Again we meet at the little table by the window opened onto the playground of the condominio. Kids, roast, mashed potatoes and gravy, raisin bars, a Sunday afternoon nap. Same old, same old? Not hardly. One difference: I've been in bed three of the last four days with a bad cough, headache, sore throat, etc. It's better but not completely gone today. We missed our stake conference and a day at the office and are both suffering cabin fever. A sick missionary is a miserable missionary. We want to work. As tiring as it is it's a whole lot better than lying around all day. At home I would have enjoyed that kind of break.
Elder and Sister Dorius, the “other couple” from the office came by to visit yesterday to check on me and bring some meds for me to deliver to a missionary in our sister ward. They are now the mission medics and we learned more than we needed to know about confidential medical problems missionaries are having. I won't repeat them. I guess it is kind of like the new bishop learning more than he could ever imagine about his ward members and needing someone to talk to. I'll serve the purpose if necessary. We all have our problems, don't we? It was a nice, friendly, cookies and punch visit.
We learned that we do indeed have the nicest apartment and furnishings of anyone in the mission except the pres. He didn't expect two couples and gave us all the stuff before he knew the Dorius's were coming. They don't like their apartment and have found another one on their own. Now what do we do? Send back half the dishes and furnishings? Probably not. They are trying not to be disappointed; this is their third mission. They were expecting to go to the Mediterranean coast of Spain and were reassigned at the last minute.
Senior missions –maybe all missions-- are full of surprises, but there just isn't any way to anticipate in advance exactly what your experiences, expenses, and excitements will be. I haven't figured up the exact cost yet but without a car it looks like our expenses are below $1000 a month, but that may go up 50% with gas, parking,, insurance, etc. On the other hand, every couple we've talked to encountered hundreds, even thousands of dollars of pre-mission expenses they neither were warned about nor expected. Some have had thousands of dollars of set up expenses; first and last month, security deposits, utilities, furniture, kitchen, linens, etc. Maybe we don't ask enough questions, maybe someone could give more information. Not complaining, just informing. Be prepared.
This week about twenty elders took a bus to some official office to take the next step in getting their visas and ID cards. They were stuck in traffic because of an accident and lost their appointment, had to stand in line for 5 ½ hours to get something stamped and have go back again next week for the next step. We were notified that our papers were received and should hear something more in about 2 months. Elder Roundy said he might be able to ask for them to be expedited.
Across the way two doves on a balcony seem to be feeding each other. They don't appear to be mother and child. Perhaps it's some mating ritual. Did you know that courting humans also have a feeding each other courting ritual? I studied it in college. No lie. It's a part of human communication. There is a bird feeder there and they have been doing this for some time, now. Just like the teenagers at the bus stop in front of McDonald’s. Another form of PDA.
Some stories this week: at the church building for branch presidency meeting I looked across the hall to see two little birds (pajaritos, the name of a major street here) flying frantically around in one of the classrooms. Someone had left the window open—they are most of the time-- and they had flown in through the bars. They must have been there a while because they left a mess all over the chair backs.
Beth asked if we would have window units for the summer. HAHAHAHAHA I've not seen such a thing in a window or a store, although the mission office has a heating/cooling unit and the mission cars have A/C. Not our apartment building and not 90% of cars and buildings. Open the windows and turn on the table fan. It hasn't been that hot yet. At a stoplight I noticed a long and high sort of run down apartment building and started counting satellite dishes hanging onto the side of the building. The light changed when I was over 30 and not half way through counting. We don't have one of those either, and really don't miss it, except when lying in bed for a while.
I do miss hearing what's going on, not so much in the national news, but in the ward, family, schools, USM, etc. We get a little through Skype but I'd like more. By the way my, fishing trip a couple of weeks ago for more mail paid off. Several Dear Elder letters appeared in our box soon after. Thanx.
West of Maipu as we go toward the coast we pass through a couple of satellite towns with lots of new subdivisions and rows and rows of brand new cookie cutter houses. The population of the city is moving to the suburbs for 1,2,3 dormitorios (bedrooms) and up to 1400 square feet. Pretty nice. Own your own home—the new Chilean dream. Then the long flat glacial valley opens into a patchwork of fields and farms, neatly cultivated, planted, and irrigated much the same as valleys of the West used to be. Canals, diversion dams, ditches, siphons, shovels, broken furrows, water reaching the ends of the rows, and flourishing orchards, vineyards, row-crops of all kinds One huge dairy farm with a thousand or more cows. Closer to the coast it gets hillier and cooler and the farms give way to cattle ranches and chicken houses between scrubby brush patches and groves of eucalyptus trees, much like between San Francisco and Garberville Calif.
Pablo (the youngest and cutest kid on the playground today) keeps doing something his mother, who is marking a stack of papers on her lap, doesn't want him to do. She repeatedly calls his name and tells him not to. . . I think it has to do with climbing with the bigger boys. An eight year old girl tentatively tries out her roller skates and a boy rides his nice new mountain bike. A couple of teenage boys play a card game of some kind with cards I don't recognize. “Pablo” Pablo” Pablo” The sun is warming me nicely now.
Most days are smoggy and you can't see far or clearly. The smog settles on everything, indoors and out. Just wipe your finger over a surface or look at your white shirt collars. BLACK Pablo's Mom is smiling, laughing and pointing at him. All is well again.
Twice in cabs this week the women cab drivers had their 5-7 year old daughters with them. One had the grandmother, too. Then pick up three to five more paying passengers, and imagine me in the back seat with my arthritic hips straddling the hump, getting in and out, hitting bottom on the bumpy roads. That's the $2 ride. For $6 and up the metered cabs don't pick up other passengers and will take you anywhere you want to go. We haven't tried the micros (buses) or the metro (the new rail system) which hasn't reached our part of town yet. We usually get the $2 collectivos unless we are desperate. We don't ride far—five miles or so.
We have high hopes of making an offer on a spiffy 1999 Subaru wagon with automatic transmission this week. Keep your fingers crossed. We'd love to ditch the cabs and have some way to haul Mom's teclados (keyboards) to places where she wants to teach. She has three students in the branch and wants to do more. I sat in on her class this week. My meeting was canceled, but I didn't get the memo. She does a neat job, notwithstanding the language barrier. There is much joy and laughter. Same for her first YW (Mujeres Jovenes) presidency meeting. They were having a ball without either side knowing what the other was really saying. I translated a few words from time to time, and my friend and other counselor, Erasmo, speaks a little English and was our go--between.
We think they assigned Mom to teach three lessons, attend dance rehearsals (we don't know when or why or what the dances are for) every Wednesday at 8:30 pm beginning in November until ? ? ? ? , and be a chaperone for an upcoming Seminary Super Saturday, and cook for a fund raising dinner for Girl's camp(think summer in December) on some date yet to be approved. We think. The swimming party is Dec 12?? at a location TBA. Her first lesson, next Sunday, is Castidad=chastity. . . .whoa!. Baptism by fire!!
Skater--girl is gaining confidence, trying to do the monkey bars on skates. Chubby daddy is playing basketball with his two year old boy and Pablo's mom has calmed down. He even goes to the other side of the playground behind her back and out of sight. The words are different but the language tunes are the same, maybe among children playing anywhere in any language. Dora just found another bug and immediately had 8 new friends. They tell me there are no mosquitoes here. I'm waiting for proof.
Spandex..there is a lot of it here, and it is working overtime.
The fashion scene in a word: tight.
Shiny. High gloss everything. Most of our churches are paved (indoors and around the outside walks) from door to door, wall to wall with high gloss white ceramic tile, and accessorized with high gloss varnished wood. While I waited for mom the custodian sister polished every pew, podium, sacrament surface, & door. She scrubbed the glass front door and its iron grill with a bucket and a rag until the glass and grill were sparkling. She mopped and polished every square of tile in every hall, room, office, gym, restroom, porch—the chapel is carpeted. Cab drivers in line waiting for a fare spend their time polishing. When I visited Chile with Kevin I was impressed with the shiny walls and ceilings and marveled at how clean the homes were. Not all of them, but shiny is the watchword.
Thirty-something dad plays with 3 year son on the equipment as mom approvingly looks from second story balcony while she gathers the air-dried laundry and folds up the rack. Neat household device, holds a whole load of clothes. If you have a dryer you stick the “tube” out the window; I haven't seen any tubes today. She leans pensively against the rail. It's a lovely day in the neighborhood. More dads and kids are coming out and people are coming from work or wherever. I don't think a lot of them went to church today. It's not a holiday.
Meat. There is a lot of it here, in open markets, but in refrigerated glass cases, beef, pork, chicken, lamb, fish. Lots of deli meat. Turkey ham, saIami, sausage, lunch meat, but I've yet to see a whole turkey. They usually don't buy that much at a time. Bread and meat for tonight. I bought what looked like bacon in a sealed plastic package at the supermarket (we haven't braved the open carnecerias (meat markets) yet, fried some with over easy eggs (send grits, they don't do corn), and sat down to a nasty surprise. I don't know what it was but it wasn't sugar cured or hickory smoked. Yeeechh. Many things fool you, looking or named like what you expect, but different enough to be disappointing. We've watched them unloading meat for the little stores. A small white truck about 6 by 10 feet stops and blocks traffic. Men get out and start carrying quarters of beef, halves of pig, stacks of whole chickens in plastic crates they slide across the road and sidewalk. It may take 10-15 minutes as drivers honk and curse and (not) take turns getting through. Life goes on.
The little “convenience store”(do not even imagine 7-Eleven) two doors right of our building is typical. Enter the door-less open front of what looks like a double garage, homemade and hand lettered, to a space about 12 by 20 surrounded by U-shaped glass counters with stuff piled in, on and behind them. But don't start shopping yet. Take a little number from the thingy you didn't notice by the door when you came in, after which six more people came in, got their number and are now ahead of you. There is no line, just milling about, but don't think you can just shop and help yourself to what you can reach. Besides, the ice cream freezer and pop coolers are padlocked. When she is done with one customer the helper behind the counter calls the next number, the customer tells his/her order which is slowly filled item by item and placed on the counter in front of you, but don't touch it yet. You haven't paid for it. Step to the left/right to the elevated, glassed in, cashier booth, and put your money and the little paper with numbers on it given you by the helper through a little hand hole in the glass. Get your change and little green/yellow/ orange receipt, go back to the helper, show it to her and she will hand you your order and say “gracias”.
