I've spent some time reading this long series of emails and want to bring you up to date on a few things.
From email 9: the struggling elder who was about to cash it in two months ago is in a new area with a new companion, had a baptism, put on some weight, is healthier and gave me a big loving hug today. He is here to stay, two more months. Hurray.
From email 10: still no mosquitoes, and it's the 4th of July in January; whole turkeys by the truck load the weeks before Christmas, now they are gone. Now truckloads of watermelons. Yummy.
From email 13: The two families we visited three months ago have been to church faithfully and all hold callings now in the branch or stake. I can't imagine that our pitiful visit made much difference, but we have become friends and are glad they are more active. We have not visited in any other homes.
From 13: haven't weighed lately, but the belt has shortened three notches. Mom's foot and my hips hurt.
From 18: I found the perfect South American Gentleman Hat and I love it. So do the elders and Sister King. The president hasn't commented. Just call me Don Blair. No fotos.
Sadly, the elders lost the paper on which we had written the names and numbers of the two families who asked us for missionaries after seeing my Christmas tie. Our only hope is that they are still looking and will find the church some other way—maybe they'll see us again and ask when the missionaries are coming.
The December goal of 70 baptisms fell short at 44, but is one of the best months ever. President King says we are not very good at setting realistic goals. The cumulative goal announced by the missionaries for January is about 220—not realistic when you have less than that many who have had at least the first discussion.
From today, Cinco Enero (5 January) We discovered today that we have had an internet port at our office desk since day one. It was hidden and until today no one got under the desk and discovered it. We could have skyped and emailed any time we wanted from our own office. That and a few other things have dragged me down the last few days.
I just reread all my long emails from 9 to 20 to try and defunk myself. It helped, but I'm still kind of bummed, so. . . I have nothing more to say until I feel better.
Thurs., Jan. 6, 2011 at the mission office, in our “office” on line and semi private.
Strange thing-I needed to go back to the apartment and get BJ's name tag. I could have taken the car, but something from outer space took over my body and I chose to walk, about 2 miles, by myself. I miss being by myself, but IT'S NOT ABOUT ME! It's not a vacation. It's not a vacation. It's not a vacation. It's not your time. It's not your life. It's not a vacation. It isn't always fun. You are here to serve others, not your own needs. It's not a vacation.
The other day I got confused and thought I was a tourist. I wanted to sightsee, stop, walk on the black sand beach, take photos; but reality grabbed me by the scruff of the neck and whispered (shouted) in my ear. IT'S NOT A VACATION. IT'S NOT ABOUT YOU. IT'S NOT YOUR TIME. YOU ARE ON THE LORD'S ERRAND. GET OVER YOURSELF. GET BACK TO WORK. IT'S NOT A VACATION. DON'T YOU GET IT YET? IT'S NOT ABOUT YOU. Ok, I hear you. Duty and honor and integrity and perseverance and endure to the end. It's not the end. It's barely the beginning.
It's hard to remember that all the time. Especially driving through a new town, the most beautiful we've seen in Chile. Santo Domingo is a hillside, seaside town built on Southern California standards. No high fence/wall with broken glass or spikes on top and big padlocks. Nice low hedges, picket fences, or no fence at all. Long large sloping green mowed front lawns, wide yards, big houses of many styles, obviously made with lots of money and tended by professional landscapers. All overlooking a couple of miles of black beach and unique rock formations apparently smoothed and left by a receding glacier. Nothing that says tourist. This is a real residential town, but unlike any we've seen in Chile. The beach is not free. They have lifeguards and money collectors who rush you as soon as you slow down, but there were a lot of people enjoying the summer sun. Maybe they don't charge residents and discourage tourists looking for a free place. I got a couple of fotos before we had to go. Another beautiful place to take you when you visit. That day I will actually be a tourist.
Poem of the week:
Is there someone who gets on your nerves?
Do you want them to just disappear?
How can that happen?
Maybe it can't;
So you will just have to endure.
Maybe you can learn to tolerate, but that is hard.
Maybe you can remember that God made us all and we are each a unique child of God.
Maybe you'll see there is something you do that might grind on someone else.
Try to be kind, patient, long-suffering, and loving with that person.
Realize you are trying to get through this situation teaching yourself tolerance.
Practice kindness in all things.
Maybe this person is in your path because you need to learn tolerance.
By BJ
No one you know. Just life. God commanded us to love everyone, but did He say we had to like them all? I never have. Some people. Get . Under. my. Skin. Where the nerves are. Where the turn me off button is. It has been a trying week.
Just read all the emails back to the beginning, before we left Utah. A few more updates and more observations.
The farmers here are outstanding in their fields, every day. The strawberry season has lasted three months so far; there seem to be microclimates in each little sub valley. They are still pulling onions and potatoes; the corn appears to be planted every two weeks; great second cutting of alfalfa. Some flowers and bushes we have in the US grow into trees here. We saw lantana and crepe myrtle with 6 inch trunks and 40 feet tall bougainvillea trees, rose trees and hibiscus trees above the roof.
Our Spanish seems to be stalled; we aren't much improved for over two months. This is very discouraging for me. Every time I need to do business or make a phone call or email I have to have a young helper. I feel pretty helpless, although I can do the shopping, pay the bills and get the car washed. First thing I say is Can you speak English? No? Well, I don't speak much Spanish either. We go from there. I hope I can learn it before going home. That would be humiliating. You were there 18 month and didn't learn the language? I get the feeling from many people that we should have learned it by now. It's harder than it looks and we don't get much help. Even when they try to help we don't know what they are saying. I did have two conversations this week without a translator. I used to think it was funny to speak Spanglish; now it's just frustrating. Next time you meet a Mexican who doesn't speak English, give 'em a break.
The home teaching report for December-00; the goal for January-12. No permanent assignments, just monthly assignments to whoever is willing, and in priesthood meeting on the first Sunday. The YM Pres used the term scouting on me. Our stake has none. Some do, even stake campouts. I may get to be the pioneer scoutmaster. There is an old man my age or more who walks around Maipu in spiffy full Boy Scouts of Chile uniform. Whatever the story, he's proud of it.
The mail tally is over. I'm through counting. The gap widened between receivers and non. But today Elder Teran of Peru, out fourteen months, got his first package. It was from the United States, so I suspect some kind Elder(his companion?) got his family involved. Elder Teran came back from a meeting, thought he had lost it, but BJ had just moved it. When he found it he hugged it to his chest. Our Chirstmas package number 2 is still tied up in customs. WHY? People tell us they have sent letters, but we haven't gotten them yet. Is it got or gotten?
A couple with a child and a woman with a son tell us their divorces are becoming final soon and they will be able to marry and finally be baptized. I'll tell more as it happens.
The car may be ours tomorrow. Gas is 690 a liter. That's almost $1.50, so a 2 liter pop bottle of gas costs about $3.00. It costs 50-70 dollars to fill up, but it lasts about two weeks if we don't go on “vacation”. Our AC doesn't work and the sun is HOT. In the shade it's not so bad and if we go fast with the windows down it's tolerable but hard on the hairdo.
It's surprising how much noise a few kids on the playground can make. Beth could hear them loud and clear when we skyped the other night. It's ten pm and they are still at it. The adults take over about 11 until we don't know what time.
