Yet
another week has somehow gone by. Sorry, I'll stop saying things like
that that make me sound like a middle-aged newspaper columnist trying to
be cool. When we last left off, I was in Sliven about to go on Mount
Carandila for some well-needed frolicking (it's my . . . third time?
going on that mountain). You take a rickety, 50-year-old ski-like lift
up the mountain (like unto Sundance, but in an Eastern European kind of
way) and can hike up past all these old communist meeting houses that
are now broken and empty and graffitied, and then into the wild frontier
of nature! And look out over Yambol and Sliven and all of their little
celos. I'll send pictures someday when I'm in a zala that has hook-ups
for such things. But let me first just mention some amusing happenings
from that outing:
1) We did our traditional yoga/om-ing on the summit
(pictures shall come later) and a member from the Sliven branch, who
happened to be with us, got uncomfortable and kept asking, "Is this
religious? Does this mean something religious??"
2) I was sliding down a rock face, looking all cool, and there was
one of those comically loud and juicy ripping sounds and I had torn my
cotton Target brand exercise pants completely in half.
3) In front of everybody.
4) Luckily, I am a good sister missionary and enjoy laughing and myself/others, and had a skirt in my backpack.
This
has mainly been a finding transfer. And by mainly I mean, all-ly. It's
kind of funny because we use these DVD episodes called "The District"
(some people will know what I'm talking about) to train/practice our
missionary skills, and they're basically videos of missionaries'
experiences in two missions in the States, and how those missionaries
are perfect and everything goes perfectly and they have cars. So it's
funny to watch those segments with Sister Frame, as I try to train her,
and then to go to our reality of finding in Bulgaria, which consists of
walking around the streets all day, trying to stop people and give them a
survey/ask them about God. Sometimes getting yelled at, sometimes being
kissed unexpectedly. I've never tracted yet - I imagine that will
happen in the wintertyme. But anyway. Still finding. Still looking.
Still don't really have anyone to teach, and we're giving Raiko a break
until he wants to progress. BUT a really cool, yet frustrating, thing
happened this week.
On Wednesday I stopped a lady in the bazaar (a
section of Stara Zagora all full of produce markets/open-air clothing
stalls, etc.) and talked to her about the Book of Mormon. She seemed
interested, and was extremely nice (which is always a good sign), but
said that although she was born in Bulgaria, she usually lives in
Germany, with a German husband, and was only there a few days like she
does every summer, to visit family. Could we still meet with her? I said
yes, of course, and we exchanged numbers. I didn't really think
anything of it, of course, because I've reached a kind of point where
you just don't expect anybody to want to meet with you, even those who
give you their numbers, because it's less painful that way. BUT - and I
say but because this is the first time this has happened to me - SHE
actually called US that evening. Which is even weirder because people
here often don't have enough money on their phones to make calls, only
to receive them, such that my incoming call list on the cell phone we
have consists only ever of other missionaries calling me. And she
called. And asked if we could meet the next day, the day before we left
for Germany. And I knew we were leaving for Plovdiv that morning for
zone conference, and would have to be on a bus by ten. So we set it up
for 9 that morning, and waited for her at the church. And she actually
CAME. (People also tend to not show up to appointments.) It was kind of
amazing. So I tried to explain to her about the Book of Mormon,
Apostasy, We Don't Worship Mormon, etc., and she said she planned to
read the Book when she got back to Germany, and wanted to meet the
German missionaries. So we said goodbye, she wished us all the best, and
I gave her my email address.
Anyway. I guess I will just say that being a
missionary anywhere requires huge faith, I believe. Maybe that lady will
never meet with missionaries/join the church/whatever. But I have the
faith that I did what I had to do in that moment, and that it mattered.
And even though I'm in Bulgaria, I know that my mission isn't
necessarily "harder" or more requiring of faith than anyone else's, even
those happy sisters in San Diego on The District. And it's been strange
to get up every morning and realize I have no idea if I'll even find
anyone interested to listen to me, but that I will be faithful and
cheerful and do my best anyway.
Lessons! Also, Sister Frame and I made
Bulgarian-style BLTs: bacon, which we had to slice ourselves,
lyutenitza, this spicy eggplant/pepper/tomato sauce I eat at least one
pint of every day, tomatoes (they're officially going out of season,
tears weep gnashing of teeth), cirene, and yogurt instead of mayonnaise.
Um. I don't even want to talk about it.
Everybody's life is going on! Today is the first day
of school for Bulgarian children, and it reminds me of how you're all
off going to school and starting things and having babies and going on
missions and making new friends and getting new jobs. Aww. Cute. I miss
you all so much. Keep the faith!
Love,
Sister Scramble