If you think they made a mistake like I did last night, go back, get another number, etc. etc. They didn't make a mistake; I thought they gave me $6 too much change, but I was counting 100 peso coins the same as 1,000 peso bills. Me culpa. The money taker went on and on explaining and counting and pointing (it seems to take a very long time to say anything), finally smiled, spoke a little English and said he had worked for a while in New York. As I left, the other customers glared, but the helper sang out a perfect “good bye” and a perfect “hello” to the next customer. P.S.: the homemade bread, like four little hoagy buns, in the wooden bin from the “bakery” in the back of the garage is out of the world, with butter, turkey ham and Gouda cheese. They also do wonderful mayonesa. UMMMUMMM good. Worth the trouble.
Multiply this scene by about a thousand, throw in a few more modern—glassed-in CruzVerde (green cross) pharmacies and two three-story department stores and you have a street level view of downtown Maipu. Don't forget the hundreds of closet-sized stores in the “malls=alleys” criss-crossing the interiors of the blocks and along the necessarily wide sidewalks. I’ll make a photo panorama someday. Words don't do it justice, and it's not nasty or dirty or distasteful in any way. Everything is neat and clean, and closely guarded, but the sidewalks are all broken up. The first week I carelessly stepped into a hole where a tree used to be and stumbled three steps forward into a light-pole which I grabbed and avoided some serious plastic surgery. I saw them patching a big hole by pouring in gavel and dry cement and sprinkling it with water. No wonder it doesn't last. When it dried, the patch was about 3 inches below the rest of the sidewalk. Oh, well, good enough for who it's for.
Later: We just had five elders stop by to check on me, no not to get fed, but they did. We've found a cure for leftovers. They ate up all our mashed potatoes and gravy with a little taste of roast beef. Elder Acosta from Uruguay had never had gravy before—he loved it and had seconds-- and some had not had it in over a year. Imagine. I make it every Sun. You too? Got to go to bed. End of travelogue.
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It's Tuesday pm. We're worn out, but I want to get this sent. We came back to work yesterday. Today from 8am to 6pm we were at a zone conference. Same thing tomorrow and Thursday. It was nice, but too long for old people. We had our friend Elder Callis translating for us today; not tomorrow or Thurs. BJ had “choir practice” afterwards. The music was gorgeous and her animated performance more than compensated for her lack of Spanish. It was wonderful! They sang their hearts out. I don't think they get many opportunities like this. We have one rehearsal with 1/3 of the missionaries each day. About 40 stayed late today to be in the choir. If the other zones do as well she'll have a mini MoTab on her hands. They will not all sing together until the performance Dec 23. Just like the temple dedication choirs.
We didn't go to church or visit any families or do any “Real” missionary work this week. That doesnt mean we did nothing or are disappointed. Hardly. More and more it appears that our mission is to the missionaries. They seem to need some grandparenting and we love doing it. Sister King says she thinks this is why we are here. It's OK by us. These people are awesome. Already we miss the ones going home next week. The Latina Hermanas love BJ, but none of them speak English. They mostly have Latina companions. There are some cuties. I think some of the elders have noticed that, too.
I want to tell you more about our reading aloud experience with the Book of Mormon. Joseph Smith did not write that book. I hear the difference in the language of Nephi, Jacob, Isaiah, etc. Sorry, got to go. Mom is exhausted.
LUV TO ALL
MOM AND DAD.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
October 20, 2010
Sunday evening at the apartment, following a nice Sunday afternoon nap. I have set up my computer by an open window looking out at the playground, where for two days solid the kids of the condominium have been playing their hearts out. After a couple of cold cloudy days, the sun came out and so did the kids. Still snow on the mountain tops, but slowly receding. Thursday and Friday were sweater days, two sweaters in fact in the mornings, but today is like early summer. A two year old girl tight rope walks along the little parapet around the playground, shepherded by her grandparents; half a dozen young parents in a cluster on the park benches; lots of colorful clothes drying on racks on the balconies opposite me; an orange parasol stuck in a flowerpot; an arrangement of sunflowers in an open laundry room window. The jungle gyms are yellow and green, the teeter-totters green and red, the slides blue, sturdy, newly painted, but not OSHA approved. There are exposed bolts and concrete underneath and curbs with sharp corners. But no accidents to date and one of the nicest I've seen in this town. Lots of couples, parents, kids out tonight. Almost dark now.
A door opens on the second floor and I get a brief uninvited peek on the neighbors' living room. The apartments are all basically the same arrangement, some a little larger than others. We've only met and talked with one neighbor. We've spoken to her a few times. She explained that she is moving Nov 1 and needs to rent her place out. She wondered if the church would be interested. Not.
Dora just walked by with her friend Diego. She was out here all day yesterday. She was catching bugs to show to the boys and drawing an appreciative crowd. I was in and out shaking rugs and dropping garbage down the chute and taking cardboard down to the parking garage to be recycled. Two little girls ran and hid from me this morning when I stepped out in my suit and tie. This is a very pleasant little cosmos. BJ is in the “living/dining room” playing the keyboard set up on the dining table.
Beg your pardon, we did meet another neighbor the other night. Wednesday is the maid's day to come. She was late and we were already walking down the street when she got off her cross-town bus, so we just handed her our key and went on our way. She usually comes by the office and cleans and we assumed she would bring our key, but no. So we assumed she left it at the front desk with the concierce, but no. So we hoped she had left it with the elders upstairs who also have her clean, but no. She didn't answer our frantic fone calls. The concierce called a woman who had lived in Australia and speaks English to help us break in. She brought plastic, knives, cards. But no. We thought we were going to sleep on the park benches. Finally she found our bedroom window unlatched (us or the maid, who knows?) and Elder Acosta jumped through, opened the door, and there was the key on the dining room table. The woman scolded us for not having a spare and forbade me climbing through the window-- “too old and fat” she said. Next day we got two duplicates made. We also latched the window. People are helpful and unabashed. For their trouble we fed the elders a whole loaf of french toast. Had to make Mapeline syrup—can't find any more Great Value.
Turns out she studied with the missionaries in Australia, attended church every week and was about to be baptized when they informed her that to do so she would have to marry her partner or he would have to move out. They didn't or couldn't or whatever. She called it a very bad experience and didn't want us to send the missionaries again. This all too common dilemma is gently referred to as “the paper problem”. It's really more than that in eyes of the Lord, but socially, it's no big deal until something like this arises. It is a real test of faith. Will you obey God's commandments?
My test of faith was this morning at church. I knew I had to conduct and was pretty well prepared with a script prepared with the help of Erasmo, the first counselor, and rehearsed until I could say it pretty smoothly. There are always changes, unexpected turns, curve balls—it's called life, eh ? So we took our cab to church, arrived early, brushed up on my deacon's lesson, and I went into priesthood meeting, to hear the Elders' Quorum Pres say in perfect English: “you have to conduct in here too.” The Branch Pres was not there yet, so I improvised until he got there. We sang, prayed and had announcements, then went to quorums. The lesson went pretty smoothly. I had an internet copy in English side by side with the Spanish manual, had marked and chosen and written on both, and used all my life's teaching experience to get through it. The two boys were very cooperative and helpful. It turned out to be a pleasant experience, which I hope will be repeated every week. Our first Sunday here Helaman was ordained a deacon and passed me the sacrament. I have affectionately called him “mi deacono”. He looks me in the eye and smiles when he brings me the sacrament.
Sacrament meeting went smoothly until they changed the speakers on me three times, and said if there is time, Brother Jorge, the high counselor, will also speak. This wasn't in my script. Again, I was flying by the seat of my pants. No more grammatically correct complete sentences, rehearsed and polished. I'm not sure just what I said, but some people said I did all right, and our friend Pablo was giving me thumbs up, so I guess it was passable. Now I just hope they don't think that I really can speak Spanish. I also assisted (silently, thank Heaven) in setting apart two of the people we sustained. It was a pretty awesome day, but totally exhausting. I didn't know you could get so tired by listening and speaking for a few hours. Mom didn't have to teach today.
It's usually the twelve hour days that exhaust us. It's not every day, but we manage to stay tired pretty much every night and morning. Yesterday was p-day and we stayed home all day and took it easy. Elder Holland promised us at the MTC that this would be HARD!! and he never lies. It is mentally, spiritually, physically, faithfully, HARD. But worth it. It is unlike anything we've ever done. Delores was right when she said there was no way you could imagine what a mission is like until you do it, and I am sure every mission and every person is a different experience. One elder we've grown to love confided that he is having a very hard time and is ready to go home, with 5 months to go. I don't think he will, and we will do all we can to keep him afloat. He is a great kid, but has been sick, losing weight, in a tough area with a “different” companion, and says change is really hard for him. He worked in the office for 9 ½ months. We love him and want him to go home with honor. He deserves it. Mom put a sweet note in his mail pouch this week.
Some grandparents are climbing the four flights of stairs across the way to their kids(?) apartment. It is totally dark and the playground is empty. A while ago a little girl caught my eye, lingered, and waved a shy little wave. I guess they are not all afraid, but we have to be especially careful around kids. We're foreigners and old and unknown, and who knows what kind of people we are.
I got my first Chilean haircut the other day. If I haven't made the point, I'll say it again. Everything is a little different here—almost but not quite the same. The open air shop had 6 barbers and a dozen other people, kids, etc. I walked up to Mary, 8 ½ months pregnant and indicated I wanted a haircut. She reminded me I had to take a number, pay, and wait. I paid and she motioned me to come on. To my left was a mother holding her little boy while he got a haircut. Nothing unusual except that she was nursing him in full view. When the barber needed to get to the other side of his head, Mom just changed sides and rolled him over. Clever way to keep the boy still for the barber, eh? For $4 I got a good haircut and free entertainment. The one thing I wondered about is if they ever sterilize their razors, clippers, etc. I saw no evidence, but have no new rashes.
We attended our first missionary meeting Friday. It was for greenies who have been here about as long as we have. It was in Spanish, but they translated for us and a few others including Sister King. It was about faith, and was a good uplift. We needed it. We take the pouch on zone meeting days and never get to attend. Afterwards we had the most delicious roast pork dinner with mushroom gravy over real mashed potatoes and crepes for desert. It was out of the world. Mom sat by a beautiful Peruvian sister missionary and talked Spanglish all hour long. We later heard that she told the office elders she was jealous of them because they lived in our building, and that she wanted to take Mom home with her.
Today we had grandma's roast and rice and gravy with Betty Crocker Devil's Food Cake and homemade icing. The elder's are coming for a piece of cake in a bit, so I'm going to go now.
Now it's Tuesday pm and we are slam worn out, but we will add a little to this and try to Skype a bit.