Our clothes dryer went dead and kept blowing the whole apartment's electricity, so this week we are hanging our laundry all over the house. I found an old folding drying rack and brought it home, so now our clothes will have rust stripes across them. New fashion craze. A new dryer (choice of two brands, two models) is about $320, but getting it home and up the stairs and into the tight space where it goes will be something else. The adventure never ends.
I know this email is kind of disjointed, not my usual style. Who knows what future editions will be like. I am evolving. Some of you tell me you enjoy them so I will keep it up the best I can. The young missionaries don't get to travel, take fotos, or write as much as we do, so you can get more detail from us. However, we are not involved in the investigator to convert process, have never been in a missionary discussion here, so we can't observe and report that happy process. I've been thinking of some stories I need to tell my grandkids, so the next several issues may be little blasts from my past. OK?
LUV YA DEARLY DEAR ONES.
GRAMMY AND GRAMPS
Friday, January 7, 2011
Sunday, January 2, 2011
January 2, 2011
Dec. 25, 2010
It's Christmas day and I'm starting a new email; just finished one last night. A couple of things have changed. I just talked to my brother, Steve, for over 20 minutes from his hospital chair. He was eating a bowl of Cheerios just as he was when I left him to go on my mission to Florida in 1961—no feeding tube, no respirator, only one IV and a catheter to keep him tethered. He was up twice yesterday and they are threatening to have him walking today. He said it was a great feeling to sit on a toilet again. Small pleasures. A week ago we all thought he might never walk, talk or go home. Kevin went to pick up Lindsay from BYU Idaho and took a suit in case he had to stay for a funeral. NOT. Steve got to talk to his missionary son Ryan last night to set up a time for a longer call this afternoon. What Joy! It's the best Christmas gift I've ever received. I imagine Ryan, Kathy, Jessica and Steve all agree. Let the heavens rejoice and the mountains shout for joy. (a new Christmas carol in the making?)
Betty Jane is not having such a pleasant Christmas. She started feeling sick at her stomach Thursday nite after the big mission Christmas party. She was off and on (literally) yesterday, but made it to the President's Mexican Christmas dinner yesterday, her insides in turmoil the whole time. She was sick all last night and today, so we haven't attempted to do Christmas. She got up and opened a birthday gift, ate a piece of toast and rushed to the bathroom and back to bed. I left her there while I walked over to the office to call Steve, therefore: good bye until tomorrow.
Tomorrow, Dec. 26, 2010
The stockings were hung by the TV on a chair, in hopes that Saint Nick would find them there. He did. We had a very nice Christmas in spite of sickness. Later in the day BJ got up and dressed; we opened our gifts and went to the office about 8:30 pm to skype the family. We got to talk to everyone. Emily had four families at her house and Kevin's was in Orlando at Cindy's sister. We even got to talk to BJ's brother Thom in Arcata as a bonus. This sweet day was iced by a knock at our door right after we got home about 12:30 midnight. There stood our five missionaries with a sorry (beautiful) little (half-eaten), green homemade (delicious) cake with sprinkles and one huge white candle, singing Happy Birthday (Would you like a piece? No, Thanks. We . . .[laughter]). What a precious gift on top of all the other goodness. Our first mission Christmas. Memories in the bank. Gift wrapped.
The doorbell did ring,
And they did sing,
Happy Birthday to me.
A yummy cake,
Elder Maldanado had baked;
Five missionaries singing with glee.
What can I say?
They made my day.
They are THE BEST;
And I can attest--
The Lord's missionaries,
Have HEARTS of GOLD.
They serve and GIVE ALL;
They answered the call,
To serve in the Army of God.
WITH LOVE AND THANKS TO
Elder Acosta
Elder Stoddard
Elder Barlow
Elder Cummings
Elder Maldanado
From Hermana Pack
Strange sensation. A silent Christmas on the playground and in the streets. Where do they all go on Christmas? Not a creature was stirring. It was so eerie that I took a photo of a usually bustling street and not a soul in sight for blocks each direction. But. . . Day after Christmas, all those bikes we saw in the stores were in the streets, daddies teaching littles to ride, and the cutest electric kid car remotely controlled by Mom from a few steps behind. Now the playground is abustle again. Papa! Papa! Papa! (Kevin tells us that families stay up very late on Christmas eve, enjoying a big dinner, a walk with the kids about midnight while Santa comes, opening the gifts, playing and enjoying until maybe 4 am. Bianca says her family is wimps because they fold about 2 am. No wonder nobody was about on Christmas Day.)
BJ wasn't up to doing church today, very limp and washed out. I went, late, and there was Kevin's old missionary comp, Manny from 14 hours south. Surprize!! Can I visit your esposa? I called and warned her and while I was fielding all the get well wishes and collecting Christmas cards, notes, nuts, etc. from her friends, she was home putting on the best china and crystal and getting a roast and rice and gravy ready. We even had canned green beans. Again, our Latin friend did not know what gravy was, but seemed to enjoy every drop. To us it was strange to see him sop his bread in his ice cream. Different cultures. Different tastes. Same world. Same family. We had a wonderful afternoon with our friend and not a peep of complaint from BJ afterward. She's puny but better. What a woman.
Thanks to all who helped make this a very Merry Christmas for us. Yes, we missed being with all of you, but the Lord compensates and eases the hurt. Will we ask to go home two months early for BJ's 70th b-day next year? Can't say at this point. Stay tuned……….Probably not.
Thursday, Dec. 30th, pm
We have now skyped or phoned with many of you and have enjoyed the mini-movie our kids put together. When we get it downloaded we will show it to everybody. We loved it! I think it will be posted online for anyone who has 22 minutes to spare. Thanks again. Academy Awards are coming soon. What is the name of that golden man-statue? Out of sight, out of mind. So soon forgotten.
BJ got better and we celebrated our anniversary by going all the way across Santiago to the La Florida Center, a humungeous mall, for dinner at Ruby Tuesday's. Nice, but not quite up to snuff. I enjoyed my steak, but there is nothing like American beef. Ribeye just doesn't translate. It's like trying to explain a joke that is hilarious in your language and draws a blank stare when explained in another. Actually, that happens anytime you have to explain a joke, eh? We had a nice evening remembering 47 years. It's easy to look back from here. The memories flood. Sweetness.
Tuesday after our abbreviated pouch run we took another micro vacation to a little town at the end of the road, literally, called Pomaire, where the folks have been making pottery since the Jaredites landed. They now attract tourists in buses, taxis and cars and use their money to beautify the town and build nice infrastructure. We spent a leisurely afternoon strolling the streets, stepping over dogs and their leavings, buying a few things including a nice Ecuadorian Panama hat to shade my solar panel, eating an authentic Chilean meal on the balcony of the San Francisco restaurant overlooking the tin roofs with holes cut for the smoke from the kilns to escape.
We got kind of lost getting there. We went to the end of the road, then a couple of miles further, then another smaller dirtier track which turned into a path. After backtracking and taking the other fork we found our town. Turns out there is a nice paved highway the other tourists took, but they missed the beautiful little valley with farms, orchards, canals, corn as high as an elephant's eye, Lantana hedges ten feet tall, animals and people staring and sniggering at the lost gringos. Just as we were negotiating a turn-around on a rickety canal bridge here comes a taxi roaring up the trail in a cloud of dust delivering a local couple back from somewhere more exciting, but I dare say not as beautiful and peaceful. They don't know what they've got in this little paradise at the end of the road. When you come to visit we will take you there and to the pottery town.
