Well Here We Are Again,

I will probably write again soon.

Nov 22/13

A Pleasure Deferred, A Need Fulfilled.

Over the last few days my aunts and uncles had been planning furiously for a gathering that would happen as a result of my dad comming to the US for a couple weeks. It was the plan that on Saturday, the 14, we would go to visit one of my aunts, and that the rest of the family would travel to meet us there. However in the two days preceding the event, several members of the family had to decline the date due in part to bad weather.

So at the request of the many, the date was changed to Sunday the 15. So that made today kindof a free day. Right? Biggest misconception I'd made yet on this transition.

I got up this morning and had gotten straight to work— typing up The Beginning of The End. I had nothing planned ALL DAY LONG. I'd been typing since about 7:30 and it was nine. It was time for a break. Wandering lazily down the hallway, I became accutely aware that something wasn't quite right. I could hear my grandma calling, " Irene? Irene?" I was also aware of my dad running, and trying to get his shoes on rather quickly. Grandma Kuball, was an old friend of the family. She was one of those people that was always happy, and would always find something to laugh about even in less than pleasant circumstances. But this didn't sound right. There was something wrong.

I ran back to my room and got out of my pajamas and into my clothes from yesterday which were set in similar fashion to the way in which a fireman's suit usually is, thank goodness for that. As I stripped my pajama shirt, thoughts raced through my mind. I raised my shirt to get into it, I stopped. I brought my hands down so as to better see them. They were shaking, I also became aware of a lump in my throat. I took a deep breath, another, and another. Now was not the time for emotion. I pushed it all out of my mind, and swallowed the lump. After I got my belt buckled, I ran and put my shoes on as fast as it was possible. I darted out the door after my dad and aunt Diane who had already been gone for a few minutes.

I ran, following my dad's foot prints, frankly because I couldn't find aunt Diane's. I didn't have time to take in the snow that was splashings into my shoes, nor the bitter cold wind that tore (it was really windy earlier) at my face. Because, I wasn't even out side for a minute before busting through the door into the house. The first thing I saw, was my dad and aunt Diane just standing in the kitchen. I wasn't quite sure what to make of that. By the looks that they gave me I would imagine that I looked pretty worked up. I peeked around the refrigerator, which blocked most of the rest of the room from where I was standing. I didn't see anything on the floor on first glance. I was about to ask where grandma Kuball was when I took a second glance and saw that she was sitting at her table. What the... What!?! I was confused.

She greeted me, and I her. We talked a bit about the fact that I was back, and what that meant for the future and stuff like that; and the weirdest part of all this was that she seemed fine. Aunt Diane, who had been kindof walking around, but not really pacing looked out the window and saw the ambulance and then promptly, but not hurriedly notified us of its arrival. Two paramedics came in, a rather large (in height) woman, and an avarage sized man. The woman never said much of anything, and the man had one of those voices that kindof trails the last sound of any word or sentence much longer than he should, or than is helpful.

"So, what happened here sweetie?" He said, addressing gramma Kuball. I had never herd anyone speek to any woman over 50, referring to them as "sweetie" I was a bit taken aback by his mannerisms, shall we say. Grandma Kuball told him of how she had felt a weight on her chest and then took something for it, and how (according to the protocol of the substance in question) she'd taken a secon dose 5 minutes later. Then as a last resort, she had tried to call my grandmother; but that was all she remembered before waking up and finding herself on the ground and my dad and aunt Diane at the door.

After hearing this he questioned her about her medical history, which I have redacted, with the same annoying vocal mannerisms. It might not need to be said, but I was relieved when the irksome paramedic loudly announced that he and his companion were going to retrieve the stretcher. Good, that means you're leaving! That gave us a few minutes to hear properly pronounce interogative clauses and sentences, and also for aunt Diane to help grandma Kuball get changed to go to the hospital. I'm not sure if she wanted to go or not, but I did know one thing: if she was going to the hospital; she was going in style.

While the paramedics were strapping grandma Kuball down on the stretcher, I looked over the verious photos that were displayed on the walls of her house and I found it kind of odd, the fact that there were no pictures of grandma Kuball wherein she wasn't at least 50. Oh well, she likes to be up to date on these sorts of things I guess. The paramedics left, and dad and I locked up the house. But as we were leaving the place, something in my spirit fealt troubled, and I hoped and prayed that this would not be the end of grandma Kuball. I have seen enough death in this life already, and the fact of the matter is that I would like to go a little while longer before someone I know dies again.

One thing that I'd managed to miss however, was that the paramedics had taken aunt Diane with them to the hospital. It mattered how little or much sense the fact made, we were going to have to go and get her. Honestly, I was looking forward to going to pick her up; I hadn't been to the emergency room since I busted my foot with an axe last year. The way there was a short one (as usual), but then; how long can you make a five mile cartrip? We arrived somewhere between 10-15 after we left. 

The Christmas spirit was definitely in the air, or at least that's what I think those fluffy white cotton-bally things were. All around the colored lights shown and I took note of an enormous light star atop the old smoke stack at the hospital as we drove around it to the emergency enterence. The hospital staff, I noted on entry were dressed festively in all-black coveralls and upside down grins decorated every face. The sharp contrast between the festivities outside, and those inside, was almost enough to make me light headed. Across the room from the enterence we walked toward people that my dad and grandma seemed to recognize, who were also sitting with aunt Diane.