Now it's Wednesday 5 pm and we are ready to go home. I have a headache and sore throat. Last night we Skyped a little. Loved it. Sorry if we missed you. Today we may have solved the internet, car and insurance buying dilemma. We can't sign any contracts without our CARNET ID cards, which we won't get for another two months, but our dear friend and benefactor, Andres Toledo has gone to bat for us again and says he can get all this done on his ID number until we get our own. We are going Friday to look at an old Subaru in our price range. The church Toyota didn't fit our budget and timetable.
Yesterday we stopped at a roadside market and bought fruit and veggies: bananas, strawberries, oranges, potatoes, tomatoes---about 25 pounds—for under $5 US. Next time I'll describe the trip from here to the coast. We have the pouch routes pretty well learned now, so the Pres has added to our responsibilities. We now process all the referrals, and I control the scheduling and use of the cars. (there has been no scheduling or control of the cars before now) Sister King just came in and asked if she could use the van for a couple of days. I felt like the father of teenagers again.
Last Friday we stayed late at the office Skyping. We were just locking the building about 10 pm when our phone rang. It was the assistants asking where we were. We told them and they said stay right there; we will pick you up in two minutes and take you home. That has never happened before. After we got home and thought about it we wondered what danger the Lord saw in our path and inspired the elders to call. Guess we'll never know, but we thanked Him for his tender mercies.
We love you all dearly. Thanks for your prayers. Maybe it was your little prayer that kept us from harm. We ever pray for you, too. God bless us every one.
Hugs and kisses,
MOMANDDAD
A door opens on the second floor and I get a brief uninvited peek on the neighbors' living room. The apartments are all basically the same arrangement, some a little larger than others. We've only met and talked with one neighbor. We've spoken to her a few times. She explained that she is moving Nov 1 and needs to rent her place out. She wondered if the church would be interested. Not.
Dora just walked by with her friend Diego. She was out here all day yesterday. She was catching bugs to show to the boys and drawing an appreciative crowd. I was in and out shaking rugs and dropping garbage down the chute and taking cardboard down to the parking garage to be recycled. Two little girls ran and hid from me this morning when I stepped out in my suit and tie. This is a very pleasant little cosmos. BJ is in the “living/dining room” playing the keyboard set up on the dining table.
Beg your pardon, we did meet another neighbor the other night. Wednesday is the maid's day to come. She was late and we were already walking down the street when she got off her cross-town bus, so we just handed her our key and went on our way. She usually comes by the office and cleans and we assumed she would bring our key, but no. So we assumed she left it at the front desk with the concierce, but no. So we hoped she had left it with the elders upstairs who also have her clean, but no. She didn't answer our frantic fone calls. The concierce called a woman who had lived in Australia and speaks English to help us break in. She brought plastic, knives, cards. But no. We thought we were going to sleep on the park benches. Finally she found our bedroom window unlatched (us or the maid, who knows?) and Elder Acosta jumped through, opened the door, and there was the key on the dining room table. The woman scolded us for not having a spare and forbade me climbing through the window-- “too old and fat” she said. Next day we got two duplicates made. We also latched the window. People are helpful and unabashed. For their trouble we fed the elders a whole loaf of french toast. Had to make Mapeline syrup—can't find any more Great Value.
Turns out she studied with the missionaries in Australia, attended church every week and was about to be baptized when they informed her that to do so she would have to marry her partner or he would have to move out. They didn't or couldn't or whatever. She called it a very bad experience and didn't want us to send the missionaries again. This all too common dilemma is gently referred to as “the paper problem”. It's really more than that in eyes of the Lord, but socially, it's no big deal until something like this arises. It is a real test of faith. Will you obey God's commandments?
My test of faith was this morning at church. I knew I had to conduct and was pretty well prepared with a script prepared with the help of Erasmo, the first counselor, and rehearsed until I could say it pretty smoothly. There are always changes, unexpected turns, curve balls—it's called life, eh ? So we took our cab to church, arrived early, brushed up on my deacon's lesson, and I went into priesthood meeting, to hear the Elders' Quorum Pres say in perfect English: “you have to conduct in here too.” The Branch Pres was not there yet, so I improvised until he got there. We sang, prayed and had announcements, then went to quorums. The lesson went pretty smoothly. I had an internet copy in English side by side with the Spanish manual, had marked and chosen and written on both, and used all my life's teaching experience to get through it. The two boys were very cooperative and helpful. It turned out to be a pleasant experience, which I hope will be repeated every week. Our first Sunday here Helaman was ordained a deacon and passed me the sacrament. I have affectionately called him “mi deacono”. He looks me in the eye and smiles when he brings me the sacrament.
Sacrament meeting went smoothly until they changed the speakers on me three times, and said if there is time, Brother Jorge, the high counselor, will also speak. This wasn't in my script. Again, I was flying by the seat of my pants. No more grammatically correct complete sentences, rehearsed and polished. I'm not sure just what I said, but some people said I did all right, and our friend Pablo was giving me thumbs up, so I guess it was passable. Now I just hope they don't think that I really can speak Spanish. I also assisted (silently, thank Heaven) in setting apart two of the people we sustained. It was a pretty awesome day, but totally exhausting. I didn't know you could get so tired by listening and speaking for a few hours. Mom didn't have to teach today.
It's usually the twelve hour days that exhaust us. It's not every day, but we manage to stay tired pretty much every night and morning. Yesterday was p-day and we stayed home all day and took it easy. Elder Holland promised us at the MTC that this would be HARD!! and he never lies. It is mentally, spiritually, physically, faithfully, HARD. But worth it. It is unlike anything we've ever done. Delores was right when she said there was no way you could imagine what a mission is like until you do it, and I am sure every mission and every person is a different experience. One elder we've grown to love confided that he is having a very hard time and is ready to go home, with 5 months to go. I don't think he will, and we will do all we can to keep him afloat. He is a great kid, but has been sick, losing weight, in a tough area with a “different” companion, and says change is really hard for him. He worked in the office for 9 ½ months. We love him and want him to go home with honor. He deserves it. Mom put a sweet note in his mail pouch this week.
Some grandparents are climbing the four flights of stairs across the way to their kids(?) apartment. It is totally dark and the playground is empty. A while ago a little girl caught my eye, lingered, and waved a shy little wave. I guess they are not all afraid, but we have to be especially careful around kids. We're foreigners and old and unknown, and who knows what kind of people we are.
I got my first Chilean haircut the other day. If I haven't made the point, I'll say it again. Everything is a little different here—almost but not quite the same. The open air shop had 6 barbers and a dozen other people, kids, etc. I walked up to Mary, 8 ½ months pregnant and indicated I wanted a haircut. She reminded me I had to take a number, pay, and wait. I paid and she motioned me to come on. To my left was a mother holding her little boy while he got a haircut. Nothing unusual except that she was nursing him in full view. When the barber needed to get to the other side of his head, Mom just changed sides and rolled him over. Clever way to keep the boy still for the barber, eh? For $4 I got a good haircut and free entertainment. The one thing I wondered about is if they ever sterilize their razors, clippers, etc. I saw no evidence, but have no new rashes.
We attended our first missionary meeting Friday. It was for greenies who have been here about as long as we have. It was in Spanish, but they translated for us and a few others including Sister King. It was about faith, and was a good uplift. We needed it. We take the pouch on zone meeting days and never get to attend. Afterwards we had the most delicious roast pork dinner with mushroom gravy over real mashed potatoes and crepes for desert. It was out of the world. Mom sat by a beautiful Peruvian sister missionary and talked Spanglish all hour long. We later heard that she told the office elders she was jealous of them because they lived in our building, and that she wanted to take Mom home with her.
Today we had grandma's roast and rice and gravy with Betty Crocker Devil's Food Cake and homemade icing. The elder's are coming for a piece of cake in a bit, so I'm going to go now.
Now it's Tuesday pm and we are slam worn out, but we will add a little to this and try to Skype a bit.
Now it's Wednesday 5 pm and we are ready to go home. I have a headache and sore throat. Last night we Skyped a little. Loved it. Sorry if we missed you. Today we may have solved the internet, car and insurance buying dilemma. We can't sign any contracts without our CARNET ID cards, which we won't get for another two months, but our dear friend and benefactor, Andres Toledo has gone to bat for us again and says he can get all this done on his ID number until we get our own. We are going Friday to look at an old Subaru in our price range. The church Toyota didn't fit our budget and timetable.
Yesterday we stopped at a roadside market and bought fruit and veggies: bananas, strawberries, oranges, potatoes, tomatoes---about 25 pounds—for under $5 US. Next time I'll describe the trip from here to the coast. We have the pouch routes pretty well learned now, so the Pres has added to our responsibilities. We now process all the referrals, and I control the scheduling and use of the cars. (there has been no scheduling or control of the cars before now) Sister King just came in and asked if she could use the van for a couple of days. I felt like the father of teenagers again.
Last Friday we stayed late at the office Skyping. We were just locking the building about 10 pm when our phone rang. It was the assistants asking where we were. We told them and they said stay right there; we will pick you up in two minutes and take you home. That has never happened before. After we got home and thought about it we wondered what danger the Lord saw in our path and inspired the elders to call. Guess we'll never know, but we thanked Him for his tender mercies.
We love you all dearly. Thanks for your prayers. Maybe it was your little prayer that kept us from harm. We ever pray for you, too. God bless us every one.
Hugs and kisses,
MOMANDDAD
Monday, October 11, 2010
October 11, 2010
We saw the most beautiful part of our mission on Tuesday. We took the pouch to the coast, but they were having an area wide tsunami drill and the elders couldn’t have their zone meeting, so we had to take it to their apartment in El Quisco about 30 miles up the coast. It was a series of quaint little towns on the hills above the ocean. Now and then there were beautiful beaches alternating with rocky outcroppings just like our Northern California home. The trees are different, but the vista is breathtaking. No, I didn’t have my camera, but be sure, we will go back on a p-day and do some exploring and take many fotos. It was obviously a vacation destination; there were cabins for rent, a couple of high rise condos, nice shops. We didn’t even mind getting a little lost and going a couple of miles too far before asking directions.
On the way we saw a man on a bike way out in the country carrying several long boards like 1 x 6 or so and 8-10 feet long. He balanced them, himself, and the bike and rode along the freeway without a care. I couldn’t see where he might have gotten them or where he might be going. The crops are springing up and the orchards and groves have changed from carpets of pink and white to new green. Strawberries will hit the market in a week or so. We also saw two men cutting tall grass along the right of way. One swung a scythe and the other picked up the grass and piled it onto a small pickup. We’re guessing they were getting some free hay for their livestock. In San Antonio the tsunami drill was just ending as we drove into town. All the downtown had been evacuated up the hill and the people were coming back down in a solid mass from sidewalk to sidewalk for blocks on every street. We couldn’t get through to the chapel and had to go around another way.
