The Posts That Weren't

     It's been a while. Whoops.

     It's not been for a lack of trying.

     I've started [and stopped] writing many times.

     Last night I knew I had to make time to write again. My world has become more and more work-centric despite my hopes of the opposite. By Friday at five, I knew I needed to do anything but work.

     Only problem is that right now I don't have any real hobbies in my life. My options were choosing cleaning as a hobby...or tucking my tail and really chewing through some cud to get some thoughts put together and words out.
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     Hi, I'm Krista,  and I chose to leave my dirty dishes in the sink and 700 sweatshirts on the floor to bring you this message.

     There's no way I can catch you up on all that has happened since mid-May 2015, but I figured I could purge my draft folder of the twelve half-written posts as use the titles as a hint as to what all has transpired these last 8 months. As a bonus, I'll include some that I didn't begin to write about, but absolutely should have. Without further ado, I present to you: 

The Posts That Weren't

• Tuesday

• This tells of dreading Tuesday Bible study, loving Tuesday Bible study, and the time I was "honored" to lead Bible study. Leading a Bible study in Swahili with no prior notice? Eight months later I'm still learning about forgiveness, and they're still trying to figure out what I was trying to say. 
• This was a bit of a double-feature, also recounting the time Jackson missed one week because a cobra spit in his eyes. And his prayer request next time we met together? Hiccups. He didn't like having hiccups. Friends, I assure you if a cobra ever spits in my eyes and blinds me for a few days, I'm leading with that as my prayer request until the end of time. 

• Jumanne

(L) Jumanne resting after he punched me on May 20; (R) As a parting gift to the teary mzungu, Jumanne decided to show off his new-found strength and sit up for me when I went to say bye on the 26th.

• Now that I think of it, this one was also called Tuesday. Jumanne (Jūma-letter N-neigh, not Jum-anne) is Swahili for Tuesday, but this one is about the boy, not the day. I just have to say the Lord knew I needed to buy tickets back to America when I did because otherwise I'd still be in Geita. (You should thank Him, Mom.) Jumanne was almost two when I met him, but he was the size of a baby baby and didn't have the strength to hold his own head up. Little dude was strong enough to punch me several times as I took care of him though. Anyone who fights my tough love (in this case, making him eat and drink) is a champ in his own right, and I was smitten.

• Kwa herini 

• This one I never wrote, but it would have been mostly about ugly crying.

• Where are you taking me?

•  After 900 years on airplanes, I finally landed at our hometown airport. And then I was promptly whisked away to an unknown land as my parents had moved away from my childhood home while I was gone. I was tired, disoriented because it was dark, and I had no idea where we were going. I remember seeing a couch on a neighbor's porch, several cars in another front yard, and a confederate flag too close for comfort.

• Where did you take me? 

•  This one was written in a state of panic inspired by a trip to my parents' local Walmart.

• Help Wanted Finding Helped Wanted

• This one just a picture of my sad, sad jobless face in case anyone had any leads.

• Home

Pictured: Grandma's glee about joining the water balloon fight. Not pictured: Grandma's fastball bruising my chest and Grandma laughing manically.

• They always said home wasn't a place, but I never believed them. Home was the corner lot my siblings and I grew up on. And then it wasn't. In June/July I started to realize I loved where my parents moved. A thousand bonus points for my faraway family reuniting and having a water balloon fight and pinata for my grandmother's birthday to help me realize how much I loved home wherever it was.

• A Note to Self (and Future Job-Searchers aka friends one year from now)
• With all the traveling across Alabama and Georgia for job interviews, I had time to reflect on the silliness of the whole process. I was painfully honest in my interviews because I figured people should have an idea of what they were getting (a partial transcript of my interviews, more or less: "Uh, yeah, I'm a child. I have no idea what I'm doing. But I would be happy to learn!") I was confident I'd get the kind of job I was looking for or survive if I didn't. But the process could still get discouraging, and I was very thankful that I did not believe my worth was decided by my interviewers.

• They Fell for It: The Day I Got a Job

 

• I accepted a position outside of Atlanta in hopes of finding an international community and friends my age. When the principal gave me a bag of pretzels for my drive back to Mom and Dad's after the interview, my interest was piqued. When she called and offered me a position that I didn't interview for but I felt a lot more comfortable in, I accepted. Kindergarten, buckle your seatbelt because here I come. 

• I Hate Comcast
• This was actually this first post in a series. It shouldn't be easier for me to get Internet in East Africa than it is in Atlanta, Georgia. But it was. 

• I Know Nothing
• I use a GPS to get to my job and my apartment. I know little about my school, and I know nothing about my kids. I am going to rock this year.

• Someone Called Me by My First Name
• A month into living here, someone called me Krista. Not, "Hey!" "Hey, girl!" "Ms. What's-Your-Name-Again, sorry I forgot," "Ms. Greememimerierp," "Ms. Greenweiler," or my class's favorite--touching me to get my attention. Someone looked me in my eyes, asked how I was, genuinely wanted to know, and used my first name. And I cried tears of joy.

• Living Abroad Changes a Person

• Fruit is expensive and tastes funny. I'm surprised by the feel of carpeted floors in my apartment. I shower every day, and I don't have to plan around the weather to take one. I save my Ziploc bags because there is no way I'm getting rid of them after just a few uses (though I don't miss hand-washing them between uses). Also, I'm sad I don't know my neighbors, and I judge the Land Rovers I keep seeing because a) money b) they have never been off-road.

• It'd Be Funny If It Were in Africa
• One particularly rough week in the fall I survived by pretending the lack of Internet was due to my Airtel bundle being out or power rationing, not because Comcast's being stinky heads. My tires needed replacing because of the ruts in the roads, not the nails in the road. And that the stress of not knowing the language was because everyone around me spoke Swahili and I didn't, not because everyone but me spoke educationese.

