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