November 12, 2010

Sun. pm
So she made a little cake with her last handful of Duncan Hines and a little oil. She had faith that the Lord would provide another and that her barrel of meal should not waste and the cruz of oil would not fail until the Day that the Lord calls her back to WalMart in the land of milk and honey. The milk here is cooked, boxed, and barely tolerable on cereal. You wouldn't want to spoil a yummy piece of carrot cake with cream cheese and walnut frosting with a glass of Parmalat would you? Not me. Can't wait until bedtime, when I can have seconds. By the way, the blood sugar has not been above 101 the times I've tested it here. Target is below 120. I don't test after cake. Instead of milk I cherish my daily cup of Coke Zero, about $5 US for 3 liters. Lasts about a week.

The Sunday roast turned out to be greasy pork and the corn on the cob “imported from the United States” according to the persuasive street vendor, tasted like field corn shipped back in June sometime. The (real) potatoes and gravy are now a Sunday expectation without disappointment. On Fast Day they were especially welcome. Fried zucchini rounded out the plate along with a tasty loaf of Pan, Campo, Rustica, which we took to mean crusty homemade country style bread in a round dome-shaped loaf that you tear not slice and slather with mantaquilla (butter). No disappointment here either. I bought some local honey (miel) but have only finger tasted it. For breakfast I'll have some more pan y mantaquilla con miel. (It was delicious.) We're becoming Chilenos.

Mom and I each taught our lesson, so to speak. I had seven minutes, six boys; she had one girl and three women who didn't speak English. Her interpreter didn't show. Emergencies, she said. We did our best and leave the rest to the Spirit to carry a message into the hearts of the jovenes (young people). We are trying to simply speak more—Spanish or English-- in all our contacts with people. I bore a simple testimony without notes today and chatted up the cab driver all the way home. He understood me enough to go off on long rants about drugs, kids these days, his four kids and three grandkids, Mormons he knows, living near the LDS church in Los Cerrillos. I guess I understood some of him, too. It's getting fun to try, frustrating but fun.

It rained all day so no kids on the playground, but jovenes partying until well past midnight. They told us it was going to rain, but silly geese, we left the paragua (umbrella) home as did many others at church. Most of them were seen holding lesson manuals or garbage bags over their heads as they made their ways home, walking of course. Very bizarre weather they say. When our Branch Pres got home (walking in the rain) he called us to make sure we had gotten a cab. Touching. How could we not love these people?

Rejoice! Both of “our families” were at church again. We haven't been to their homes again, but we do make over them at church. They seem to like the attention, and it's not just from us. They are truly welcomed by the branch. Little Ignatio, who was named and blessed last Fast Sunday, is growing like a weed. Aracelly almost burst when I told her our daughters had asked about him and were sending a gift. She couldn't believe it. Such simple gratitude gets into my heart—and my eyes, too. These people are the salt of the earth. Good and genuine. They have not lost their savor, and they never complain about not having a car. We're trying not to.

The Primary Presidency asked Mom to play for the Primary Children's Sacrament Meeting in two weeks. It's my Sunday to conduct. They have two practices the next two Wednesdays with all 11 children. I can't wait to enjoy whatever they have created and prepared. So far we've not been disappointed with anything our Branch and Stake have produced. First Class all the way.

A good sign. Two year old Matilda told her mother she wanted to be my friend. Her mother got young Elder Grow to translate for her to me, but I understood what she was saying well enough to answer her and Mattie directly, bypassing Elder Grow. One small step; one small friend; one giant satisfaction. I just ache that we are not allowed to hug these kids. They are angelic. For several weeks Mattie wouldn't come near me or look me in the eye. Now we're buds.! We're lovin' it.