Last night we hosted our third of four holiday dinner parties in our miniature mansion. Another of Kevin's missionary companions, Andres Toledo and his family, five in all, spent three very pleasant hours with us. They are dear friends, the parents of Bianca our adopted granddaughter, now two years into her BYU education. They have a two year old who is just a smidge shy of being spoiled. She took over and made herself at home with the Lays and ice cream. The others were introduced to roast and rice and gravy. Again, none had any notion of making or eating gravy, but they licked the pot clean and probably would have called for more, had BJ not offered them a choice of peach cobbler or strawberry topped cheesecake, two more exciting new culinary treats. They left a few crumbs of cheesecake and a little cobbler for my midnight snack.
Tomorrow night we have the missionaries for New Year's Eve sloppy Joes, potato chips and watermelon—just like the 4th of July! Wish we could find some dill pickle slices. BJ is reminding me that we have to go to the big government place early tomorrow to wait in line all day to pick up our visas and ID cards and numbers and become legal aliens, so I'm signing off for now. I'll let you know how it goes and tell you about dealing with the customs office trying to retrieve the other Christmas package our family sent. . . . . . . .
Friday, Dec. 31st
Well, it's tomorrow night, and WE ARE LEGAL ALIENS!! We are now classed as temporary residents, with an ID number and a temporary card. Now they say we can do business, and it only took half a day waiting in pretty short lines at four government buildings, the longest being only 23 with less than an hour's wait. We walked a lot, then had to take a cab because of BJ's sore foot, but we got 'er done. We were photographed twice, fingerprinted twice (we are already in the FBI's AFIS file if they want to look), and faced a number of government functionaries, most of whom were remarkably friendly, considering our alien status. We had Spanish speaking Elders at our side all through the process, but many of the clerks addressed us directly and when we understood them we answered for ourselves. I went right out and bought a mobile internet router. We have internet at home, or anywhere else we want it. We have our rights. Now we can own a car and get it insured and buy a toll pass and quit saying “we don't have a RUT number yet”.
The experience at the airport customs office was not so nice. Our family sent two Christmas packages, one of which was delivered, no problema. The other we got a notice that it was being held for unexplained (still) reasons. We have spent three half-days, countless miles, and the time of a dear Elder, who proclaimed, “I will get your package.” At one point we paid $16 dollars for a stamped and initialed receipt authorizing us to go to the airport and get our package. We did and got the royal runaround by a guy (the 5th or 6th we were sent to that day-typical) who probably hates his job and didn't want to bother looking for the goods. He would not/could not tell us why the package was held and said he could not release it because it was addressed to “Elder and Hermana Pack” and my passport says Blair Philip Pack. No amount of reasoning that Elder is a title and not a name would sway him. He wanted some proof beyond my badge and missionary ID that I am indeed Elder Pack. This was a very thinly veiled cover for his unwillingness to GO GET THE PACKAGE! Finally he agreed to resend it to the post office to which it was addressed and let them collect the $61 dollar fine—FOR WHAT? That was two days ago. I frankly don't expect we will ever see the package. We picked up 18 today, a new daily record. We have handled hundreds of packages and letters addressed to Elder or Hermana someone or other and none of them have encountered this problem. By the way, USPS Priority Mail, is still the best way to send stuff. UPS and DHL and FEDEX have to be picked up at the airport and have all been even more problematic then Uncle Sam and they all have to pass Chilean customs inspections.
Sunday, Jan. 2nd
You might not know it,
But we have two poets.
Two folks;
Different strokes.
Sing praises for the Sunday Afternoon Nap!
Praise Him who created it.
Thank Him for his mercy.
Be grateful when the kids are big enough or small enough to allow it.
Enjoy it at every opportunity.
Neglect it at your own peril.
[now note the reversal and repeating]
Great are the benefits thereof.
Do it every week if you can.
It will bring peace and calmness to your family.
It is a wonderful gift.
The God of Heaven is it's giver.
Ahhhhhhhh, the Sunday Snooze. Hallelujah!
It is called an Haiku, an ancient X shaped, repeating, poetic form common in the Bible, and Surprize! in the Book of Mormon, too. The X shape is not usually shown, but would be helpful. The whole book of Mosiah is an haiku along with many other poetic passages. How did young Joseph know about haiku? It wasn't even discovered until about the time he published THE BOOK and he probably never heard of it. What a genius OR what an inspired prophet who translated an ancient Hebrew-based record just as he claimed. Which takes more faith to believe?- that he made it all up or that he did what he said he did?
Sunday at the Rama Las Lomas, lots of hugs, greetings for the New Year voiced in various ways we are beginning to understand, an opening hymn we have never heard before about Another Year is Passed, sung hesitantly at first, gaining confidence and volume until by the third we are all into it with gusto. Me gusta! I am now officially second counselor in the young men presidency, although it can't be an official calling because we aren't members of the branch, but I got to teach the lesson I prepared four weeks ago, got a new manual, and am already friends with Pablo the president's counselor and the AP boys. I offered them my “old” ties, replaced by the beauties I got for Christmas. They weren't so sure, but each took one after some urging. We'll see if they actually wear them. I love my new ones. Thanks. Good choices. I got lots of compliments this week. I like the attention. And the leftover Appleby's ribs from yesterday's Cena Ano Nuevo or New Year's Supper.
The skyping last nite was a little disappointing in picture quality, but we loved doing it from home. I looked like the “Scream” man in the ?Edvard Munch? painting. Poor Ella ran from the room. We'll check into an upgrade and try different locations. Our telephone does not work in our bedroom. Maybe skype will work better in another room. We may have to skype from the playground. Our phone works better out there. Internet seems to work just fine.
Just talked with Kevin who says Steve is going HOME tomorrow and back to work in 2 to 6 weeks!! Un ano nuevo milagro! Thanks again for all your prayers.
Is this long email thing becoming just another Facebook or reality show? Feedback from both my followers is welcomed.
We love you more and more. Is it even possible? We pray for all of you every night and morning and in between and we feel your prayers. That keeps us going. We love our mission more and more.
ALL OUR LOVE, HUGS, KISSES, SNUGGLES, BACK SCRATCHES AND SMILES TO Y'ALL.
GRAMMY AND GRAMPS
It's Christmas day and I'm starting a new email; just finished one last night. A couple of things have changed. I just talked to my brother, Steve, for over 20 minutes from his hospital chair. He was eating a bowl of Cheerios just as he was when I left him to go on my mission to Florida in 1961—no feeding tube, no respirator, only one IV and a catheter to keep him tethered. He was up twice yesterday and they are threatening to have him walking today. He said it was a great feeling to sit on a toilet again. Small pleasures. A week ago we all thought he might never walk, talk or go home. Kevin went to pick up Lindsay from BYU Idaho and took a suit in case he had to stay for a funeral. NOT. Steve got to talk to his missionary son Ryan last night to set up a time for a longer call this afternoon. What Joy! It's the best Christmas gift I've ever received. I imagine Ryan, Kathy, Jessica and Steve all agree. Let the heavens rejoice and the mountains shout for joy. (a new Christmas carol in the making?)
