughter.

This group of sweet, silly, and rambunctious third graders showed me how persistent, curious, and loving children can be. Even in the inevitable moments when I felt frustrated, overstimulated, and overwhelmed, countless others made me feel warm and blissfully content. I giggle at photos of the student dressed up in a handmade knight costume for Halloween and a group of boys posing in front of their bridge made of blocks. 

It is still hard to recognize that I may never see these lovely students again. And I know that is the case for the majority of the classes I have observed; however, I cannot easily visit this group in person. The past week, they've asked "When are you coming back, Teacher Meghan?". My heart breaks when I tell them honestly, "I don't know." The reality is, maybe never again.

Saying "goodbye" to this class felt reminiscent of my farewell to my Minnesota class. I read aloud a letter I addressed to the class documenting my favorite memories, routines, and keepsakes from our time together. We sat in a circle on the hard, wooden floor, with our knees close together. As I read the letter, I noticed students resting their heads on each other's shoulders, putting their arms around each other, or slowly putting their heads down. I began to cry, and soon many of the students joined me. We completed our farewells together in a warm hug.

On my way out of the school, I looked up one last time at the classroom window. Across from the courtyard, I saw the most beautiful scene: a line of my students, crowding the cold window with their faces pressed against the glass. All of them. . .waving "goodbye" one last time. I raised my hand to wave back, warm tears filling my eyes again. I held their gaze until I turned the street corner away from the school. It took so much energy to turn and walk away.

My time student teaching in Croatia is over, but the memories I made with those students will always stay with me. I will keep them in my thoughts as I embark on a three-week backpacking trip across Europe. I will think of them on my flight home. I will remember them as I experience my first snowfall of the season and family Christmas celebrations. They will stay with me as I begin my spring semester and, eventually, graduate.

I wish to return to Croatia at some point. I hope to bring my future family and friends to Krivi Put and the old tobacco factory my great-grandparents worked at. I want to visit the Dolac market, speak in broken Croatian, and have coffee and a chocolate croissant over a three-hour-long conversation. One of the best gifts I've ever received was visiting an ancestral homeland with my family. I dream of returning to the soft yellow and pink church in Krivi Put and sharing family history with future loved ones.

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Previous post: a poem for krivi put

"A poem for Krivi Put" documents my observations and recollections of the day in a town that I will always hold close to my heart.

Read poem

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