As a literary student, I have learned to pay close attention to symbolic events. Meals, journeys, or changes of weather are some examples of things that any student of literature will slow down to closely analyze and search for levels of meaning. Weather is often used to represent a mood or indicate a shift in a story. Thunderstorms, for example, often suggest wrath from the Gods, or the occurrence of some unnatural event: black magic, for example. Rain, however, often has a very positive connotation when it is not accompanied by thunder or lightning. Showers represent change, a washing away of old residue, a renewal of life.

So it was not lost on me this morning that after spending a difficult night encumbered by thoughts about what I have learned and seen since my arrival in Laos, I stepped out of the hotel and right into a heavy downpour of warm, refreshing rain.

After our last session at AFESIP we held a short meeting before the rest of the MSR team took off for the weekend. (I decided to stay behind.) During the meeting Julie explained to us that the song the Girls Sang for us before leaving is a Buddhist song, often sung at funerals. The lyrics, “this is not goodbye, it is until our next encounter” are indicative of the Buddhist belief in reincarnation and the philosophy that nothing is ever lost, only changed.

Buddhism preaches that the cause of all suffering is attachment to Worldly Things. Being attached causes one to suffer because worldly things are persistently evolving and changing. Impermanence permeates everything we know, including ourselves. In order to relieve one’s self of suffering, one must come to the realization that all things are forever decomposing, dying, coming alive, and changing. Once we have accepted this, it is easier to let go of the things we have “lost”.

One of the more beautiful concepts of Buddhism relates to this idea of “loss”. Like physics, Buddhism preaches that there is never truly a loss, only a change. Basic high school Physics classes introduce us to the concept that matter never disappears, it simply changes forms or turns into energy. Buddhists believe that everything in this world is one and the same, continuously and eternally connected. This is because as one thing dies and decomposes, it changes forms, returns to the earth and becomes part of the life of something new. Every cell in our body is composed of particles that have existed since the beginning of time, that have been part of innumerable combinations of different entities, beings, and matter. Thus parts of us have all at one time been parts of the same entity. The idea that we are completely “individual”, or “separate”, is one of the illusions Buddhists seek to free themselves from.

Unlike other religions, Buddhism does not believe in a single God or creator. Instead, a “Buddha” is simply a human who has achieved a state of Enlightenment and thus has been released from the cycle of life and suffering. Enlightenment occurs when a soul has freed itself from all the attachments and illusions that keep us from being truly happy and free. Every living soul is on a quest for Enlightenment, and the work you put into achieving this goal in your current lifetime will determine the circumstances of your next lifetime. When you have achieved Enlightenment, you are free, released from the cycle of rebirth.

So when the girls sang us a Buddhist song about how “this is not goodbye,” they were not trying to be optimistic about the hopeful but highly unlikely event that one day we might cross each other walking down the street. No, they were saying this is not the end. We have countless more lifetimes, shapes and forms to assume, and chances to meet again.

A wise friend of mine once said to me, “You don’t meet your true friends, you recognize them.” How true it is that the people I am closest to I have always felt an immediate attraction towards. Perhaps sometime in the very, very distant future, I will meet these girls again and something inside me will know that we have a lifetime of friendship ahead of us.

For the present, ever fleeting moment, the rain has subsided and I’ve decided to partake in another event of literary symbolism: the feast. In How to Read Literature Like a Professor, Thomas C. Foster writes, "whenever people eat or drink together, it’s a communion,” and specifies that the message behind the gathering of individuals for a meal is to indicate, “I’m with you, I like you, we form a community together.” Significantly, I dine alone. But as I contemplate the philosophy of the country I have had the chance to visit, it is quite impossible to feel lonely.