Betty Jane is not having such a pleasant Christmas. She started feeling sick at her stomach Thursday nite after the big mission Christmas party. She was off and on (literally) yesterday, but made it to the President's Mexican Christmas dinner yesterday, her insides in turmoil the whole time. She was sick all last night and today, so we haven't attempted to do Christmas. She got up and opened a birthday gift, ate a piece of toast and rushed to the bathroom and back to bed. I left her there while I walked over to the office to call Steve, therefore: good bye until tomorrow.
Tomorrow, Dec. 26, 2010
The stockings were hung by the TV on a chair, in hopes that Saint Nick would find them there. He did. We had a very nice Christmas in spite of sickness. Later in the day BJ got up and dressed; we opened our gifts and went to the office about 8:30 pm to skype the family. We got to talk to everyone. Emily had four families at her house and Kevin's was in Orlando at Cindy's sister. We even got to talk to BJ's brother Thom in Arcata as a bonus. This sweet day was iced by a knock at our door right after we got home about 12:30 midnight. There stood our five missionaries with a sorry (beautiful) little (half-eaten), green homemade (delicious) cake with sprinkles and one huge white candle, singing Happy Birthday (Would you like a piece? No, Thanks. We . . .[laughter]). What a precious gift on top of all the other goodness. Our first mission Christmas. Memories in the bank. Gift wrapped.
The doorbell did ring,
And they did sing,
Happy Birthday to me.
A yummy cake,
Elder Maldanado had baked;
Five missionaries singing with glee.
What can I say?
They made my day.
They are THE BEST;
And I can attest--
The Lord's missionaries,
Have HEARTS of GOLD.
They serve and GIVE ALL;
They answered the call,
To serve in the Army of God.
WITH LOVE AND THANKS TO
Elder Acosta
Elder Stoddard
Elder Barlow
Elder Cummings
Elder Maldanado
From Hermana Pack
Strange sensation. A silent Christmas on the playground and in the streets. Where do they all go on Christmas? Not a creature was stirring. It was so eerie that I took a photo of a usually bustling street and not a soul in sight for blocks each direction. But. . . Day after Christmas, all those bikes we saw in the stores were in the streets, daddies teaching littles to ride, and the cutest electric kid car remotely controlled by Mom from a few steps behind. Now the playground is abustle again. Papa! Papa! Papa! (Kevin tells us that families stay up very late on Christmas eve, enjoying a big dinner, a walk with the kids about midnight while Santa comes, opening the gifts, playing and enjoying until maybe 4 am. Bianca says her family is wimps because they fold about 2 am. No wonder nobody was about on Christmas Day.)
BJ wasn't up to doing church today, very limp and washed out. I went, late, and there was Kevin's old missionary comp, Manny from 14 hours south. Surprize!! Can I visit your esposa? I called and warned her and while I was fielding all the get well wishes and collecting Christmas cards, notes, nuts, etc. from her friends, she was home putting on the best china and crystal and getting a roast and rice and gravy ready. We even had canned green beans. Again, our Latin friend did not know what gravy was, but seemed to enjoy every drop. To us it was strange to see him sop his bread in his ice cream. Different cultures. Different tastes. Same world. Same family. We had a wonderful afternoon with our friend and not a peep of complaint from BJ afterward. She's puny but better. What a woman.
Thanks to all who helped make this a very Merry Christmas for us. Yes, we missed being with all of you, but the Lord compensates and eases the hurt. Will we ask to go home two months early for BJ's 70th b-day next year? Can't say at this point. Stay tuned……….Probably not.
Thursday, Dec. 30th, pm
We have now skyped or phoned with many of you and have enjoyed the mini-movie our kids put together. When we get it downloaded we will show it to everybody. We loved it! I think it will be posted online for anyone who has 22 minutes to spare. Thanks again. Academy Awards are coming soon. What is the name of that golden man-statue? Out of sight, out of mind. So soon forgotten.
BJ got better and we celebrated our anniversary by going all the way across Santiago to the La Florida Center, a humungeous mall, for dinner at Ruby Tuesday's. Nice, but not quite up to snuff. I enjoyed my steak, but there is nothing like American beef. Ribeye just doesn't translate. It's like trying to explain a joke that is hilarious in your language and draws a blank stare when explained in another. Actually, that happens anytime you have to explain a joke, eh? We had a nice evening remembering 47 years. It's easy to look back from here. The memories flood. Sweetness.
Tuesday after our abbreviated pouch run we took another micro vacation to a little town at the end of the road, literally, called Pomaire, where the folks have been making pottery since the Jaredites landed. They now attract tourists in buses, taxis and cars and use their money to beautify the town and build nice infrastructure. We spent a leisurely afternoon strolling the streets, stepping over dogs and their leavings, buying a few things including a nice Ecuadorian Panama hat to shade my solar panel, eating an authentic Chilean meal on the balcony of the San Francisco restaurant overlooking the tin roofs with holes cut for the smoke from the kilns to escape.
We got kind of lost getting there. We went to the end of the road, then a couple of miles further, then another smaller dirtier track which turned into a path. After backtracking and taking the other fork we found our town. Turns out there is a nice paved highway the other tourists took, but they missed the beautiful little valley with farms, orchards, canals, corn as high as an elephant's eye, Lantana hedges ten feet tall, animals and people staring and sniggering at the lost gringos. Just as we were negotiating a turn-around on a rickety canal bridge here comes a taxi roaring up the trail in a cloud of dust delivering a local couple back from somewhere more exciting, but I dare say not as beautiful and peaceful. They don't know what they've got in this little paradise at the end of the road. When you come to visit we will take you there and to the pottery town.
Last night we hosted our third of four holiday dinner parties in our miniature mansion. Another of Kevin's missionary companions, Andres Toledo and his family, five in all, spent three very pleasant hours with us. They are dear friends, the parents of Bianca our adopted granddaughter, now two years into her BYU education. They have a two year old who is just a smidge shy of being spoiled. She took over and made herself at home with the Lays and ice cream. The others were introduced to roast and rice and gravy. Again, none had any notion of making or eating gravy, but they licked the pot clean and probably would have called for more, had BJ not offered them a choice of peach cobbler or strawberry topped cheesecake, two more exciting new culinary treats. They left a few crumbs of cheesecake and a little cobbler for my midnight snack.
Tomorrow night we have the missionaries for New Year's Eve sloppy Joes, potato chips and watermelon—just like the 4th of July! Wish we could find some dill pickle slices. BJ is reminding me that we have to go to the big government place early tomorrow to wait in line all day to pick up our visas and ID cards and numbers and become legal aliens, so I'm signing off for now. I'll let you know how it goes and tell you about dealing with the customs office trying to retrieve the other Christmas package our family sent. . . . . . . .
Friday, Dec. 31st
Well, it's tomorrow night, and WE ARE LEGAL ALIENS!! We are now classed as temporary residents, with an ID number and a temporary card. Now they say we can do business, and it only took half a day waiting in pretty short lines at four government buildings, the longest being only 23 with less than an hour's wait. We walked a lot, then had to take a cab because of BJ's sore foot, but we got 'er done. We were photographed twice, fingerprinted twice (we are already in the FBI's AFIS file if they want to look), and faced a number of government functionaries, most of whom were remarkably friendly, considering our alien status. We had Spanish speaking Elders at our side all through the process, but many of the clerks addressed us directly and when we understood them we answered for ourselves. I went right out and bought a mobile internet router. We have internet at home, or anywhere else we want it. We have our rights. Now we can own a car and get it insured and buy a toll pass and quit saying “we don't have a RUT number yet”.