We didn’t have time to buy, but we saw tomatoes 4# for $2 and bananas 8# for $2. They’ll probably be cheaper next time. We pay about 50% more than that in the store; haven’t bought any from vegetable and fruit vendors on the street, yet. Fresh Asparagus is $2 a kilo, about $1 a pound. Yards have citrus trees and every meal is served with fresh lemons. I saw a women squeeze several lemons on her salad. I ate an artichoke with lemon/oil to dip it in. I tried zuchinni with melted cheese, but didn’t like it. We love the fresh oranges. We cut several into smiley wedges for our lunch. The orange trees are blooming again although they still have fruit on them. We get a sniff of orange blossoms as we walk to and from the office.
I drove the route both days with only one real lost episode, easily corrected by the elder who rode shotgun. We will soon be able to drive the whole thing by ourselves. We use the mission’s Kia van for now. When we get a car we will use it.
Tonite we saw a fancy red horse drawn cart with a young driver in some kind of dressy clothes on our way from the office. The other day we saw a horse cart in the city part of the city. One guy had a little tiny car pulling his old cart. There are old men who collect cardboard in little bicycle carts. I can’t imagine that they make more than pennies a day. I saw our second homeless street beggar the other day and a woman tried to sell us bandaids by laying them on our table at KFC and coming back a few minutes later to collect.
The other day we saw a bus hit a delivery van and roll it onto its side in slow motion. In a few minutes four men climbed out of the truck apparently unharmed. A man got hold of the back corner of the van and started to lift it. It looked like he was going to do it! Then a few others joined him and quickly righted the truck with no great damage. It was obviously the van driver’s fault, which impression was reinforced by the fact that he didn’t jump out and curse the bus driver. The people all got off the bus and ran to catch another one. We turned around because they would be blocking the intersection for hours while the police sorted it out and did all the paperwork. They love paperwork. You think our government requires a lot, you ain’t seen nothin. You get a little colored receipt for EVERYTHING.
I’ve been watching the car models and I don’t see any Chrysler products. ‘Splain it to me. There are Peugeots, Renaults, and Citreons from France, lots of Toyotas and Nissans (nearly all the Taxis are these), Kias, Suzukis, Mercedes Benz buses and trucks, but not many sedans in this part of town. A very few little Fords and lots of little Chevy models we don’t have in the US. I haven’t seen any brands I don’t recognize; do they not have an auto industry? I don’t know what the rich people on the east side drive, but in Maipu there’s nothing bigger than a Corolla.
By the way, for those who are asking, Maipu is the name of our town. Nearby is the Maipo River which comes from Canyon de Maipo, a tourist attraction we haven’t seen yet. I don’t know how the spelling got changed but our grandchildren love to laugh at it. It is the site of the last battle for independence from the Spanish two hundred years ago. Now it is just a part of Santiago and the home of a very tall “Temple de Maipu” commemorating the victory. It towers over the town as we walk about our business. I don’t know what they use it for.
Also, FYI, our correct mailing address is :
Elder Blair and/or Hermana Betty Jane Pack
Chile Santiago West Mission
Casilla de Correo 149
Chacabuco 166
Maipu
Chile
This will work for letters (about $1) or packages ( $40 to $100 or more). We’d be happy with just a letter. I think we gave out the wrong address, because we haven’t received a letter since we left the States (hint, hint). Or you can send a single sheet folded into three panels and taped at the top only (no envelopes) or postcards (current US rates ) to:
Elder Blair and/or Hermana Betty Jane Pack
Chile Santiago West Mission (pouch mail)
POB 30150
Salt Lake City UT 84130-0150
USA
Sorry for the confusion. Hope this solves the problem.
One of the tricks missionaries use to avoid theft is to have their families put stickers of Jesus and the BVM (Blessed Virgin Mary) on the package to deter the religious or superstitious. Or you could write: If you steal this stuff God will smite you dead and you will go to Hell, or a variation of same. We handle all the packages and letters that are sent by USPS and in 6 weeks have not heard of a single problem with theft or customs, and most of them don’t bother with stickers, but if you are superstitious, go right ahead. The “Christian” bookstores or Sacred Heart School should have some. Ask a Catholic.
Yesterday there were 9 big parcels that required to be picked up in the mission truck; today just three small ones that fit in our shopping bag. Each day a dozen or so letters from home. Doesn’t seem like enough for 166 missionaries. We hear that some missionaries NEVER get a letter from anyone. That should be a capital crime. We don’t know who they are or they would get cookies. We can’t keep track of every letter and missionary.
Speaking of dogs, they are everywhere; in the houses, in the yards, in the streets, in the stores, in McDonalds. They love their dogs. The fleas seem to attract dogs, too. Did I tell these stories already? Sorry.
OK. . . Something spiritual. Conference was wonderful. The Pres said we should watch it in our native languages so we did. We heard with new ears, but could hear it better on Sunday when we were alone in the office watching it on the internet. Saturday in a small room full of elders, was too much of a Gringo Party. A Chilean man who speaks excellent English and taught at the Provo MTC joined the Gringos because, he said, he likes to hear it untranslated. There is always something lost in translation. Especially when we are translating.
In priesthood meeting Pres. Uchtdorf “translated” President Benson’s 1989(?) classic talk on pride, clarifying the difference between being proud of someone’s accomplishments or the good works of the church with being prideful, the universal sin. He said what I have thought, that church members misunderstood Pres Benson and made “pride and proud” dirty words not to be used by decent people. I appreciated the clarification of one prophet‘s words by another prophet. Is there anything Joseph Smith or Brigham Young or Isaiah said that has been or needs to be clarified by living prophets? Stay tuned.
We especially loved Pres Uchtdorf and Pres Eyring, and Pres Monson, and Elder Holland, and Elder Packer, and Elder Ballard, and the other Apostles and Seventies, and the prayers with different worldwide accents, and delightful Elder Gerrit Gong. We hope they let him speak again even though he is “just a Seventy”. Maybe someday he’ll be an apostle; I’ll raise my hand high. Our favorite sessions were the ones on Saturday and Sunday. We could go on and on.
It’s different when you’re not wearing pjs, right Emily? She always dresses for conference and prefers to go to the church to watch. I doubt she has missed more than two conference sessions since she was a teenager. Keep it up Girl!! And a challenge to the rest of us? Will you take the challenge?
Another spiritual gift is from our current reading of the Book of Mormon. We have been challenged to read it again in 85 days (the time it took Joseph to finish the translation). We are having a mission Christmas celebration on Dec 23, Joseph’s birthday, 85 days from the challenge, with a special testimony meeting. We are to read it in our own language and mark the words of and references to The Savior in one color and gospel principles in another. Since our only English copies are already marked up we are doing it a little differently. OK?
We are reading it aloud to each other in dramatic fashion, trying to take on the persona of the writers and “speak” it ; then we stop frequently and “liken it unto ourselves.” We watch for the Savior’s words and names. It’s fun, and again we are hearing it with new ears—missionary ears—and we are teaching each other. We’ve never done this before and I’m learning a lot from Mom. It’s a real feast.
Por ejemplo, one of my favorite verses of scripture for years has been “and my father dwelt in a tent”. We have talked at length about Lehi’s faith and sacrifice, and every time Nephi refers to the tent, we stop and talk again, comparing their total sacrifice to our small one and taking caution from Laman and Lemuel and other murmurers. Murmf,mrumdmmkurmmffer.... So stop already your murmuring. We’re trying to. We’ve got it pretty good haven’t we?
We have also enjoyed going “UP” to Jerusalem and “DOWN” to the wilderness or Ishmael’s house, etc. Mom and I (and stowaway Amanda) went up to Jerusalem in 1976 and we recall the topography. From everywhere, you go up to Jerusalem and down to elsewhere. How did young Joseph Smith know that? And how did Nephi know that Mary was a Virgin? He could see that she was fair and beautiful and young, but he didn’t grow up with her and know her character. He saw and knew by the spirit just as we can and must. You can see the creator by observing his creations, but you can only know the Savior by revelation.
I know that the Lord will help us to know whatever we need and want to know. If we don’t want to or try to we’ll never know. But if we really want to and really try and are patient and never give up, we’ll know for ourselves as certainly as if He had spoken it in our ears. Every person can know the truths of eternity. Another of my favorites is Nephi’s confession that “I know that God loves his children, but I do not know the meaning of all things.” Neither do I. Yet. But we will someday, and in the meantime, it is enough to know that our Father loves us. Every one of us. Each of US. He knows YOU. We are his children. He knows all things and he loves his children. That’s enough for me.
We are going to bear our testimonies two or three times this weekend. Once in fast and testimony meeting in the branch and once Saturday night when we go with Pres Cerda (not cerdo=pig) to visit two inactive priesthood holding families he has assigned to us. The topic of branch presidency meeting this week was how to fill a dozen callings with 5 or 6 active men. The faithful women outnumber the men by two to one and there are men who come but don’t serve. The obvious answer is to get more active priesthood holders. How? Reactivate or baptize. The missionaries baptize. We’ll work on the ones already baptized, the menos activos.
In my halting, word at a time, Spanish I told the presidency the story of my father being reactivated by Bishop Arch McKinnon who wouldn’t take no for an answer. “This call is not from me and my counselors, Phil, it is from the Lord. Will you do it?” The first time my dad said “no,” after 10 years of inactivity, but they came back and asked again. His heart was softened and he said “yes”. From that day on my father was on the stand as the ward clerk and participated in every bishopric meeting and weekly bishopric temple session. I was about twelve years old. His answer changed my future and yours too.
He bought a little typewriter and brought his clerk work home and hunted and pecked on that little Smith Corona portable almost every night. (Who has that precious typewriter now? It may be in my barn. Will someone look for it? ) He served as clerk in four wards for almost 40 years. When he died he was clerk of two wards at once--his own and the ward at the nursing home in his stake. One in the morning and one in the afternoon.
I am and my posterity should be forever grateful. When Bishop McKinnon died I cried like he was my grandfather. His son became my best friend and was best man at our wedding. I am the oldest of four returned missionaries who were all married in the temple and have faithful children and grandchildren. What if Bishop McKinnon had not come back and asked a second time? I dread the thought.
I understand Lehi’s fear for Laman and Lemuel’s souls. The future turns on very small hinges. Hold fast to that iron rod, PLEASE, for your own sakes and mine and moms and your children and your children’s children.
