And now

I don't know why I get so pensive when I am sick or in pain, but it's an unfortunate thing. I don't always want to be hurt to be expressive. I guess it's the only time I am really forced to slow down and given the opportunity to think and write. It makes sense why so many artists and poets write and create when they are feeling emotional because of pain or sadness...I always wondered why and now I suppose I know.

My mother told me quite a while ago that I should start blogging...more frequently than I do...because "I can put words together well and express myself through writing". My mother, like all mothers, have such great influence on their children and what a blessing it is that my mom encourages me to create and express my thoughts and opinions. Although I don't think what I have to say is all that important to everyone, I think I'll take my mother's suggestion and try it. Writing sure helps sort out my thoughts and feelings, and I hope there is some good to someone among the babbling. :)

It is 1:03 in the morning of Wednesday the 29th of July of 2015, and what a year of life changing events it has been since this time last year. Right now I am battling the exhaustion my eyes and body feel with the ache and throbbing pain my foot and toe feel. The two don't mix very well and the toe is winning to say the least. This is why I am currently writing and in a deep, pensive state...pain. This day last year I was flying out to the beautiful Kingdom of Tonga to begin my student teaching as a secondary art teacher. This was a moment I had been waiting for since I was eight years old and "playing" school in the basement with my awesome little sisters, Hillary and Rachel. I attended university for seven years to get to this point, and what do you know....I was going to be starting my adventure as a student teacher in a land I came to love: Tonga. Tonga; I used to look at that word and wonder what it was like there. I knew people from Tonga and Tongan families here in Utah and South Jordan, but what was this island that everyone talked about really like? Was it anything near what you see in the only movie (that I know of) about Tonga, The Other Side of Heaven? What was going to happen while we were there? I had imagined falling in love with the people, my students, the school, and had actually told my dad one day last summer while we were driving between jobs for his lawn care business, that I would actually move there, and live and teach there. I asked him what he thought about it. He laughed, smiled and asked if I was serious, which I answered yes to, and then he said, "Well, sure Jess. That sounds like something you would do." I remember jokingly saying with my friends, "All I need to do is get someone to marry me who will go there and live with me while I teach!" Little did I know what the Lord had coming in just a few short weeks.

I look at the word Tonga now and my heart warms up; my eyes fill with tears, and I feel so much love, and happiness, and also a longing to be there. I see my students, the thick, choppy grass under my choco sandals as I walked back and forth from my classroom to the apartment; I see geckos, I see Pingi and yellow bags of dried peas, I see so many smiling faces and sandy shores, with rocky cliffs, and ocean everywhere. I see a boy that stole my heart on a rugby field while the tongan cows mooed in the background to a chorus of beautiful christians singing hymns in the magical way the tongans\ people can sing. I can see this boy's smile and still smell his "perfume" that he wore that would always make Tammy say, "There's a yummy man in the house!", to which Maka would turn his face to and go shy. I can feel the wind on my face and the bumps from the gravel roads as we drove to town to get sugar covered donuts or passionfruit ice cream from Hi-5 burgers. I can still feel that sweet sensation from Maka's hand grabbing mine as we walked through the market next to the wharf and bought shirts and souvenirs for family back home. I can see the sun setting and remember the cool breeze going through my soaked shirt and skirt the first time I swam fully clothed in the blow holes. I remember taking a blanket out to the "wi-fi" spot and hoping someone from my family was online so I could see their faces and hear their voices as they talked about home and what was going on, but to also tell them all I was seeing and experiencing. I can see the braided hair girls and waxed hair boys in green and white walking all over the campus and sitting in their desks waiting to see what the palangi teacher was going to do today. I can still feel the ache in my heart as I sat in the conference room the last week of our student teaching as I watched the mentor teachers stand and talk about each one of my dear friends....my sisters...who had joined me on the trip to Tonga just a few weeks prior but felt like a life time we had spent there. I remember the overwhelming love and humility I felt as I stood next to my own mentor teacher and watched as this big tongan man crumbled with emotion and cried about our time together ending. Tonga is not just a place anymore that has beautiful beaches and a culture that engulfs your heart; Tonga is my home and it's my family.

Now on the 29th of July 2015, I am married...to that Tongan boy that so perfectly walked into my life right when I needed him...right when we needed each other. And as our dear Papa Patch put it at our wedding reception a few weeks ago, we didn't just meet for the first time in Tonga but we seemed to be reacquainted that fortunate night that seems like so long ago. I feel like Makafana has always been in my life.
Today I am a UVU graduate with a bachelors degree in art education, and currently with a contract to teach at Oren Junior High School for the school year 2015-2016. I am also an assistant basketball coach for the ninth grade girl's team at Orem Junior, and recently a girl without a bunion or a car.