The experience at the airport customs office was not so nice. Our family sent two Christmas packages, one of which was delivered, no problema. The other we got a notice that it was being held for unexplained (still) reasons. We have spent three half-days, countless miles, and the time of a dear Elder, who proclaimed, “I will get your package.” At one point we paid $16 dollars for a stamped and initialed receipt authorizing us to go to the airport and get our package. We did and got the royal runaround by a guy (the 5th or 6th we were sent to that day-typical) who probably hates his job and didn't want to bother looking for the goods. He would not/could not tell us why the package was held and said he could not release it because it was addressed to “Elder and Hermana Pack” and my passport says Blair Philip Pack. No amount of reasoning that Elder is a title and not a name would sway him. He wanted some proof beyond my badge and missionary ID that I am indeed Elder Pack. This was a very thinly veiled cover for his unwillingness to GO GET THE PACKAGE! Finally he agreed to resend it to the post office to which it was addressed and let them collect the $61 dollar fine—FOR WHAT? That was two days ago. I frankly don't expect we will ever see the package. We picked up 18 today, a new daily record. We have handled hundreds of packages and letters addressed to Elder or Hermana someone or other and none of them have encountered this problem. By the way, USPS Priority Mail, is still the best way to send stuff. UPS and DHL and FEDEX have to be picked up at the airport and have all been even more problematic then Uncle Sam and they all have to pass Chilean customs inspections.
Sunday, Jan. 2nd
You might not know it,
But we have two poets.
Two folks;
Different strokes.
Sing praises for the Sunday Afternoon Nap!
Praise Him who created it.
Thank Him for his mercy.
Be grateful when the kids are big enough or small enough to allow it.
Enjoy it at every opportunity.
Neglect it at your own peril.
[now note the reversal and repeating]
Great are the benefits thereof.
Do it every week if you can.
It will bring peace and calmness to your family.
It is a wonderful gift.
The God of Heaven is it's giver.
Ahhhhhhhh, the Sunday Snooze. Hallelujah!
It is called an Haiku, an ancient X shaped, repeating, poetic form common in the Bible, and Surprize! in the Book of Mormon, too. The X shape is not usually shown, but would be helpful. The whole book of Mosiah is an haiku along with many other poetic passages. How did young Joseph know about haiku? It wasn't even discovered until about the time he published THE BOOK and he probably never heard of it. What a genius OR what an inspired prophet who translated an ancient Hebrew-based record just as he claimed. Which takes more faith to believe?- that he made it all up or that he did what he said he did?
Sunday at the Rama Las Lomas, lots of hugs, greetings for the New Year voiced in various ways we are beginning to understand, an opening hymn we have never heard before about Another Year is Passed, sung hesitantly at first, gaining confidence and volume until by the third we are all into it with gusto. Me gusta! I am now officially second counselor in the young men presidency, although it can't be an official calling because we aren't members of the branch, but I got to teach the lesson I prepared four weeks ago, got a new manual, and am already friends with Pablo the president's counselor and the AP boys. I offered them my “old” ties, replaced by the beauties I got for Christmas. They weren't so sure, but each took one after some urging. We'll see if they actually wear them. I love my new ones. Thanks. Good choices. I got lots of compliments this week. I like the attention. And the leftover Appleby's ribs from yesterday's Cena Ano Nuevo or New Year's Supper.
The skyping last nite was a little disappointing in picture quality, but we loved doing it from home. I looked like the “Scream” man in the ?Edvard Munch? painting. Poor Ella ran from the room. We'll check into an upgrade and try different locations. Our telephone does not work in our bedroom. Maybe skype will work better in another room. We may have to skype from the playground. Our phone works better out there. Internet seems to work just fine.
Just talked with Kevin who says Steve is going HOME tomorrow and back to work in 2 to 6 weeks!! Un ano nuevo milagro! Thanks again for all your prayers.
Is this long email thing becoming just another Facebook or reality show? Feedback from both my followers is welcomed.
We love you more and more. Is it even possible? We pray for all of you every night and morning and in between and we feel your prayers. That keeps us going. We love our mission more and more.
ALL OUR LOVE, HUGS, KISSES, SNUGGLES, BACK SCRATCHES AND SMILES TO Y'ALL.
GRAMMY AND GRAMPS
Monday, December 27, 2010
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Merry Christmas!
Feliz Navidad amigos y familiares!
Oh, technology...isn't it wonderful. The following link is to a video we filmed on Thanksgiving Day to celebrate Christmas and Mom's birthday virtually with them. Caroling, a live nativity with a Christmas reading and birthday wishes (and cake) galore! It is 22 minutes long and is our way of "being with them".
A special thanks to Kevin for his editing of the project. We wish you all a very Merry Christmas!
The link: http://gallery.me.com/kbpack#100147 Choose the Happy Birthday & Merry Christmas movie and select the large option (it is the most recent update). Enjoy.
Oh, technology...isn't it wonderful. The following link is to a video we filmed on Thanksgiving Day to celebrate Christmas and Mom's birthday virtually with them. Caroling, a live nativity with a Christmas reading and birthday wishes (and cake) galore! It is 22 minutes long and is our way of "being with them".
A special thanks to Kevin for his editing of the project. We wish you all a very Merry Christmas!
The link: http://gallery.me.com/kbpack#100147 Choose the Happy Birthday & Merry Christmas movie and select the large option (it is the most recent update). Enjoy.
Happy Birthday!
Mom, best wishes for a very Happy Birthday on this Christmas Day. We will virtually celebrate with you. Enjoy your video. We love you!
 |
| December 25, 2008 |
Friday, December 24, 2010
December 24, 2010
They are calling it the children's Christmas party. Pink and blue balloons, loud radio music, a blow-up play castle and a pint-sized tub of ice cream for each child. We contributed a few bucks two weeks ago when they sold pizzetas and completos. Lots of kids and parents having a good time on the apartment playground Sunday afternoon. Maybe Santa will make an appearance later. Otherwise how will we know it's a Christmas party? But wait. . .Maria from Australia has on a little Santa hat with her sun dress. A dead giveaway. Feliz Navidad everyone!!
I'm at the little desk by the open window again trying to write, but my heart is not in it. My brother's heart is fighting for life in a hospital a million miles away and I am totally helpless to do anything but pray. Thank you for joining me. Steve collapsed Thursday night after the Tabernacle Choir Christmas broadcast, was rushed to the hospital, and has been in extremely critical condition in a drug induced coma, from which he may or may not awake. His life is in the balance. His heart has stopped several times since that first attack. I hope before I finish this in the next few days I have better news to report. Right now he is a very sick man getting the best care they can give, kept alive with machines, 18 IV's, and the prayers of many. His son Ryan is on a mission somewhere in Guatamala excited to call home for Christmas and talk to his dad. My heart goes out to him.
Last night we went to the mission office to call Delores on the office phone, our only line out, for the latest report. After we finished the call all five of the office elders crowded into our little mail room and proposed to fast for Steve today after their dinner appointments. They hugged me like sons; their eyes were as wet as ours; we love these young men; our hearts were touched and knit together in love. This morning the President's wife called to check. As people at church found out they too rallied round us. Literally. We were surrounded. We have no family here, but we have a great family here. They bear our burdens and share our grief. We feel such love for and from all of them.