I hope my grandkids hear and reread this story several times during our mission.
These two families in the Las Lomas Branch may be the primary reason BJ and BP are in Chile. The pouch and the piano may be sidelines to the most important work of our calling. I look forward to meeting them tomorrow night. Pres King said today, “Just bear your testimonies and tell them the gospel blesses families.” We can do that.
I’ll get back to the rest of the story before I send this very long email.
Sat 9:30 pm for a few minutes.
We have seen another side of life you probably can’t imagine and I can’t adequately describe. We spent p-day at one of the nice big malls in Santiago shopping for an outfit for Mom and some kitchen and bath accessories in pretty colors to coordinate with what we already have. We ate at Burger King and sat watching well dressed, well behaved families by the hundreds enjoying their Saturday afternoon. Then we caught a cab to our branch to meet our two families. Pablo, the Elder’s Q pres who learned to speak fairly good English on his mission two years ago, met us and took us walking through the branch, up a long hill, with a beautiful view of the city, and into a neighborhood such as we don’t have in Hattiesburg, even in our poorest parts of town. It would all be condemned and torn down where you live.
The two families are wonderful, sweet, kind, generous people, and not really inactive, just not fully active, but solidly in the church. The Sala family (when the inlaws are living in the house) or Bizama family (when they are living in Talca, down the country where the earthquake was) is a multigenerational fluid family of from 4 to 10 people, including three sisters, their parents (sometimes), two priesthood holders (sometimes) and children and a husband or two. We didn’t meet them all. Cutest kids you can imagine, from 9 months to 8 years. Papa showed us photos on the 40” flat screen Sony TV from his digital camera and they gave us gifts of home canned peaches (duraznos) and frozen raspberries (frambuesas) that I am going to try in a few minutes. They are as good as gold and 8 year old Catalina wants to take piano. They speak NO English, but we managed a long and pleasant conversation.
The Familia Henrriquez is Alexis, an RM to Columbia, his wife Aracelly, members of 7 and 8 years who met after his mission and were married in the temple last year, and their 3 week old Ignacio. They speak a little English—Pablo helped translate. We had a wonderful conversation while she nursed the baby twice. They taught us about “Messenger” a Skype-like free internet communication program. They were on it with two friends who live in Egypt. They are both university students in the city studying finance and public relations and talking of starting a business of some kind. They too showed us baby fotos from the camera through the (smaller) flat screen TV with the Phillips DVD player/recorder and stereo system. They are blessing their baby at church tomorrow. We already love all these people. They are as fine as any in your ward.
Now, the contrast. Living conditions: The Henrriquez’s live in a three room, handmade from scrap lumber, add on behind the tumble down, homemade house of another family. The “bathroom” is in the “breezeway” between the two where we made our way through the hanging laundry. Both houses would easily fit into our garage/tv room, but you can’t see through our walls, and our floors don’t cave in as you walk across them, and we have light fixtures and sheetrock and room to turn around. I can’t describe the neighborhood sights, sounds, and smells, but people are out and about in the one-car-wide streets, children playing, little stores (almacens) open, business as usual for them, but a culture shock for us. The familia Sala/Bizama live in a slightly larger house we couldn’t see through with a homemade upstairs, probably for sleeping. Neither home was filthy, but cluttered is a kind description—what all they have is stacked everywhere. I doubt there is such a thing as a closet in either one. Do any of you remember Sister Meyers’ house in Arcata?
We were told our branch was poor. We have seen and smelled it, and can’t go there at night without an escort. Don’t worry, we won’t. But we will go back , take a baby gift, eat onces (night time snacks) with them, and love them. Pablo is their home teacher and will escort us. I don’t think it will be hard to “reactivate” them. They just need a little attention. We didn’t get to bear our testimonies, but they both said they will be at church tomorrow and we will do it then. See you later.
Sunday pm:
Six of the seven adults and their children we visited yesterday were at church, boosting the attendance by 20%. Aracelly bore her testimony and Alexi gave the baby a sweet blessing. We enjoyed lots of hugging and joy (abrazos y gozo) with them, and the whole branch gathered around the baby. BJ and BP both bore simple testimonies with the help of our cheat sheets, not much though.
I love singing in Spanish, especially in priesthood meeting; these men sing with gusto and right on pitch. The branch is getting used to singing with accompanament. Mom begins teaching the music classes in the branch on Thursday during my presidency meeting. Interest is high. BJ is called as a counselor in YM; BP is to start teaching the deacons (both of them) next Sunday. Standby. No, we don’t speak Spanish yet. We can make sense of most church literature and scriptures, but can’t express ourselves or understand others, yet. It’s coming. Lento. Poco a poco.
The peaches are nearly gone. We had to restrain ourselves from eating them all in one sitting. It will take three. What a treat, delicious, home canned, locally grown peaches. Roast and rice and gravy with them today along with two-week old cake and vanilla ice cream. Hoy fue un buen dia. Buenas Noches.
If this is too long we can send it as an attachment. I'll do both for good measure.
We sure do love you ALL
MOMANDDAD GANDG BPANDBJ
On the way we saw a man on a bike way out in the country carrying several long boards like 1 x 6 or so and 8-10 feet long. He balanced them, himself, and the bike and rode along the freeway without a care. I couldn’t see where he might have gotten them or where he might be going. The crops are springing up and the orchards and groves have changed from carpets of pink and white to new green. Strawberries will hit the market in a week or so. We also saw two men cutting tall grass along the right of way. One swung a scythe and the other picked up the grass and piled it onto a small pickup. We’re guessing they were getting some free hay for their livestock. In San Antonio the tsunami drill was just ending as we drove into town. All the downtown had been evacuated up the hill and the people were coming back down in a solid mass from sidewalk to sidewalk for blocks on every street. We couldn’t get through to the chapel and had to go around another way.
We didn’t have time to buy, but we saw tomatoes 4# for $2 and bananas 8# for $2. They’ll probably be cheaper next time. We pay about 50% more than that in the store; haven’t bought any from vegetable and fruit vendors on the street, yet. Fresh Asparagus is $2 a kilo, about $1 a pound. Yards have citrus trees and every meal is served with fresh lemons. I saw a women squeeze several lemons on her salad. I ate an artichoke with lemon/oil to dip it in. I tried zuchinni with melted cheese, but didn’t like it. We love the fresh oranges. We cut several into smiley wedges for our lunch. The orange trees are blooming again although they still have fruit on them. We get a sniff of orange blossoms as we walk to and from the office.
I drove the route both days with only one real lost episode, easily corrected by the elder who rode shotgun. We will soon be able to drive the whole thing by ourselves. We use the mission’s Kia van for now. When we get a car we will use it.
Tonite we saw a fancy red horse drawn cart with a young driver in some kind of dressy clothes on our way from the office. The other day we saw a horse cart in the city part of the city. One guy had a little tiny car pulling his old cart. There are old men who collect cardboard in little bicycle carts. I can’t imagine that they make more than pennies a day. I saw our second homeless street beggar the other day and a woman tried to sell us bandaids by laying them on our table at KFC and coming back a few minutes later to collect.
The other day we saw a bus hit a delivery van and roll it onto its side in slow motion. In a few minutes four men climbed out of the truck apparently unharmed. A man got hold of the back corner of the van and started to lift it. It looked like he was going to do it! Then a few others joined him and quickly righted the truck with no great damage. It was obviously the van driver’s fault, which impression was reinforced by the fact that he didn’t jump out and curse the bus driver. The people all got off the bus and ran to catch another one. We turned around because they would be blocking the intersection for hours while the police sorted it out and did all the paperwork. They love paperwork. You think our government requires a lot, you ain’t seen nothin. You get a little colored receipt for EVERYTHING.
I’ve been watching the car models and I don’t see any Chrysler products. ‘Splain it to me. There are Peugeots, Renaults, and Citreons from France, lots of Toyotas and Nissans (nearly all the Taxis are these), Kias, Suzukis, Mercedes Benz buses and trucks, but not many sedans in this part of town. A very few little Fords and lots of little Chevy models we don’t have in the US. I haven’t seen any brands I don’t recognize; do they not have an auto industry? I don’t know what the rich people on the east side drive, but in Maipu there’s nothing bigger than a Corolla.
By the way, for those who are asking, Maipu is the name of our town. Nearby is the Maipo River which comes from Canyon de Maipo, a tourist attraction we haven’t seen yet. I don’t know how the spelling got changed but our grandchildren love to laugh at it. It is the site of the last battle for independence from the Spanish two hundred years ago. Now it is just a part of Santiago and the home of a very tall “Temple de Maipu” commemorating the victory. It towers over the town as we walk about our business. I don’t know what they use it for.
Also, FYI, our correct mailing address is :
Elder Blair and/or Hermana Betty Jane Pack
Chile Santiago West Mission
Casilla de Correo 149
Chacabuco 166
Maipu
Chile
This will work for letters (about $1) or packages ( $40 to $100 or more). We’d be happy with just a letter. I think we gave out the wrong address, because we haven’t received a letter since we left the States (hint, hint). Or you can send a single sheet folded into three panels and taped at the top only (no envelopes) or postcards (current US rates ) to:
Elder Blair and/or Hermana Betty Jane Pack
Chile Santiago West Mission (pouch mail)
POB 30150
Salt Lake City UT 84130-0150
USA
Sorry for the confusion. Hope this solves the problem.
One of the tricks missionaries use to avoid theft is to have their families put stickers of Jesus and the BVM (Blessed Virgin Mary) on the package to deter the religious or superstitious. Or you could write: If you steal this stuff God will smite you dead and you will go to Hell, or a variation of same. We handle all the packages and letters that are sent by USPS and in 6 weeks have not heard of a single problem with theft or customs, and most of them don’t bother with stickers, but if you are superstitious, go right ahead. The “Christian” bookstores or Sacred Heart School should have some. Ask a Catholic.
Yesterday there were 9 big parcels that required to be picked up in the mission truck; today just three small ones that fit in our shopping bag. Each day a dozen or so letters from home. Doesn’t seem like enough for 166 missionaries. We hear that some missionaries NEVER get a letter from anyone. That should be a capital crime. We don’t know who they are or they would get cookies. We can’t keep track of every letter and missionary.
Speaking of dogs, they are everywhere; in the houses, in the yards, in the streets, in the stores, in McDonalds. They love their dogs. The fleas seem to attract dogs, too. Did I tell these stories already? Sorry.