• The Last Child Caved 
•  My whole class has finally called me by my long last name! Sure, more 3/4 leave off the Ms., one goes with Greem-my-mur, and one prefers calling me Alvin. (One day I corrected the student as he/she munched on Chex Mix and repeatedly told me how good the chipmunks tasted. Our whole day is a big game of word association, and thus Alvin was born.) I'm working on striking down Alvin and Ms. Lady, ignoring Your Majesty and Professor (in case they stick), and embracing all the Greem-my-murs I now get in place of silence or small children launching themselves at me to get my attention.

•  I Danced at a Wedding on Purpose 

• Despite hating dancing and my not drinking, I momentarily danced at Joanna and Ryan's wedding. I also made this face.  

• If You Don't Have Anything Nice To Say, Don't Say Anything At All
• One of three rules of my childhood, along with, "if it's not yours, don't touch it," and "no playing on the stairs." Also the reason I posted so rarely between the months of May and [insert month here]. Thanks to all those innocent victims who asked how I was and got a more honesty in response than they bargained for. Extra thanks to those saints who asked me more than once.

• Retaliation

 

• We were talking about the five senses, and I was trying to get the most stubborn of stubborns to tell me about hearing. I pointed to her ears as a clue. And lickety split, and I literally mean lickety, Stubborn of All Stubborns darted and delivered a nice wet willie in the ear of her fabulous teacher. I wore earmuffs for the rest of the unit, but I expected blitzkrieg to continue whenever my guard fell.

• Thank You, Lord
• I went to a small group at someone's house very unsure of what I would find; I didn't know anyone there. I met a girl a few years older than me who started teaching last year and didn't immediately fall in love with it like she expected. I felt a little less alone drowning in my work life. The next week I met a girl who was a missionary in Europe--a single girl on a team of couples--who came home to the States before she was ready to. Cue instant friendship. 

• SOS

• I have a darling who refuses to count the number four, but I know she knows it. I think this year is a object lesson in how God feels every time I neglect to do what I know I should. I don't think the Lord tricks me into doing what he wants, but I'm not above doing that to The Darling Small Child. HELP MEEEEEEE.

• Mourning
• I mourned missing out on celebrating several events with my friends at Neema House since I was with them. I called my friends in America who love me better than I deserve when Jumanne walked. I cried happy tears when Zepha returned to the care of his father. But on December 11, I mourned and cried for a different occasion. Baby Musa passed away after his body couldn't bounce back from the constant fight, and while it was an honor to celebrate his life from afar, it was hard to be so far away from those who loved him so. When Suzanna passed away a few days later, again I cried for the loss. When you read this, take a timeout to pray for Musa, Suzanna, Neema House, and their families please.

• Thank You, Lord--Part 2
• It was more often than not that I wasn't at small group near the holidays, but one week I managed to make it and meet a man who used to be a missionary in Kenya. Considering our group has about eight people there on a regular basis, the Lord continually blesses me by surrounding me with people who this not-so-good-at-meeting-people person is able to talk to.

• Look. Bells.

• It's a Christmas miracle! Darling Small Child has counted to four for me this week. And she has a new trick. The other day she marched in off the bus, and though she is a Darling Small Child of few words, she said, "Hey. Look. Bells." and proceeded to shake her jingle bell barrette with such fervor it shook right out of her hair. And into my heart. 

• Christmas Choreography
• My class puts on a holiday program for the school. Thankfully their music teacher put together the choreography for us, but because they have music so infrequently yours truly was responsible for teaching the choreography. Yes, the same yours truly who has not an ounce of rhythm or dance or musical talent within a three mile radius of her. Worry not--my kids were stars and brought down the house. And if anyone needs help choreographing a dance to "Marshmallow World" or Josh Groban's "Believe," holla at ya girl. 

• Christmas

• Also known as Thank You, Lord--Part 3. Also the time I shattered my brand new crockpot and the time my brother Mike once again won Christmas gift-giving. 

• Love and Loss II: How I Lost Best Friends (Again) over Scattergories
• New Year's was the best. I got to see a number of my closest friends from college. It was fun seeing Will and Haley's place, eating wedding cake Scott brought for me as a consolation for not marrying me, and all walking around Homewood together. I accidentally ruined the fun and all friendships by pelting those who disagreed with me during Scattergories. We all prayed with and for one another (including prayers for forgiveness and anger management for a certain someone), and it was really wonderful to see and hear how the Lord was proving faithful in all of the uncertainty in all our lives as we begin jobs, grad school, marriages, and manage/anticipate big moves. Prayers against cynicism really challenged me to ask for that too despite that being who I am at the moment. I left Birmingham with renewed admiration for each of my friends and a peace that certainly surpassed my understanding.

• I Have [New] Friends 
• Mark the date: January 4, 2016. A few people at work were happy to see me in January, and I didn't hate hearing about all I'd missed in their lives either. I knew it was real because they not only called me Krista, but also called me out on the faces I make when I shouldn't be making faces.

• A Good Day for Travel

• Two years ago last weekend was the last time I'd seen snow. I haven't been in America for a whole January, February, March, or April since 2013. Two years ago I was on my way to Malawi, last year I was headed toward the Serengeti, and last weekend I went to my parents' and enjoyed the snow.

• How to Defend Yourself Against An Army of Tiny People
• This is my latest work in progress inspired by my army of tiny people losing their minds on the 100th day of school. I haven't come up with a foolproof defense, but I am planning to cruise straight from Day 99 to Day 101 next year to prevent another misbehavior ambush. Wish me luck. And rest. 

    I think that about catches us up and covers most bases. I'm going to go try to find that rest I've been looking for since Day 100. Until I write again in eight months, enjoy!