The Christmas program in the branch consisted of my tie, Mom's YW lesson of Luke 2 and Christmas carols for one girl, and the Cerda family and I singing “Angels We Have Heard on High” in Sacrament meeting. The chorister didn't know the sacrament hymn, nor did 98 percent of the people so she sat down in tears half way through the second verse, leaving BJ playing on in puzzlement. What's a girl to do? The first counselor got up and finished the hymn; the chorister was ok for the closing hymn. Maybe this has happened before. Wish they'd put Mom in charge next year. I have marveled at her Christmas programs for the last 47 years. She works miracles and Emily is following in her footsteps.
Last night I played Santa's helper at the Los Libertedores Ward party. BJ had told her friend Bristella that I was Santa in the US and offered my services. The Primary President had a suit big enough. I had tried to buy one, but none fit. I found four stores on one street selling them from puppy size to almost big enough. I'll probably have one made for next year, or next week. They are cheap, ten to fifteen dollars, and Beth had sent the critical stuff for the face and head.
The ward program was sweet with all the children decked out in fine costumes of angels, shepherds, wise men, wooly lambs and spotted cows, and a real baby Jesus who played his part perfectly without a peep. They make the most beautiful costumes, good enough for the real stage-- no towel turbans and bathrobed shepherds, but silky, shiny wise men and the sweetest Mary you've ever seen rocking her baby and cooing him into tranquility. The stars in the heavens kept falling down but the show must go on and did to loud acclaim from an appreciative audience of parents and grandparents.
Santa was nervous and pretty much speechless, but the kids just lined up for their bag of candy. He said “Feliz Navidad. Te Amo” and they said “Gracias”. They didn't care if Santa was a foreigner; the parents loved it. Thursday he appears live at the mission wide Christmas party. I've got to get more Super 8 candy bars and gum filled Tip Pops; I gave mine all away after church today. They rushed me once the word got around that Santa from the US was attending church in Chile this morning.
The condo party has deteriorated into balloon popping and little kids crying, sure signs that it's about over. I guess Santa didn't get the memo. No one seemed to miss him.
In the stores and on the streets of downtown Maipu there are signs of Christmas, but the mall Santa looks like he got run over by a reindeer. In our neighborhood, some houses have a few lights, always blinking, and last night we saw a street with half a dozen houses in a row with icicle lights on the eaves, but other whole streets without a single light, only one nice manger scene in a yard with a decorated door. We have a pretty wreath with a red ribbon on our door. Inside, a small tree, a cute manger scene, and table décor of candles, red runner and placemats, etc. it's festive.
Here in the condo at night it looks like Las Vegas. The only non-blinkers are the gaudy red lights to our left. We have no balcony, hence no outside lights. Across the way the lead contender for Lights of the Year has all kinds of lights, tinsel, a tree, and fluffy cottony angels and dozens of golden stars hanging from the ceiling twirling in the breeze, as Santa descends from a cottony cloud. Amazing what you can do to decorate a 4 by 6 space. Get with it folks, only five more days 'till Christmas.
At church I seemed to be the only one wishing “Feliz Navidad”, but when I did people brightened up and laughed. Try it; you'll like it. It's not an anti religious thing here, just not a big tradition. Santa comes, leaves something, Christmas dinner, and life goes on. School is out for the summer. Let's go to the beach.
BJ and I hope to do just that next week for our Anniversary trip. We are told you can drive up and get a room without a reservation for the next two weeks, then it gets really crowded. Think we'll try it after we get our deliveries made. Can senior missionaries go swimming? We'll ask, but maybe not till after we get back.
A breakthrough. Bishop Rivera with whom we have lunch on Wednesdays speaks only Spanish and only to those who likewise speak Spanish. Therefore he does not speak to me. We've been going there for three months. His daughter teaches in an English speaking school here and for 5 years in Arizona. His wife wants to and tries to speak English. Not a lonely Anglo syllable from him. Until last night after his ward party and Santa (dressed down) was packing up to leave. Face to face he smiled, said “Merry Christmas” and hugged me!! The ice cracked a little. I think he understands the language of the heart. Maybe our language skills are better than we thought.
The fruity news. I didn't think I'd ever get through all the fruit we bought last week, but his morning I finished the last of it, except half a little pale green softball sized melon, like a honeydew, which I will lick up this evening. We have sliced and frozen sugared strawberries just in case we can't buy them all year. We had our first watermelon on Wednesday at Bristella's lunch.
Lunch is the main sit down meal of the day, served between 2 and 4 pm. Kids go home for lunch and don't go back to school. Missionaries eat with members virtually every day; members are expected to feed them, well; and they do. After lunch is prime proselyting time. Our missionaries aren't expected to do much missionary work outside the apartment before lunch, then work late into the night when people are at home relaxing. They told me on my mission that the Holy Ghost went to bed at 10:00 o'clock; guess He stays up later in Chile. Fits my internal clock.
I think Santa is about to show. Maria is clapping and calling the ninos to gather; they are chanting something and looking toward the front entrance. The kids last night called Santa with the same chant and song. Call louder. He can't hear you all the way from the North Pole. I think I hear his sleigh bells. Louder. Stronger. Keep trying.-------------------------
OK smart alec, take it all back. Santa showed all right, tacky beard and all, and did a wonderful job if Santa2 says so himself. The Committee had bought individual gifts for each child. Santa sat as names were called and kids great and small came forward for their gift and obligatory foto. Grateful kids hugged him; frightened babies protested having to sit on his lap; parents clapped. There was joy all around, except for two kids dragging their faces behind them who walked by our window (we were leaning out the bedroom window taking it all in.). I guess their parents opted out for whatever reasons. I'm guessing about 50 kids each got a nicely wrapped gift, Barbies, GI Joes, playground balls, fit the shaped pieces into the right hole thingys, dart games, nice stuff, age and gender appropriate—thoughtfully done. Santa spent a HAPPY half hour with the kids. Another first class event. Thanks to Maria, the condo mover and shaker. My apologies.
Maria waved at us, threw us kisses, came over to our window and talked. They had trouble getting a Santa; her son was going to do it and had a last minute conflict, but they found a neighbor. Guess who they have lined up for next year? You got it. Now I've got to get a suit made or brought from home. And, by then Santa will be able to speak to los ninos in their own language. Gladly. I'm looking forward to it. Real gifts; not candy canes and chew pops. Santa brightened my day. My heart is healed for a while. I want to be like him. Thanks Santa, and Maria, and our Dear Father for a sweet and tender mercy.
The blow up slide and palace are gone but the laughter and joy remain. Merry Christmas everyone. And to all a good night.
Friday, Dec. 24th at the office:
I was really frustrated and depressed for a couple of days, but then a miracle happened. A Christmas miracle. A missionary miracle. Thanks for all your faith and fasting and prayers. My brother, Steve, is awake, off the ventilator and most of the IV's and is talking. I hope to talk to him in person over the weekend and wish him A VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS. The doctors and nurses didn't give us much hope on Sunday, and Monday they did a complete reversal. He is not out of the woods, but is standing at the edge of the trees looking out at the meadow, getting ready to take the next step into the warm sunshine of LIFE! So far it appears that his mind and heart and other organs are working. With every miracle there is an element of mystery because we just can't explain everything. The doctors can't. I can't. You can't. I just accept it as a miracle without asking how or why. Thank God.