OK. . . Something spiritual. Conference was wonderful. The Pres said we should watch it in our native languages so we did. We heard with new ears, but could hear it better on Sunday when we were alone in the office watching it on the internet. Saturday in a small room full of elders, was too much of a Gringo Party. A Chilean man who speaks excellent English and taught at the Provo MTC joined the Gringos because, he said, he likes to hear it untranslated. There is always something lost in translation. Especially when we are translating.
In priesthood meeting Pres. Uchtdorf “translated” President Benson’s 1989(?) classic talk on pride, clarifying the difference between being proud of someone’s accomplishments or the good works of the church with being prideful, the universal sin. He said what I have thought, that church members misunderstood Pres Benson and made “pride and proud” dirty words not to be used by decent people. I appreciated the clarification of one prophet‘s words by another prophet. Is there anything Joseph Smith or Brigham Young or Isaiah said that has been or needs to be clarified by living prophets? Stay tuned.
We especially loved Pres Uchtdorf and Pres Eyring, and Pres Monson, and Elder Holland, and Elder Packer, and Elder Ballard, and the other Apostles and Seventies, and the prayers with different worldwide accents, and delightful Elder Gerrit Gong. We hope they let him speak again even though he is “just a Seventy”. Maybe someday he’ll be an apostle; I’ll raise my hand high. Our favorite sessions were the ones on Saturday and Sunday. We could go on and on.
It’s different when you’re not wearing pjs, right Emily? She always dresses for conference and prefers to go to the church to watch. I doubt she has missed more than two conference sessions since she was a teenager. Keep it up Girl!! And a challenge to the rest of us? Will you take the challenge?
Another spiritual gift is from our current reading of the Book of Mormon. We have been challenged to read it again in 85 days (the time it took Joseph to finish the translation). We are having a mission Christmas celebration on Dec 23, Joseph’s birthday, 85 days from the challenge, with a special testimony meeting. We are to read it in our own language and mark the words of and references to The Savior in one color and gospel principles in another. Since our only English copies are already marked up we are doing it a little differently. OK?
We are reading it aloud to each other in dramatic fashion, trying to take on the persona of the writers and “speak” it ; then we stop frequently and “liken it unto ourselves.” We watch for the Savior’s words and names. It’s fun, and again we are hearing it with new ears—missionary ears—and we are teaching each other. We’ve never done this before and I’m learning a lot from Mom. It’s a real feast.
Por ejemplo, one of my favorite verses of scripture for years has been “and my father dwelt in a tent”. We have talked at length about Lehi’s faith and sacrifice, and every time Nephi refers to the tent, we stop and talk again, comparing their total sacrifice to our small one and taking caution from Laman and Lemuel and other murmurers. Murmf,mrumdmmkurmmffer.... So stop already your murmuring. We’re trying to. We’ve got it pretty good haven’t we?
We have also enjoyed going “UP” to Jerusalem and “DOWN” to the wilderness or Ishmael’s house, etc. Mom and I (and stowaway Amanda) went up to Jerusalem in 1976 and we recall the topography. From everywhere, you go up to Jerusalem and down to elsewhere. How did young Joseph Smith know that? And how did Nephi know that Mary was a Virgin? He could see that she was fair and beautiful and young, but he didn’t grow up with her and know her character. He saw and knew by the spirit just as we can and must. You can see the creator by observing his creations, but you can only know the Savior by revelation.
I know that the Lord will help us to know whatever we need and want to know. If we don’t want to or try to we’ll never know. But if we really want to and really try and are patient and never give up, we’ll know for ourselves as certainly as if He had spoken it in our ears. Every person can know the truths of eternity. Another of my favorites is Nephi’s confession that “I know that God loves his children, but I do not know the meaning of all things.” Neither do I. Yet. But we will someday, and in the meantime, it is enough to know that our Father loves us. Every one of us. Each of US. He knows YOU. We are his children. He knows all things and he loves his children. That’s enough for me.
We are going to bear our testimonies two or three times this weekend. Once in fast and testimony meeting in the branch and once Saturday night when we go with Pres Cerda (not cerdo=pig) to visit two inactive priesthood holding families he has assigned to us. The topic of branch presidency meeting this week was how to fill a dozen callings with 5 or 6 active men. The faithful women outnumber the men by two to one and there are men who come but don’t serve. The obvious answer is to get more active priesthood holders. How? Reactivate or baptize. The missionaries baptize. We’ll work on the ones already baptized, the menos activos.
In my halting, word at a time, Spanish I told the presidency the story of my father being reactivated by Bishop Arch McKinnon who wouldn’t take no for an answer. “This call is not from me and my counselors, Phil, it is from the Lord. Will you do it?” The first time my dad said “no,” after 10 years of inactivity, but they came back and asked again. His heart was softened and he said “yes”. From that day on my father was on the stand as the ward clerk and participated in every bishopric meeting and weekly bishopric temple session. I was about twelve years old. His answer changed my future and yours too.
He bought a little typewriter and brought his clerk work home and hunted and pecked on that little Smith Corona portable almost every night. (Who has that precious typewriter now? It may be in my barn. Will someone look for it? ) He served as clerk in four wards for almost 40 years. When he died he was clerk of two wards at once--his own and the ward at the nursing home in his stake. One in the morning and one in the afternoon.
I am and my posterity should be forever grateful. When Bishop McKinnon died I cried like he was my grandfather. His son became my best friend and was best man at our wedding. I am the oldest of four returned missionaries who were all married in the temple and have faithful children and grandchildren. What if Bishop McKinnon had not come back and asked a second time? I dread the thought.
I understand Lehi’s fear for Laman and Lemuel’s souls. The future turns on very small hinges. Hold fast to that iron rod, PLEASE, for your own sakes and mine and moms and your children and your children’s children.
I hope my grandkids hear and reread this story several times during our mission.
These two families in the Las Lomas Branch may be the primary reason BJ and BP are in Chile. The pouch and the piano may be sidelines to the most important work of our calling. I look forward to meeting them tomorrow night. Pres King said today, “Just bear your testimonies and tell them the gospel blesses families.” We can do that.
I’ll get back to the rest of the story before I send this very long email.
Sat 9:30 pm for a few minutes.
We have seen another side of life you probably can’t imagine and I can’t adequately describe. We spent p-day at one of the nice big malls in Santiago shopping for an outfit for Mom and some kitchen and bath accessories in pretty colors to coordinate with what we already have. We ate at Burger King and sat watching well dressed, well behaved families by the hundreds enjoying their Saturday afternoon. Then we caught a cab to our branch to meet our two families. Pablo, the Elder’s Q pres who learned to speak fairly good English on his mission two years ago, met us and took us walking through the branch, up a long hill, with a beautiful view of the city, and into a neighborhood such as we don’t have in Hattiesburg, even in our poorest parts of town. It would all be condemned and torn down where you live.
The two families are wonderful, sweet, kind, generous people, and not really inactive, just not fully active, but solidly in the church. The Sala family (when the inlaws are living in the house) or Bizama family (when they are living in Talca, down the country where the earthquake was) is a multigenerational fluid family of from 4 to 10 people, including three sisters, their parents (sometimes), two priesthood holders (sometimes) and children and a husband or two. We didn’t meet them all. Cutest kids you can imagine, from 9 months to 8 years. Papa showed us photos on the 40” flat screen Sony TV from his digital camera and they gave us gifts of home canned peaches (duraznos) and frozen raspberries (frambuesas) that I am going to try in a few minutes. They are as good as gold and 8 year old Catalina wants to take piano. They speak NO English, but we managed a long and pleasant conversation.
The Familia Henrriquez is Alexis, an RM to Columbia, his wife Aracelly, members of 7 and 8 years who met after his mission and were married in the temple last year, and their 3 week old Ignacio. They speak a little English—Pablo helped translate. We had a wonderful conversation while she nursed the baby twice. They taught us about “Messenger” a Skype-like free internet communication program. They were on it with two friends who live in Egypt. They are both university students in the city studying finance and public relations and talking of starting a business of some kind. They too showed us baby fotos from the camera through the (smaller) flat screen TV with the Phillips DVD player/recorder and stereo system. They are blessing their baby at church tomorrow. We already love all these people. They are as fine as any in your ward.
Now, the contrast. Living conditions: The Henrriquez’s live in a three room, handmade from scrap lumber, add on behind the tumble down, homemade house of another family. The “bathroom” is in the “breezeway” between the two where we made our way through the hanging laundry. Both houses would easily fit into our garage/tv room, but you can’t see through our walls, and our floors don’t cave in as you walk across them, and we have light fixtures and sheetrock and room to turn around. I can’t describe the neighborhood sights, sounds, and smells, but people are out and about in the one-car-wide streets, children playing, little stores (almacens) open, business as usual for them, but a culture shock for us. The familia Sala/Bizama live in a slightly larger house we couldn’t see through with a homemade upstairs, probably for sleeping. Neither home was filthy, but cluttered is a kind description—what all they have is stacked everywhere. I doubt there is such a thing as a closet in either one. Do any of you remember Sister Meyers’ house in Arcata?
We were told our branch was poor. We have seen and smelled it, and can’t go there at night without an escort. Don’t worry, we won’t. But we will go back , take a baby gift, eat onces (night time snacks) with them, and love them. Pablo is their home teacher and will escort us. I don’t think it will be hard to “reactivate” them. They just need a little attention. We didn’t get to bear our testimonies, but they both said they will be at church tomorrow and we will do it then. See you later.
Sunday pm:
Six of the seven adults and their children we visited yesterday were at church, boosting the attendance by 20%. Aracelly bore her testimony and Alexi gave the baby a sweet blessing. We enjoyed lots of hugging and joy (abrazos y gozo) with them, and the whole branch gathered around the baby. BJ and BP both bore simple testimonies with the help of our cheat sheets, not much though.
I love singing in Spanish, especially in priesthood meeting; these men sing with gusto and right on pitch. The branch is getting used to singing with accompanament. Mom begins teaching the music classes in the branch on Thursday during my presidency meeting. Interest is high. BJ is called as a counselor in YM; BP is to start teaching the deacons (both of them) next Sunday. Standby. No, we don’t speak Spanish yet. We can make sense of most church literature and scriptures, but can’t express ourselves or understand others, yet. It’s coming. Lento. Poco a poco.
The peaches are nearly gone. We had to restrain ourselves from eating them all in one sitting. It will take three. What a treat, delicious, home canned, locally grown peaches. Roast and rice and gravy with them today along with two-week old cake and vanilla ice cream. Hoy fue un buen dia. Buenas Noches.
If this is too long we can send it as an attachment. I'll do both for good measure.
We sure do love you ALL
MOMANDDAD GANDG BPANDBJ
Monday, October 4, 2010
October 4, 2010
Sunday night Oct 3, 2010, after conference back at our apartment.
