Here's a missionary joke for you, at the end of my fourth week: what did the missionary say to the other missionary? Answer: Let's go get some gum and chew it in secret! Ha hahaha. Get it? Because we're not allowed to chew gum.
So a whirlwind of activity has happened since I last wrote! Um...I didn't chew gum. But I did drink some actual, caffeinated Diet Coat! (Coke.) How, you ask, HOW? Well, we got a notice in our collective tiny mailing box on Tuesday that we were finally going to L.A. to do the visa thang that Friday! The most recent Friday. So we did! It was like two pee days in one week! And many good times were had. We got up at 5 and went to the travel office like everyone leaving for Bolivia/Mexico/Phillipines that day, and then we DIDN'T BRING LUGGAGE! The whole day was kind of one giant awkward confusing encounter with people who thought we were really on our way out to the mission filled (field). But nice anyway. We rode in a creepy white unmarked van DOWN UNIVERSITY PARKWAY (I used to drive there! I know that street!) and then down UNIVERSITY AVENUE (I was there! You all were there!). Needless to say, I was like an excited puppy with my head out the window, looking excitedly at the real world of LIGHTS and PEOPLE and SUB PLACES.
And then we waited for like 1098345092834 hours for our plane to get there (stupid pragmatic 'early' Church Travel). With an elder who was actually on his way out to the filled, in Japan. Tokyo. And we had to say, "Yeah, we have seven more weeks...but it's cool that you're leaving!" And I drank a Diet Coat on the plane and almost died of joy! Oh man. Then we almost didn't get on our little mini bus at LAX because the driver talked too fast and non-Utah-y for any of our tiny baby MTC ears to understand/we were intimidated. But then we were off! Driving through Las Angeles! And it was like 70 degrees! Global warming we're all gonna die!
The Bulgarian "consulate" experience was pretty hilarious. We got security cleared into this shiny office building (with palm trees outside of it! Oh boy!) and up to the millionth floor, and the consulate, as expected, was in fact a tiny, perhaps bathroom-sized office building, with a ragged Bug-larian flag on one wall and a plant taking up most of the floor. Three clearly-native Bulgarians were there, probably renewing visas to go visit? The one dude had the HUGEST EYEBROWS EVER. This was the most exciting part of the trip, maybe. Or maybe the whole week. THOSE EYEBROWS. GOOD. GRAVY. LIKE A HAIRY ANTELOPE OVER EACH EYE. And our teachers tell us that all Bulge-arians are like that. So I have that to look forward to!
We literally signed and dated one document and then left. The tradition of past Bulge-arian groups was to go to In-And-Out, but PLEASE. Come ON. So we had a plan long ago to ask our driver to go to a good Mexican place (MTC food hasn't quite learned how to be 'flavorful' yet, certainly not 'spicy''). So we went to Benito's Tacos, which turns out to be medium-famous, somewhere around Santa Monica, surrounded by sk8ter kidz STARING at us. We stuck out pretty bad. And then we flew home!!! The end.
Also, here is a little tidbit. For 2 hours a day (1?) we do this thing called "TALL" (technology-assisted language learning) which is where we sit at computer labs and listen to a robot say "smurt. smurt. smurt." (death in Bulgarian) over and over. Or whatever words/sentences we're learning. But recently, I've imagined that since I am not that 'tall,' during this lab I should go into a room and be stretched out by those medieval stretching things to attempt to get more 'tall.' That's MY kind of TALL lab! Ha ha ha. I saved that joke just for you.
Also, remember that kitten stationery? (SEND ME MORE IF IT.) I took the kitten picture off the cover and put it on the door of our room, along with a post-it saying 2 Nephi 2:27? (wherever talks about lions lying down with lambs). And also post-its that spell out KOTKA! So with that and my leopard footied pajamas, we are definitely the cat lady room of the floor.
In conclusion, we now teach three (3) investigators (prouchvateli) on a daily basis. One is named Svetlan (I call him "Sweaty Lawn," but not to his face) and he struggles with the recent death of his son and wife, as well as praying to St. Nikolai. One is named Nikolai, ironically, and is a womanizing atheist we met in the "park" on New Year's. He still doesn't believe in God. But whatever! And the last is named Kosyo. He just got divorced, and is pretty strongly Orthodox, but is interested in reading the Book of Mormon. Who ISN'T! Am I right? Anyway. Since the fourth elder in our district just left, we now teach them as a three some (me, Sister Farnsworth, and Elder Bryce). It's pretty weird/cool. I guess I . . . can sort of speak Bulgarian?
I love all of your letters and packages and want to hear from you! How is the Ovorp? How is the Seattle? Send me socks?
I love you guys! Tonight, DJ got us falling in love again (with the Gospel of Christ)!
No comments:
Post a Comment