The mail tally for 8 weeks leading up to Christmas. . . .
• 58 Latinos and 1 Gringo got no mail, zero letters, 00 packages
• 17 Latinos and 4 Gringos got only one lousy letter/package
• 5 Latinos and 29 Gringos got between 2 to 5 items; this includes about 50 who came or left 1 week or 7 weeks ago
• 36 Gringos got from 6-14 the most any Latino got was 5
• 8 Gringos got from 15 -29 Two tied with 29 each and more on the way no doubt.
I don't know who gets email and some Chilean elders get their stuff delivered by family or friends who come to the temple, etc. One elder who arrived three days ago had a package and ten letters waiting here for him.
Yesterday was the all-mission all-day Christmas party, starting with homemade hot donuts, several hundred fried in two pans because we blew a fuse and couldn't find the breaker. A movie and a looooong area Presidency/General Authority talk about Joseph Smith and a ton of evidence that he was and did what he said he did and was. Very convincing, but the mind can only absorb as much as the seat can endure. Then a very nice lunch of roast beef, turkey, broccoli, mashed potatoes with a drop of “gravy”, and a table full of dessert choices. Well done. We all brought something not very worthwhile and left with something worth even less after the white elephant/silly Santa gift exchange. My Mississippi tee shirt was one of the favorites along with Michael Jackson and Minnie Mouse towels. I got a key chain. Mom's program was wonderful. Half the mission (85) was in the choir and the other half in the audience. She knows what she's doing and what she wants and how to get it out of people who don't really know what to do next and have never practiced together. She signals and animates and holds up signs and points and mimes and mouths her instructions and they are so enraptured watching her that it goes off without a hitch, except the violin player who had to improvise at times. At the end of a 12 hour party Santa finally came with a bag full of TipPops, photos, laughing, and 200 suckers later we finally went home and crashed.
Mom invited her (3) young women to our place (palace) for pizza, salad, pop and cheesecake. Of course she had decorations and candles and gifts. We picked them up at the church and chauffeured them to and from in our red chariot. They had a ball. We talked, sort of, laughed, ate, and had a grand time. We wonder what they thought of it all. We've never seen where or how they live, but I'm sure it's different from ours. After they washed their hands they came from the bathroom smelling the perfumed soap in the pump bottle. That gave us a little hint. We love them and they love us and we gladly gave and they gladly received the leftover pizza.
It's Christmas Eve. We're going to the King/President's house for Mexican after we Skype for an hour or two. WE LOVE AND MISS YOU ALL , BUT WE ARE HAVING A MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HOPE YOU ALL WILL TOO. REJOICE!!
PS: Tomorrow I'm taking Mom out for her Birthday dinner at the fanciest restaurant I can find. Just hope it's not Mikey Dee's. We hear that lots of places are open on Christmas—for the money. We have turned down two dinner invites to do this. (Together Forever)
LOVE, MOM AND DAD
I'm at the little desk by the open window again trying to write, but my heart is not in it. My brother's heart is fighting for life in a hospital a million miles away and I am totally helpless to do anything but pray. Thank you for joining me. Steve collapsed Thursday night after the Tabernacle Choir Christmas broadcast, was rushed to the hospital, and has been in extremely critical condition in a drug induced coma, from which he may or may not awake. His life is in the balance. His heart has stopped several times since that first attack. I hope before I finish this in the next few days I have better news to report. Right now he is a very sick man getting the best care they can give, kept alive with machines, 18 IV's, and the prayers of many. His son Ryan is on a mission somewhere in Guatamala excited to call home for Christmas and talk to his dad. My heart goes out to him.
Last night we went to the mission office to call Delores on the office phone, our only line out, for the latest report. After we finished the call all five of the office elders crowded into our little mail room and proposed to fast for Steve today after their dinner appointments. They hugged me like sons; their eyes were as wet as ours; we love these young men; our hearts were touched and knit together in love. This morning the President's wife called to check. As people at church found out they too rallied round us. Literally. We were surrounded. We have no family here, but we have a great family here. They bear our burdens and share our grief. We feel such love for and from all of them.
The Christmas program in the branch consisted of my tie, Mom's YW lesson of Luke 2 and Christmas carols for one girl, and the Cerda family and I singing “Angels We Have Heard on High” in Sacrament meeting. The chorister didn't know the sacrament hymn, nor did 98 percent of the people so she sat down in tears half way through the second verse, leaving BJ playing on in puzzlement. What's a girl to do? The first counselor got up and finished the hymn; the chorister was ok for the closing hymn. Maybe this has happened before. Wish they'd put Mom in charge next year. I have marveled at her Christmas programs for the last 47 years. She works miracles and Emily is following in her footsteps.
Last night I played Santa's helper at the Los Libertedores Ward party. BJ had told her friend Bristella that I was Santa in the US and offered my services. The Primary President had a suit big enough. I had tried to buy one, but none fit. I found four stores on one street selling them from puppy size to almost big enough. I'll probably have one made for next year, or next week. They are cheap, ten to fifteen dollars, and Beth had sent the critical stuff for the face and head.
The ward program was sweet with all the children decked out in fine costumes of angels, shepherds, wise men, wooly lambs and spotted cows, and a real baby Jesus who played his part perfectly without a peep. They make the most beautiful costumes, good enough for the real stage-- no towel turbans and bathrobed shepherds, but silky, shiny wise men and the sweetest Mary you've ever seen rocking her baby and cooing him into tranquility. The stars in the heavens kept falling down but the show must go on and did to loud acclaim from an appreciative audience of parents and grandparents.
Santa was nervous and pretty much speechless, but the kids just lined up for their bag of candy. He said “Feliz Navidad. Te Amo” and they said “Gracias”. They didn't care if Santa was a foreigner; the parents loved it. Thursday he appears live at the mission wide Christmas party. I've got to get more Super 8 candy bars and gum filled Tip Pops; I gave mine all away after church today. They rushed me once the word got around that Santa from the US was attending church in Chile this morning.
The condo party has deteriorated into balloon popping and little kids crying, sure signs that it's about over. I guess Santa didn't get the memo. No one seemed to miss him.
In the stores and on the streets of downtown Maipu there are signs of Christmas, but the mall Santa looks like he got run over by a reindeer. In our neighborhood, some houses have a few lights, always blinking, and last night we saw a street with half a dozen houses in a row with icicle lights on the eaves, but other whole streets without a single light, only one nice manger scene in a yard with a decorated door. We have a pretty wreath with a red ribbon on our door. Inside, a small tree, a cute manger scene, and table décor of candles, red runner and placemats, etc. it's festive.
Here in the condo at night it looks like Las Vegas. The only non-blinkers are the gaudy red lights to our left. We have no balcony, hence no outside lights. Across the way the lead contender for Lights of the Year has all kinds of lights, tinsel, a tree, and fluffy cottony angels and dozens of golden stars hanging from the ceiling twirling in the breeze, as Santa descends from a cottony cloud. Amazing what you can do to decorate a 4 by 6 space. Get with it folks, only five more days 'till Christmas.
At church I seemed to be the only one wishing “Feliz Navidad”, but when I did people brightened up and laughed. Try it; you'll like it. It's not an anti religious thing here, just not a big tradition. Santa comes, leaves something, Christmas dinner, and life goes on. School is out for the summer. Let's go to the beach.