I promised details. Applebys right? Right! A few weeks ago Mom promised the office staff she would take them out to eat before Elder Roundy leaves the office. He leaves Tuesday. In our staff meeting last week Elder Acosta (Uruguay) asked the pres if we could have an office activity this Saturday, at Appleby's he found online. Mom was game, we did, she paid. The bill was bigger than she anticipated, but the food was all-American. Coke Zero in big ice-filled glasses with free refills (all three unheard of), nachos, ribeye steak and not puny either, medium rare to perfection, steamed broccoli, large napkins, an English speaking waiter, photos, laughter. A fun time was had by all and Mom swallowed the bill and still hasn't spent as much as she would have at home. This was in an area called Las Condes: Lexus, Peugot, Mercedes and a BMW dealership two stories tall and a block long. The Dorius's had never been there. “We're not in Maipu any more are we?” Hardly. We also saw a Ruby Tuesday nearby. Next month? Dutch, maybe. We've been told you can get anything in Santiago you can get in the US—I think it's all in Las Condes.

We are so grateful for our kids and grandkids. You and many others are such a support to us. We have decided to track all the letters and packages that come to the mission from now till the first of the year. I hear that many missionaries have zero support and get just that many letters. I want to know who and do something. One couple told us they had not had a letter, package, email from any of their kids or grandkids since they left home. Sad. Not to brag but to say THANKS, Beth tells us our blog has had over 250 hits. Amazing. We love your comments and welcome more. We'll respond if you include your email. I apologize for whining about not getting letters. I just counted up all the letters I've written on paper and mailed to any of you. Big Fat Zero, Nada, Nothing, Nunca. I promise to do better. I do try to answer each email personally.

Mon. pm
Back at the open window again. Kids hard at play. Beautiful day. We came home early, no meetings, p-day clothes, a nap, and time to write. We won't have this luxury for the next 6 days at least. Just our schedule. We really have considerable control over some of our time. We wake at 6:30 or 7:00 (can you believe it?), get up and going by 7 or 7:30, at the office about 9, earlier sometimes for special needs like today (more later), take our lunch or eat out on the way to the correo about 2pm (Big Macs and Doble Quartos con cueso today). Sometimes we work late getting the pouches ready; sometimes we Skype; sometimes we have branch or stake meetings; we are going to come home early every chance we get. To bed between 10 and 11. P-day on Saturday. Branch 2-4 nites a week.

Last Sat. after Applebys we were dropped off at another big mall we hadn't been to and spent about 5 hours shopping, eating ice cream (three flavors with toppings and whipped cream in a tall parfait glass for about a buck and a half), enjoying the people, chillin'. Again, we were impressed. Families by the hundreds, kids of all ages, many people holding hands, three generations together, not a negative spot in the day—if you subtract the PDAs. Even at church, couples, not all of them teenagers, overdo the goodbye k.i.s.s.i.n.g. (Hear those jets flying over? There is an air force base, an international airport, and at least two flying schools not far from us.) Poor Mom was so disappointed. She looked for hours in all the department stores for summer shirts, blouses, skirts, etc. She couldn't find a thing she liked in her size. Today we stopped in our local downtown Corona and she found three for about $25 US. You never know. She's going back tomorrow.

Elder Barlow (Las Vegas) tells his friends who are coming to Chile to buy only one suit in the US for the MTC and travel, then get three at Corona for the price of the one they brought. He says they are very good quality. Maybe he's been here too long. But I might try one. Sixty bucks isn't too big a risk.

Mom has found and befriended a hairdresser next door to the correo. For $11 she got a very nice cut, shampoo and comb-out. Then Soledad came at me with her scissors, but I begged off until otro dia. Men's haircuts are $4 and she has some two-fer deals we might try. I'm not quite ready. OH! What luck! At the mall is a jumbo grocery store called JUMBO. You go right into it at the end of the mall just like Sears. After striking out in every other store we've been to for two months, she found her much needed Jean Nate'. Good thing too because she was down to fumes. I made her get two. About the same as US. I got two 12 oz. jars of $5 off-brand p-nut butter. Both imported, go figure.

This is Cambio Week in the mission. In Mississippi we call it transfers; they call it changes. Every six weeks missionaries go home, come in or get changed--areas or companions or both. About two-thirds of the 160+ missionaries were changed in some way the last two days. It is a mammoth operation which takes half of the six weeks to prepare for the next one. The office is abuzz and a mess until the deed is finished. Whew! We finished about noon today. That's why we got to come home early.