Hello fellow earthlings. We greet you from the other side of the planet where it looked like winter was over until we walked home tonight. The wind from the ocean was cutting and cold. Sunny 57 and clear in the day. I see that Beth has included the Santiago weather report on our new blog—thanks for the blog Beth. (www.blairandbetty.blogspot.com) This time of year there is a pretty consistent west wind and the youngsters love to fly little square kites way up in the sky. They do battle and try to cut each other’s strings, then the victim drifts away into oblivion and someone somewhere gets a free kite if they can get it out of the trees or the wires. It is against the law but some villains use glass coated strings, which are very dangerous to people’s necks, arms, ears, etc. This is true cutthroat competition.
Another thing that is interesting is the ubiquitous graffiti. In our old town, on every fence, post, light pole, public wall, bus, truck, any accessible surface there is something written or painted (someday, I promise, photos will document the things I describe). Across our street is a very pretty one, like a mural completely covering the walls of a corner yard. Houses have walls, but no grafitti because the yard is also walled. It has much graffiti. We don’t know what it says, (mercifully I suppose), but some of it is actually artistic and appealing in an urban sort of way. Some appears to be angry and political, perhaps some is romantic, some gang related, some just to deface and destroy, some to get your name in public. Where ever we walk we see it, but we’ve never seen anyone doing it. I suppose it is one of those things they mentioned in conference today that happens late at night and is not a worthwhile and uplifting activity.
We’re still on foot, using the taxis more, and I got to drive once. Friday we learned that we can walk at least three times as far as we thought we were capable. They were teaching us where and how to get name “placas” engraved. It’s about 7 or 8 blocks, he said (I counted at least 20) through a beautiful neighborhood near the temple, slightly uphill, old mansions, schools, ballet, theater, etc. to reach a busy commercial area with tall buildings, lots of cafes, a large Paris department store, but NO parking. So the elders walk. We took a cab back to the church offices and may not walk it very many times in the future. It was well worth a million pesos (two bucks more or less—the dollar has been losing value since we got here; can’t get as much bang for your buck these days.) We ate at KFC, but they didn’t send the secret recipe here with the franchise and the Colonel would have been disappointed. I was.
The driving experience on the other hand was exhilarating and enjoyable. We drove the mission van, a Kia, automatic trans with AC – a first for our 5 weeks in Chile! It was cool. They just got it fixed in time for summer. I learned that I am also the mission fleet manager. I am responsible for all three vehicles. One of them needs brakes. There is a brake shop in every block and three tire repair shops in between the brake shops. There is a big Goodyear shop on our way to the office, but many are shade tree operations, literally. The front yard or carport makes a good store or place of business.
It doesn’t seem to take much to get into business here—spread out a towel on the sidewalk and sell whatever you can make, buy or steal, or provide a service like washing windshields at stoplights or helping people get their car into and out of a parking space. It’s actually pretty tight and it helps to have someone stand in the street and divert the 60kpm traffic while you maneuver. It could be worth a buck. I like the speed limits here. You can go 100 on all the freeways, but it feels like 60, because it is. Metric, you know. That’s how the rest of the world measures things. The U.S. is the last holdout. It’s hard to figure how much gas costs: 620 pesos per liter today and rising. We buy a quarter kilo of nuts and it fills a ziploc bag.
Oh, by the way, I got initiated by a flea or three this week, too. Mom’s arm has hurt all week, worse on Friday when she tried to make the bed by herself, but today it seems a bit better. Did you know that flea bites itch like the devil for a few days? Worse than mosquitoes, which they say are coming with the warm weather. We live on the first floor, don’t have AC or window screens, and wouldn’t like to leave the windows open anyway, so I’m not sure how we’ll handle the warm weather. They say it gets pretty hot here in the summer. We’ll survive, we have two small fans. Maybe we can find a car with airco and auto. How do you say fat chance in español?
Thurs nite I had my first branch presidency meeting. In Spanish. I was drowning the first thirty minutes, but when they got to my responsibilities they shifted down to quarter speed. They talk a million words a minute and read even faster. We think they skip half the words when they read. They threw in a few English words (they have been sandbagging) for my sake. They know more English than they let on. I am assigned to find a Sunday School teacher for the youth, two counselors for the Deacon’s Q pres (and start teaching the lessons in a few weeks), a magazine rep, 20 new Liahona subscriptions, look after the 4-5 young adults/institute, and also be half of the activity committee. I also conduct Sacrament meeting in two weeks. The stake president says he is thrilled to have a man of my experience in the branch. We’ll see how that pans out. Experience may not count for much without communication. I need the gift of tongues and they need the interpretation of tongues.
One of our language problems is that we are both green. We can’t teach each other, and everybody who can wants to speak English with us. Yesterday we watched General Conference at our stake center in English, but in the halls all the joking and banter was in Spanish. I didn’t know when to laugh, but they laughed when I said it’s good to meet you when we shook hands goodbye. I think half the jokes they are laughing at are on me. I really question how much good we are doing. We’ll keep on doing, and trust that our effort is worth something we can’t see.
Yesterday we got two “missionary blessings”. The Lord watches over us. We went to a mall food court between sessions to get a bite to eat. It was HUGE and had every American fast food you could imagine, so of course we got Chinese. As we were leaving a young man caught up to us and returned my passport copy we use for ID in order to use the Visa card and do any business (no visas yet, will take a couple of months or more). He could have stolen my ID, but chose the better part. He had a wife and baby, and I didn’t even have the presence of mind to give him a Families Can Be Together Forever card. I hope he finds some missionaries soon who will teach him and put his goodness to proper use. When I came home from Priesthood meeting, our house keys were in the door where anyone could have come in or taken them for later use. They had been there over 4 hours. Andres Toledo says Americans operate on trust but not so in his country. I saw two blessed exceptions to his opinion today.
However, every window in the church is barred with 1 inch square steel, placed in six inch squares, behind a ten foot steel fence with barbed wire on top and two pound padlocks on the gates. The exterior door knobs are epoxied all around so they can’t be pried loose and every door, closet, kitchen, cabinet has a lock on it. I was naïve to leave my computer for two hours in an unlocked office even with someone in the adjacent room. Live and learn, not to trust. Now the mission pres has instituted tighter policies about other missionaries coming into the office, office hours, self-locking doors, etc. There have been many other things stolen lately. The horse is out of the barn but maybe we can prevent further loss.
By the way, Thanks to all who helped to replace our stolen computer. Kevin tells me the mule should arrive in about a week, and that the duffel bag is stuffed with pantyhose and candy, two of our essential needs. Now we hope to get internet in our apartment. I’m composing this on Windows Word and will attach it to the email when we get to the office tomorrow. We have an early meeting with the Pres and his staff. They are getting ready for the new missionary couple who arrive on Tues.
We had a nice dinner and evening of Spanglish conversation with the Toledos on Friday nite. She fixed fajitas, chicken and beef, with tomatoes and palta (guacamole), no cheese, lettuce, or chiles. It was very good. Then she brought out bread and apricot jam she had made. I went pig over it. She sent us home with a huge jar of it. I’ll enjoy it for a year. Their little Sandrita, 2, is our subtitute Ella. She is a hoot. She loves Gramma Pack and her placa, pin, glasses, scarf, and noises. We haven't taught her “Creep –O-Bug" yet, but she knows UH-OH. We think we could teach her English easier than we could learn Spanish. It was a fun night with a real Chilean family in a real Chilean home.
I've said many times that things are smaller here. They are also less comfortable. These people are not comfort creatures and don't have many creature comforts. They get along just fine, BUT the one thing I miss most of all is COMFORT. I love our bed and our hot shower and spend as much time as possible in them because they are the only places I feel totally comfortable. I am really spoiled by our decadent American (I mean North American) lifestyle. Some rich people here have it all and the nation is probably gaining weight as they get more cars and fast food, but for us peasants it's pretty much small and/or hard. The second most missed thing is fresh cold milk. They have tons of yogurt, cheese, ice cream and butter, but the milk is hard to swallow. I think I tell you this in every letter, eh?
An advantage is that we get to bed early and talk for two hours. At home that would be TV time; me in the recliner; she in the bed, separately and singly. I like the pillow talk and the snuggly time. We also get lots of other talk time as we walk and work in the office. It's a good thing. I recommend it to y'all couples, too.
--------------------
Now it's tomorrow. We are in the office alone, the office staff and the Kings are working in the new couple's apartment getting it ready for them. Outside there are about 20 missionaries and friends playing p-day soccer and basketball. I'm going out to get a foto. Celia has just cleaned up the weekly mess. We hired her to clean our place twice a month, not that it needs it, but for her benefit. She also cleans the elders apartment upstairs from us. After she cleaned last week I understood her to say our apartment was very clean before she got there and the elders place was nasty dirty filthy gross and other spanish words I didn't quite catch. While I write, mom is diligently studying her Spanish. She is going to learn it before I do.
Hi, this is Mom. I am not going to learn before he does. The Lord is going to help us both, I know that. It is awesome being a missionary and hard also but we can do it with a positive attitude and study and prayers then the Lord will take over. I love each of you dearly and miss your closeness with lots of hugs and kisses. You are the dearest ever. We love skyping to see each of your sweet faces. Thanks for modern technology. Dad wants me to l
I want her to learn how to use the computer. It's been a long time since she used a typewriter and the computer feels different. LUV LUV LUV the pizza man is here. Got to go.
Editors note: When asked, “Really, a pizza man?” The answer was, “Yes, Dominos. 2 for 10mill <=$20. Pretty good stuff. Candian bacon, shrooms, and olives.
Hello fellow earthlings. We greet you from the other side of the planet where it looked like winter was over until we walked home tonight. The wind from the ocean was cutting and cold. Sunny 57 and clear in the day. I see that Beth has included the Santiago weather report on our new blog—thanks for the blog Beth. (www.blairandbetty.blogspot.com) This time of year there is a pretty consistent west wind and the youngsters love to fly little square kites way up in the sky. They do battle and try to cut each other’s strings, then the victim drifts away into oblivion and someone somewhere gets a free kite if they can get it out of the trees or the wires. It is against the law but some villains use glass coated strings, which are very dangerous to people’s necks, arms, ears, etc. This is true cutthroat competition.
