We are almost at the 2 month mark, and things are starting to form a routine. Gone are the days when we were appalled at the amount of ants in everything and their ability to find our food. Gone are the days when we wondered what that chirping noise was in our walls every night. Gone are the days of melting in the excessive heat and guarding our skin from sunburns and being wary of the muddy river water that flows from our sink. Gone are the days of trying to pace and savor a care package so we could make it last as long as possible.
Our life has changed since that night when we nervously stepped off the United flight in our button up shirts and slacks into the hot, muggy, night air of Kosrae, driving through the jungle with no idea what the year would hold.
The new, exciting adventure feeling is beginning to wear off, and our island adventure is becoming life now. Not to say this in a negative way! Every day holds its own adventure, but we are becoming less like strangers and more like inhabitants to the island.
So I figured I would let you in on some of the daily life that we live here now, as we begin to feel the change from "Nervous Missionary who Can't Speak Kosraen" to "White Islander who Still Can't Speak Kosrean".
Here is a picture of what seems to be an average day in the missionary household:
3:30 am: Why am I up? Oh, yes of course. "Richard, normal roosters crow in THE MORNING. Although it technically is morning, at least wait until the SUN IS UP!" I scold in my head, but I don't have the will to actually get out of bed and do something about it.
3:45 am: Richard again.
4:30 am: Woken up suddenly. For some reason I see the dark form of a human against my far wall. Instinctually I reach for my knife on my nightstand and flip on the light in terror. Funny how a backpack looks like a body when it is hung on the wall.
6:05 am: Richard grants my previous request.
6:58 am: I wake up just in time to see that my alarm is going to ring in 2 minutes. I figure that is enough time to grab 2 more minutes of sleep.
7:35 am: After deciding my alarm isn't loud enough, I get out of bed and brush the ants out of my leg hairs. I sleepily whisk up some powdered milk, and indulge in some care-package cereal. I try not to look at the brigade of ants weaving in and out of the delicious flakes and swimming in my milk. At this point, ants weigh very lightly against Honey Bunches of Oats.
7:59 am: Ryan discovers that the ants have found the last safe place in the house: The hammock. Time to move the cereal stash. We discover Tyler looking in the bathroom mirror, trimming his few facial hairs with a pair of nail clippers. Ryan and I have a brief discussion about his manliness. 
8:05 am: There is another brief discussion about how none of us have a good lesson plan for the day after last week's grueling "test week" and we decide that there will be lots of coloring and "winging it". The conversation awkwardly concludes when Tyler confesses he dropped a clear push pin in the kitchen last night, and it is nowhere to be found.
8:20 am: We realize it is 8:20.
8:20:03 am: We are magically dressed into our collared shirts and long pants, ready to head to the 8:00 staff worship. We are the first ones there.
8:30 am: The school bus comes and ejects 60 students before it disappears as fast as it came, the evil laugh of the driver still echoing off the school walls. Ryan, Tyler, and I march towards our classrooms as if we were marching to war.
8:35 am: I pull out Stella for her daily exercise. "Alright class, what song should we sing?"
"King Jesus is All! KING JESUS IS ALL! KKKIIIINNGGG JJEEESSUSSSISALLLLL!!!!!
After the ringing in my ears subsided, I found that in the course of the song I had inadvertently started a "loudness competition" with Tyler's 1st and 2nd graders next door. Within moments, both classes had the audible momentum as a runaway freight train. Ears plugged, I pop my head in to Tyler's classroom. He is shaking his head with a hopeless smile on his face.
12:00 pm: After I try and explain the concept of "place value", I come upstairs and collapse into a bowl of Ramen. Few words are said at lunch in order to preserve precious energy needed for the rest of the day.
12:35 pm: While I am teaching singular and plural nouns, I suddenly realize that my whole class is imitating everything I do behind my back. I turn around and make a motion with my arm. All 16 of my kids do the same motion in unison.
"Ooga booga booga!" I flail my arms.
"Ooga booga booga!" they repeat flailing.
"Beedoo beedoo!"
"Beedoo beedoo!" They echo.
I all of a sudden was reliving that one scene from Ice Age 2, where all the little sloths are imitating Sid because they think he is the Fire God, and it was brilliantly fun. I told this story to Tyler, and I quickly realized that you had to be there.
3:00 pm: The kids are whisked away by the big yellow bus, and we come up to the apartment and over-damatically rip our clothes off.
4:00 pm: I go spearfish for dinner in the reef for a while, and see a stingray the size of a tablecloth hanging out with me. Tyler claims he could have reached out and touched it from where he was fishing.
6:30 pm: Time for dinner. Every evening is a chance to make food that is more and more edible.
10:00 pm: Bedtime. "Fung wo"'s are exchanged, and I brush my feet off to climb into bed. My bedside lamp advertises its light to the entire bug population of Kosrae, and soon I decide that it will be short journal entry tonight. I close my eyes, and next thing I know I will be doing it all again tomorrow. But somehow in the clamor and unique routine, I find that I fall asleep with a smile on my face.
Peace from the tropics,
River
River, this is the BEST! I had to reread this to my aunt and my grandma, and we just laughed the whole way through. Too funny! I'm so glad you are having a good time. Sounds like the kiddos are enjoying you too! Looking forward to hearing more stories!
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