The “Go-Homers” leave late Monday to fly all night and get home before afternoon usually. We don't get to go the airport or their final meeting and interviews, but we got to see and greet and congratulate all of them as they came to the office. I'm in charge of making sure their luggage makes weight requirements, which vary by airline and destination. South American flyers only get to take one 30kilo and a small carry-on. It's hard to make weight even when you're allowed two 23kilo, a carry-on of questionable size, a personal bag and your suit pockets stuffed full of the heaviest stuff. Poor Elder Simmons (Bountiful) had to take the stone base off his treasured lapis lazuli (precious and famous Chilean stone) eagle carving and leave it behind. Saved him about 6 pounds. Another left his boots. It's gut wrenching to do and to watch. Sweet, Sweet Day.

Today the 82 cambios and their companions came in like an army, on foot, by bus, truck, delivery van, any kind of vehicle a willing member could find. As we approached the office gate they were streaming down the street with everything they own. An amazing sight. For about an hour they meet and greet on the outdoor soccer/basketball court every LDS church has. They know who is going to be changed, who is getting one of the 20 greenies to train, but no one knows who their new companion is or where they will serve.

Then the Assistants bring out printouts of all that information, announce who the new zone leaders and district leaders are (we lost 8 of 12 zone leaders who went home yesterday), and post the changes on the back wall of the church property. A semi-controlled semi-mad dash ensues. Then there is lots of hugging and tears, celebrating, and perhaps some private misgivings that hopefully will be worked out quickly. I don't have companion problems on this mission, but I understand being assigned somewhere or with someone you didn't think you wanted. Sometimes you don't find out till a while later how tough it's going to be. It's one of the miracles of Missionary Work that there are very few comp on comp homicides.

The greenies fly in early in the morning, get fed, interviewed, oriented, and meet their new trainers who have just come out of the temple. The trainers help pull the luggage and take their new companions home (somehow—welcome to Chile, Elder) to rest before the evening appointments. BJ and I have the pleasure of giving each greenie a brand new pillow, but not until Thursday. This change all 20 were North American males. When we have Latinos and Sisters things are slightly different, but you get the picture.

Literally. Beth helped me upload all our mission photos to somewhere in the sky where with the right secret information you can see them, including today and yesterday's pix. They don't have captions yet. Adopting new technology is sometimes a tedious process—for me. I'm going to leave you now and try putting on captions.

Tues. pm
Dog poo in Maipu. It's everywhere. And it gets tracked everywhere else. Somebody needs to teach these street dogs to doo it on the grass not the sidewalk. It's especially hazardous in the dark. So far we have kept our souls clean, but the nose is assaulted by every breeze. I learned how the street dogs survive. They climb into garbage containers (I haven't actually seen a dumpster), so people hang their garbage on fences, trees, wherever, in plastic store bags, but the dogs are clever, and every Monday and Friday morning, before the truck gets there the street to the office is strewn with remnants. However, unlike our Lamar County sanitation workers, the Maipu Municipal workers in their lime green caps and vests sweep and pick up the stray garbage. I also saw a woman pulling a shopping trolley like ours, reaching into it and pulling out a pork chop now and then for an especially worthy dog. How does she know? The butcher truck sometimes has scraps to throw. The dogs are well fed.

As are the people. Not many skinny ones on the streets. I think it's the daily ice cream. And bread. And those late night onces (say oon-saeys)--church or family gatherings for snacks about 10 or 11. Cheese might play a part. Completos piled high with mayo, catsup, avocado? My weight? I've actually lost a few, very few. My belt still fits, but my coat is loose. Fully dressed and pockets loaded I topped 106 on Monday. Impressed? Kilograms.

Fri. pm
Seven kids and two adults came to the Primary practice. It was better than you'd think. I got some more photos captioned and into folders. May send them to the sky tonight. Got to get this on its way. Bye for now. A very tiring week. LUV LUV LUV LOVE LOVE LOVE

Mom and Dad

Editor’s note: Pictures are coming. Another syncing needs to take place though. We made some progress but we are not finished...yet.