When you stay by yourself for an extended period of time, you find yourself doing a lot of weird things. Like tons of life-reflection, even life-fictionizing. (You mean I DIDN`T run into Donald Miller on a Portland streetcorner while talking on the phone to my friend Lauren and discussing deeply interesting spiritual things, at which time Don would stop, look at me, invite me to church, and then proceed to fall in love with me???) Right. That will happen AFTER PC.
A year-ish ago, I was a new, fresh, glowing college grad eating a Flying Cupcake cupcake in Indianapolis with my new amazing host family and new amazing roomie who I:d only met a few days before at the Nashville airport. That whole summer was about surviving missionary life obstacles, staying afloat with an unpaid internship, and hopping over to my second home, Belgium. I came home an absolute wreck because I had two options. Belgium missionary shenanigans or Peace Corps African (at the time) service. I was really really confused.
But. Here I am! Showering every 3-4 days. (Dont judge... you have running water!) Waking up early because I was too `busy` reading a book to plan for class, finally discerning the difference between church bells (which ring ALL the time) in my village, rocking out to new random songs on my ukulele, dreaming of random things... like being 9 months prego and chasing a jumping molokau in my parents bedroom, and surviving the mumbling, un-anunciated speech of my Tongan peers.
I do a lot of thinking. A lot of motivation and attitude-checking. A lot of friend-making. Tons of reading. Cockroach-killing, Ant-massacring (or eating...which is the same), family-missing. Story-telling.
The other night, one girl showed up for my night class (story of my life), and I let her draw a metaphorical picture for a poster contest in Fiji, and after she finished, she asked to braid my hair. It made me think of my first night in my new Ha`apai home, where I bonded with my host sisters by braiding their hair. (The Tongan braid is much stronger and much more intricate...my braid is sloppy from braiding my own hair for years.)
My awesome family sent me a coffee press, and I reflected on my relationsihp with coffee, starting with my late night adventures to Nashville with my dad for pitching lessons. (Sometimes I hardly remember I played softball like it was my entire being!) He and I would stop at a quick-stop gas station (oh to see one of those here...) and grab an uber-sweet cappuccino... now, I prefer my coffee black, if its strong enough and with good flavor.
And friend-reflecting. Oh, how I miss all my amazing friends (this includes family, as they are some of the best friends I have), and how I miss just being THERE. Just relaxing on a couch, having movie marathons, religious philosophizing, games-playing, life-contemplating, weekend-trip-planning.
In a year and a half, when I am permanently back in Clean Life (for however long that is), Reflection will be my middle name. Ohhhh friends, prepare yourself. And have a tape recorder ready for when I sleep... Im dreaming in Tongan, so I`m sure random languages will start spewing out in my dreams.
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