Mrs. and Mr. Kuball greeted us warmly and we sat and talked for a while. The conversation went the usual way and included, but was not limited to things like; how I liked the weather, if I liked being back, "Wow you're so tall!", and a lot of stuff related to Africa. 

Before we'd left the house to go to the hospital, I had posted an urgent prayer request in the family forum and so I decided to update that with new information that I had picked up about grandma Kuball's case, notifying them that all was for the time being well. I had just finished typing that up and posting it when my cousin, Kim, messaged me; thanking me for a birthday card I'd sent her. My location services must have been activated because before I had a chance to write "You're welcome.", she had already asked,

"Why are you in St. Joseph?"

"Because I live here?"

"Oh I thought you were in Africa."

"I was, but I'm staying with grandma now." With typing that came yet another reminder of what I'd left behind.

"Oh ok cool" 

I sat quietly for the rest of the time that we spent at the hospital. But on the drive home, after we'd arrived, and far into the evening, one thought continuously passed through my head. Imagine what would have happened if you'd gone to the reunion to day. And over the days since then, I've come to accept that it was no accident that the family opted to reschedule. It was by design.

The Beginning of The End.

I'm sure that by the end of this new chapter of my life, I will have told this story several different ways. But now I'm going to write my diffinetive version of this story.

It began with a check-in trip to Maun. In the temporary absence of the Veiths my dad, Matt, Katherine and I went to Maun to check in on their home. Just to be sure that none of their possessions had been sullied and stuff like that. Katherine brought some of her school work with her, and Matt.... I'm not really sure what he was there for. As for me, I was there (mostly) to here the news from the immergration Exorcist, as soon as possible. 

We arrived at the house about 9:39ish. Matt and I had a good time, we would watch funny YouTube videos, and Katherine would shush us— good fun. Good fun. 

After a while we all got hungry. Now, that house had been empty for quite a while, so if there was any food in the house; we didn't know where it might possibly be. Since Matt and I were just being annoying, she decided (with a huff) to go and look around for food.

It wasn't long until I heard "Chrrrrriiiiiiiissssssss!!!!!!!" come from the kitchen, which happened to be right over my left shoulder.

"Where is every thing!? All I can find is spices!" 

I'll admit it, I was puzzled. The only things in their cupboards, which were full, were either, dishes or spices which weren't  edible... By themselves anyway. I was stumped. It was then that I remembered just how diminutive Mrs. Veith is, about 5'6. In the lower cupboard (benithe the counter) we found an unopened bag of baguette chips, and we found some cottage cheese that was sour enough to act as sour cream in the fridge.

In those brief happy moments, we reflected on the awesomeness of teenage ingenuity. After that we reflected on how stupid we sounded for reflecting on such things (that actually might have been just me).

While eating Kathy and Matt and I talked about feinging starvation, which we decided to call off due to several extremely unconvincing test runs. What can I say? We're high energy kids that have never had acting lessons.

Any way eventually dad returned as usual, and we went out to lunch. Hilary's is probably the best place in Botswana to brief people, with it calming atmosphere, and peaceful air— not to mention its FREAKING AWESOME FOOD. Hilary's is the only 100% organic resteraunt in Botswana. As we sat down and ordered my dad's cool demeanor would have never given me any reason to suspect what was to come.

I was either going to have to scramble to get all the paper work we needed together so that I could apply for a permit, which may not have gone through any way,

 

Or return to the US.

The Road Is Never Predictable.

It's been a while. That's just kind of the nature of things at this point. I have been putting off writing this post and the ones that will follow for security reasons. I think that the time of danger may be over, it is time to begin disclosing. 

Where have I been? I returned to the US.

I have retired from MK service. I am no longer in Botswana, and in all probability; I will never return there. I'm sorry Bole; you had your chance. Don't come back.

To the rest of my family, I'm sorry. I miss you all dearly. What has come to pass cannot be changed, all we can effect is the future. I can't wait to see you again. :)

Note to self: 77526

Never begin a humorous story with the phrase, "Oh my gosh this is so funny!!!", or anything to the same affect. 

Nov. 25/13

My worst fears came to life, not two days after my 18 birthday, I have to leave home. Though it happened in a way I didn't expect. I chose it. I asked to be sent away rather than to scramble to try to produce the necessary paperwork which would have been late as is. Yesterday evening, as I sat eating my dinner, I realized something, that had been persuing me for a long time, but now I know why.

A while ago, my dad was in the running for a prestigious position, that would require us to move back to the U.S. When I heard about it, I fealt a little tug in my heart. So I encouraged, and even pushed my dad to apply for the position. And he did.

His interview came and went. And the feeling was growing within me. A month passed before we heard anything more. The interviewer called back. He said that he didn't usually let people know when they were out of the running, but that he fealt led to.

Even with that news, the feeling in my heart went undampend. A feeling that wether my dad got the position or not, it was going to impact our family in some huge and unknown way. 

I heard my dad say, last night; that they were selecting the person that would be put in that position. So in a way, I was right. Not in the way I thought I would be, and not in a way that I could have predicted. I'm sad that I have to leave Africa, but it's the right thing to do.

My brothers took the news the worst. I'm sorry for that. If it happens that I don't see you again, please know this: there is no place, rich or poor; no where in all of creation, where I would rather be than with you. I'm sorry for this. It was the right thing to do.