As my fellow volunteers and I slowly sipped our cold Chang beers, we discussed a topic we not only all agreed on, but we knew for sure what the outcome would be.

This was in October 2016, one month before the doomed election which to many, including myself not only set our country back but marked all of us with a stigma.

The group of us were not only Americans traveling through Thailand, but a mix of cultures, ages and sexes, and each of us were aware of a big change looming over the heads of the United States of America. What would history mark this as?

While traveling outside of your country and comfort zone, I have learned, reality begins to feel like a foggy dream. You are aware but disconnected.

I had felt this way, just weeks prior while volunteering in a village outside of Chiang Mai. I and two other volunteers were helping a village build a new temple.

We assisted in the grinding of stones and combining the mixture with water, not understanding a word told to us or the conversations of the villagers as we worked beside them.

After a while, we took a break and sat in under an umbrella to cool down from the mid-afternoon sun, when one of the monks came over to talk to us.

Within minutes, we saw an older man pedaling towards us with an icebox.

“Ice cream!” the monk cheers and asks if we would like some. Then the rounds begin of deliciously cold, ice cream on white bread is being passed around. Yes, white bread ice cream sandwiches, and while we eat, the monk asks each one of us where we are from. The other volunteers are from Ireland and I am from USA.

The monks face breaks into a smile and he chants “Obama, Obama!” His excitement for my president is contagious and we chant with him. He then tells us of his recent trip to Myanmar where he got to see President Obama.

I felt very proud to be an American.

A month later, I would be sitting in my kitchen, clutching a glass of wine so tightly I thought the glass would shatter in my hands. I listened as the votes came in and my American pride crumbled onto the floor, like bits of stone being washed away.

The people I met on this journey, from different parts of the world held one strong connection, we felt for sure the people of the USA were going to be part of world history.

Well, they were right….

Now, as I plan another trip, during another election, what does the world think of us now?