BJ and I hope to do just that next week for our Anniversary trip. We are told you can drive up and get a room without a reservation for the next two weeks, then it gets really crowded. Think we'll try it after we get our deliveries made. Can senior missionaries go swimming? We'll ask, but maybe not till after we get back.
A breakthrough. Bishop Rivera with whom we have lunch on Wednesdays speaks only Spanish and only to those who likewise speak Spanish. Therefore he does not speak to me. We've been going there for three months. His daughter teaches in an English speaking school here and for 5 years in Arizona. His wife wants to and tries to speak English. Not a lonely Anglo syllable from him. Until last night after his ward party and Santa (dressed down) was packing up to leave. Face to face he smiled, said “Merry Christmas” and hugged me!! The ice cracked a little. I think he understands the language of the heart. Maybe our language skills are better than we thought.
The fruity news. I didn't think I'd ever get through all the fruit we bought last week, but his morning I finished the last of it, except half a little pale green softball sized melon, like a honeydew, which I will lick up this evening. We have sliced and frozen sugared strawberries just in case we can't buy them all year. We had our first watermelon on Wednesday at Bristella's lunch.
Lunch is the main sit down meal of the day, served between 2 and 4 pm. Kids go home for lunch and don't go back to school. Missionaries eat with members virtually every day; members are expected to feed them, well; and they do. After lunch is prime proselyting time. Our missionaries aren't expected to do much missionary work outside the apartment before lunch, then work late into the night when people are at home relaxing. They told me on my mission that the Holy Ghost went to bed at 10:00 o'clock; guess He stays up later in Chile. Fits my internal clock.
I think Santa is about to show. Maria is clapping and calling the ninos to gather; they are chanting something and looking toward the front entrance. The kids last night called Santa with the same chant and song. Call louder. He can't hear you all the way from the North Pole. I think I hear his sleigh bells. Louder. Stronger. Keep trying.-------------------------
OK smart alec, take it all back. Santa showed all right, tacky beard and all, and did a wonderful job if Santa2 says so himself. The Committee had bought individual gifts for each child. Santa sat as names were called and kids great and small came forward for their gift and obligatory foto. Grateful kids hugged him; frightened babies protested having to sit on his lap; parents clapped. There was joy all around, except for two kids dragging their faces behind them who walked by our window (we were leaning out the bedroom window taking it all in.). I guess their parents opted out for whatever reasons. I'm guessing about 50 kids each got a nicely wrapped gift, Barbies, GI Joes, playground balls, fit the shaped pieces into the right hole thingys, dart games, nice stuff, age and gender appropriate—thoughtfully done. Santa spent a HAPPY half hour with the kids. Another first class event. Thanks to Maria, the condo mover and shaker. My apologies.
Maria waved at us, threw us kisses, came over to our window and talked. They had trouble getting a Santa; her son was going to do it and had a last minute conflict, but they found a neighbor. Guess who they have lined up for next year? You got it. Now I've got to get a suit made or brought from home. And, by then Santa will be able to speak to los ninos in their own language. Gladly. I'm looking forward to it. Real gifts; not candy canes and chew pops. Santa brightened my day. My heart is healed for a while. I want to be like him. Thanks Santa, and Maria, and our Dear Father for a sweet and tender mercy.
The blow up slide and palace are gone but the laughter and joy remain. Merry Christmas everyone. And to all a good night.
Friday, Dec. 24th at the office:
I was really frustrated and depressed for a couple of days, but then a miracle happened. A Christmas miracle. A missionary miracle. Thanks for all your faith and fasting and prayers. My brother, Steve, is awake, off the ventilator and most of the IV's and is talking. I hope to talk to him in person over the weekend and wish him A VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS. The doctors and nurses didn't give us much hope on Sunday, and Monday they did a complete reversal. He is not out of the woods, but is standing at the edge of the trees looking out at the meadow, getting ready to take the next step into the warm sunshine of LIFE! So far it appears that his mind and heart and other organs are working. With every miracle there is an element of mystery because we just can't explain everything. The doctors can't. I can't. You can't. I just accept it as a miracle without asking how or why. Thank God.
The mail tally for 8 weeks leading up to Christmas. . . .
• 58 Latinos and 1 Gringo got no mail, zero letters, 00 packages
• 17 Latinos and 4 Gringos got only one lousy letter/package
• 5 Latinos and 29 Gringos got between 2 to 5 items; this includes about 50 who came or left 1 week or 7 weeks ago
• 36 Gringos got from 6-14 the most any Latino got was 5
• 8 Gringos got from 15 -29 Two tied with 29 each and more on the way no doubt.
I don't know who gets email and some Chilean elders get their stuff delivered by family or friends who come to the temple, etc. One elder who arrived three days ago had a package and ten letters waiting here for him.
Yesterday was the all-mission all-day Christmas party, starting with homemade hot donuts, several hundred fried in two pans because we blew a fuse and couldn't find the breaker. A movie and a looooong area Presidency/General Authority talk about Joseph Smith and a ton of evidence that he was and did what he said he did and was. Very convincing, but the mind can only absorb as much as the seat can endure. Then a very nice lunch of roast beef, turkey, broccoli, mashed potatoes with a drop of “gravy”, and a table full of dessert choices. Well done. We all brought something not very worthwhile and left with something worth even less after the white elephant/silly Santa gift exchange. My Mississippi tee shirt was one of the favorites along with Michael Jackson and Minnie Mouse towels. I got a key chain. Mom's program was wonderful. Half the mission (85) was in the choir and the other half in the audience. She knows what she's doing and what she wants and how to get it out of people who don't really know what to do next and have never practiced together. She signals and animates and holds up signs and points and mimes and mouths her instructions and they are so enraptured watching her that it goes off without a hitch, except the violin player who had to improvise at times. At the end of a 12 hour party Santa finally came with a bag full of TipPops, photos, laughing, and 200 suckers later we finally went home and crashed.
Mom invited her (3) young women to our place (palace) for pizza, salad, pop and cheesecake. Of course she had decorations and candles and gifts. We picked them up at the church and chauffeured them to and from in our red chariot. They had a ball. We talked, sort of, laughed, ate, and had a grand time. We wonder what they thought of it all. We've never seen where or how they live, but I'm sure it's different from ours. After they washed their hands they came from the bathroom smelling the perfumed soap in the pump bottle. That gave us a little hint. We love them and they love us and we gladly gave and they gladly received the leftover pizza.
It's Christmas Eve. We're going to the King/President's house for Mexican after we Skype for an hour or two. WE LOVE AND MISS YOU ALL , BUT WE ARE HAVING A MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HOPE YOU ALL WILL TOO. REJOICE!!
PS: Tomorrow I'm taking Mom out for her Birthday dinner at the fanciest restaurant I can find. Just hope it's not Mikey Dee's. We hear that lots of places are open on Christmas—for the money. We have turned down two dinner invites to do this. (Together Forever)
LOVE, MOM AND DAD
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Prayer Request
Blair's youngest brother Steve collapsed Thursday evening from a possible massive heart attack. He is in critical condition though there has been some progress. We are prayerful and hopeful. Please join us in praying for Steve, Kathy, Ryan (who is serving a mission in Guatemala), Jessica, and all those caring for Steve at this time. Thanks!
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