Another thing that is interesting is the ubiquitous graffiti. In our old town, on every fence, post, light pole, public wall, bus, truck, any accessible surface there is something written or painted (someday, I promise, photos will document the things I describe). Across our street is a very pretty one, like a mural completely covering the walls of a corner yard. Houses have walls, but no grafitti because the yard is also walled. It has much graffiti. We don’t know what it says, (mercifully I suppose), but some of it is actually artistic and appealing in an urban sort of way. Some appears to be angry and political, perhaps some is romantic, some gang related, some just to deface and destroy, some to get your name in public. Where ever we walk we see it, but we’ve never seen anyone doing it. I suppose it is one of those things they mentioned in conference today that happens late at night and is not a worthwhile and uplifting activity.
We’re still on foot, using the taxis more, and I got to drive once. Friday we learned that we can walk at least three times as far as we thought we were capable. They were teaching us where and how to get name “placas” engraved. It’s about 7 or 8 blocks, he said (I counted at least 20) through a beautiful neighborhood near the temple, slightly uphill, old mansions, schools, ballet, theater, etc. to reach a busy commercial area with tall buildings, lots of cafes, a large Paris department store, but NO parking. So the elders walk. We took a cab back to the church offices and may not walk it very many times in the future. It was well worth a million pesos (two bucks more or less—the dollar has been losing value since we got here; can’t get as much bang for your buck these days.) We ate at KFC, but they didn’t send the secret recipe here with the franchise and the Colonel would have been disappointed. I was.
The driving experience on the other hand was exhilarating and enjoyable. We drove the mission van, a Kia, automatic trans with AC – a first for our 5 weeks in Chile! It was cool. They just got it fixed in time for summer. I learned that I am also the mission fleet manager. I am responsible for all three vehicles. One of them needs brakes. There is a brake shop in every block and three tire repair shops in between the brake shops. There is a big Goodyear shop on our way to the office, but many are shade tree operations, literally. The front yard or carport makes a good store or place of business.
It doesn’t seem to take much to get into business here—spread out a towel on the sidewalk and sell whatever you can make, buy or steal, or provide a service like washing windshields at stoplights or helping people get their car into and out of a parking space. It’s actually pretty tight and it helps to have someone stand in the street and divert the 60kpm traffic while you maneuver. It could be worth a buck. I like the speed limits here. You can go 100 on all the freeways, but it feels like 60, because it is. Metric, you know. That’s how the rest of the world measures things. The U.S. is the last holdout. It’s hard to figure how much gas costs: 620 pesos per liter today and rising. We buy a quarter kilo of nuts and it fills a ziploc bag.
Oh, by the way, I got initiated by a flea or three this week, too. Mom’s arm has hurt all week, worse on Friday when she tried to make the bed by herself, but today it seems a bit better. Did you know that flea bites itch like the devil for a few days? Worse than mosquitoes, which they say are coming with the warm weather. We live on the first floor, don’t have AC or window screens, and wouldn’t like to leave the windows open anyway, so I’m not sure how we’ll handle the warm weather. They say it gets pretty hot here in the summer. We’ll survive, we have two small fans. Maybe we can find a car with airco and auto. How do you say fat chance in español?
Thurs nite I had my first branch presidency meeting. In Spanish. I was drowning the first thirty minutes, but when they got to my responsibilities they shifted down to quarter speed. They talk a million words a minute and read even faster. We think they skip half the words when they read. They threw in a few English words (they have been sandbagging) for my sake. They know more English than they let on. I am assigned to find a Sunday School teacher for the youth, two counselors for the Deacon’s Q pres (and start teaching the lessons in a few weeks), a magazine rep, 20 new Liahona subscriptions, look after the 4-5 young adults/institute, and also be half of the activity committee. I also conduct Sacrament meeting in two weeks. The stake president says he is thrilled to have a man of my experience in the branch. We’ll see how that pans out. Experience may not count for much without communication. I need the gift of tongues and they need the interpretation of tongues.
One of our language problems is that we are both green. We can’t teach each other, and everybody who can wants to speak English with us. Yesterday we watched General Conference at our stake center in English, but in the halls all the joking and banter was in Spanish. I didn’t know when to laugh, but they laughed when I said it’s good to meet you when we shook hands goodbye. I think half the jokes they are laughing at are on me. I really question how much good we are doing. We’ll keep on doing, and trust that our effort is worth something we can’t see.
Yesterday we got two “missionary blessings”. The Lord watches over us. We went to a mall food court between sessions to get a bite to eat. It was HUGE and had every American fast food you could imagine, so of course we got Chinese. As we were leaving a young man caught up to us and returned my passport copy we use for ID in order to use the Visa card and do any business (no visas yet, will take a couple of months or more). He could have stolen my ID, but chose the better part. He had a wife and baby, and I didn’t even have the presence of mind to give him a Families Can Be Together Forever card. I hope he finds some missionaries soon who will teach him and put his goodness to proper use. When I came home from Priesthood meeting, our house keys were in the door where anyone could have come in or taken them for later use. They had been there over 4 hours. Andres Toledo says Americans operate on trust but not so in his country. I saw two blessed exceptions to his opinion today.
However, every window in the church is barred with 1 inch square steel, placed in six inch squares, behind a ten foot steel fence with barbed wire on top and two pound padlocks on the gates. The exterior door knobs are epoxied all around so they can’t be pried loose and every door, closet, kitchen, cabinet has a lock on it. I was naïve to leave my computer for two hours in an unlocked office even with someone in the adjacent room. Live and learn, not to trust. Now the mission pres has instituted tighter policies about other missionaries coming into the office, office hours, self-locking doors, etc. There have been many other things stolen lately. The horse is out of the barn but maybe we can prevent further loss.
By the way, Thanks to all who helped to replace our stolen computer. Kevin tells me the mule should arrive in about a week, and that the duffel bag is stuffed with pantyhose and candy, two of our essential needs. Now we hope to get internet in our apartment. I’m composing this on Windows Word and will attach it to the email when we get to the office tomorrow. We have an early meeting with the Pres and his staff. They are getting ready for the new missionary couple who arrive on Tues.
We had a nice dinner and evening of Spanglish conversation with the Toledos on Friday nite. She fixed fajitas, chicken and beef, with tomatoes and palta (guacamole), no cheese, lettuce, or chiles. It was very good. Then she brought out bread and apricot jam she had made. I went pig over it. She sent us home with a huge jar of it. I’ll enjoy it for a year. Their little Sandrita, 2, is our subtitute Ella. She is a hoot. She loves Gramma Pack and her placa, pin, glasses, scarf, and noises. We haven't taught her “Creep –O-Bug" yet, but she knows UH-OH. We think we could teach her English easier than we could learn Spanish. It was a fun night with a real Chilean family in a real Chilean home.
I've said many times that things are smaller here. They are also less comfortable. These people are not comfort creatures and don't have many creature comforts. They get along just fine, BUT the one thing I miss most of all is COMFORT. I love our bed and our hot shower and spend as much time as possible in them because they are the only places I feel totally comfortable. I am really spoiled by our decadent American (I mean North American) lifestyle. Some rich people here have it all and the nation is probably gaining weight as they get more cars and fast food, but for us peasants it's pretty much small and/or hard. The second most missed thing is fresh cold milk. They have tons of yogurt, cheese, ice cream and butter, but the milk is hard to swallow. I think I tell you this in every letter, eh?
An advantage is that we get to bed early and talk for two hours. At home that would be TV time; me in the recliner; she in the bed, separately and singly. I like the pillow talk and the snuggly time. We also get lots of other talk time as we walk and work in the office. It's a good thing. I recommend it to y'all couples, too.
--------------------
Now it's tomorrow. We are in the office alone, the office staff and the Kings are working in the new couple's apartment getting it ready for them. Outside there are about 20 missionaries and friends playing p-day soccer and basketball. I'm going out to get a foto. Celia has just cleaned up the weekly mess. We hired her to clean our place twice a month, not that it needs it, but for her benefit. She also cleans the elders apartment upstairs from us. After she cleaned last week I understood her to say our apartment was very clean before she got there and the elders place was nasty dirty filthy gross and other spanish words I didn't quite catch. While I write, mom is diligently studying her Spanish. She is going to learn it before I do.
Hi, this is Mom. I am not going to learn before he does. The Lord is going to help us both, I know that. It is awesome being a missionary and hard also but we can do it with a positive attitude and study and prayers then the Lord will take over. I love each of you dearly and miss your closeness with lots of hugs and kisses. You are the dearest ever. We love skyping to see each of your sweet faces. Thanks for modern technology. Dad wants me to l
I want her to learn how to use the computer. It's been a long time since she used a typewriter and the computer feels different. LUV LUV LUV the pizza man is here. Got to go.
Editors note: When asked, “Really, a pizza man?” The answer was, “Yes, Dominos. 2 for 10mill <=$20. Pretty good stuff. Candian bacon, shrooms, and olives.
Saturday, October 2, 2010
The Awesomeness of Skype
Mom had a fall last week and this morning while making the bed she felt an increased amount of pain in her arm. When we saw her on Skype today she had very fashionably made a semi-functional sling out of a lovely printed scarf. Jenny, our family nurse, made a long distance diagnosis that her symptoms sound muscular. However, she also advised her to get an x-ray and have the mission nurse check her out. Mom has been taking an anti-inflammatory. We are concerned and will be praying for her relief and healing. Dad is keeping a careful eye on her and helping her along. We trust he will intervene when necessary.
Mom & Dad will be watching General Conference at their Stake Center. Missionaries watch it in their native tongue. Unlike in the U.S. where satellite networks and high speed internet make it possible to listen and view Conference at home, in Chile they expect people will be attending at the church building.
Dad had his first Branch Presidency meeting this week. Last Sunday he was sustained as 2nd Counselor during the Los Lomos Branch Conference. He was not set apart as the 2nd Counselor and explained that since he is currently set apart as a full-time missionary under the Mission President, President King, he has been assigned by President King to serve as the 2nd Counselor. His branch presidency assignments will be over Sunday School, Deacons Quorum, Activities Committee, Institute and Magazines. There are several callings and assignments that need to be filled. They also set a goal to have 20 new church magazine subscriptions. Dad agreed to let us know if there are people who desire to have the magazines but do not have the means. Dad is working on a script he will use when he conducts Sacrament Meeting in 2-3 weeks!!!
Randomness: They said the weather was beautiful, cool, and early Spring is arriving. Another senior missionary couple is expected to arrive in the mission next week. For lunch Mom & Dad had treated themselves to McDonalds and tonight were having dinner at the home of Andres & Sandra Toledo Palma (Bianca’s parents). We appreciate all that Andres and his family have done to care for and love Mom & Dad.
Mom & Dad send their love to all! They would never solicit letters, so I will. Their address is listed to the right and they would LOVE to hear from each of you! Your prayers are always welcome.
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