A real email!
Some interesting happenings of the past week. Remember the priest with the ringtone? Well. He called us and wanted to meet. "Okay!" we said hesitantly, "come to the church!" He made us meet him out on the glav (the main road where people walk instead of car-ing, where we go to contact/get free perfume samples), and then sat us down in the church with his three plastic bags (everybody here carries around at least one plastic bag. It is a must). Then, essentially, calmly, he told us that if we somehow obtained a scholarship for his son to study in the states, he would make sure that son got baptized in our church, married to someone like us, and devoted his life to "our society." Sister Pantigoso, after explaining some of that to me, told him, basically, the deal. He didn't accept that, and kept insisting that it would be easy for us to get a "vujmojnost" (opportunity) for his son in the states. We said no, we do spiritual thangs, not money thangs, we're not an American church, etc. Then he got yelly and started quoting Jesus and saying that we didn't have charity. I didn't really say anything, since I didn't understand all of what he was saying and couldn't respond really, but Pantigoso got really upset (it's sort of a sore subject for her, poverty is - isn't it for everyone? not really) and said, basically, "Gospijin [sir], if I could, I would give you my own money and my own schooling, but I can't. Do you want to see my wallet?" He backed down a little, and said, can you at least give me one of your Bibles? We explained we don't give away Bibles because they belong to the branch. Then he got yelly again, so Pantigoso gave up and said, "Fine, gospojin, do you want my own personal Bible?" holding up the tiny one she's marked up with tabs and whatnot, expecting him to back down. But he. Took it. So that happened. Then, after she left the room, he grabbed my hand, raised it up, and kissed it, and did a sort of blessing motion over my head, and said, "You are very beautiful. Do you have a GSM number separate from your companion?" And I said, "Um, no, we have same. You ready leave?" And now he sometimes calls us, as if we are friends, just to chat. So. That happened.
A more interesting/less slimy happening! We had passport work this week (where we have to go to the capital to renew our lichna cartas/temporary living cards) so on Monday, we went to the obshtina (bus station place) and bought two tickets to Sofia! BTW, it is SOfia, not SofIA. Get it right. Don't be a clod. You will sound cool if you do the right accent. Anyway, so after 7 hours on a bus watching hideous b-movies with Bulgarian subtitles (I know many more swear words now), we got to Sofia! And it was like, 60 degrees, for the first time ever! And Sofia really is the coolest city. I'm excited to serve there someday. The next morning, we got palanchinkis at a fancy zakuski (breakfast) place, which are like fancy crepes with ice cream and et cetera. I have a picture of it! You shall see it soon! Then we went to an office and signed one paper, and then it was time to get back on the bus and drive seven more hours back to Varna! So quite a trip.
Some things that I've learned before, but somehow keep forgetting and having to re-learn here:
1) Humility is hard.
2) Faith is a real thing.
3) I have a small bladder.
4) Be really specific with people when you ask them to give you a haircut with sideswept bangs.
5) Good clothes make everything seem possible.
Here is a Bulgarian joke for the week. There is a word/expression? in Bulgarian called "nali?" You say it at the end of things to be like, "isn't that right/right?" So here is my joke. What if someone wanted to ask who was in the next room, and the person in the next room was named Nelli (as 2034802934093 people here are named). So you would say, "Ah, Neli, nali?" Hahahahahah!
Okay. Write to me! I have another pee day on this coming Monday, so all will be received. I love you all. Expect email in return.
Saturday, March 24, 2012
Monday, March 12, 2012
Week of March 11, 2012: Stray Dogs are More Common Than People
Dear Family and Extended Earthly Family,
Listicle, this week.
1) I can't write next week, on account of we don't have a pee day next week, on account of we have Zone Conference/Zone Pee Day that Thursday. So get ready for a week of SILENCE.
2) Sister Pantigoso got pretty sick on Thursday, but, the tough little guy she is, insisted that we go out and teach, until, after watching the Joseph Smith movie with little 15-year-old Eva, I escorted her, trembling with fever/fatigue, home.
3) Dooners (duners? how to spell that): a warm pita wrapped in a cone shape, filled with meat shaved from a giant meat roasting log (often displayed prominently near the window/airhole of dooner-locations), french fries, cucumbers, and various sauces, often creamy or spicy or pickled in nature. Eat those.
4) I actually stopped people this week! Like, on the street! And commanded them to listen to me! So that was cool.
5) Also, we met an orthodox priest, who walked menacingly toward our streetboard in his robe/hat and then asked us about the Book of Mormon/where we were from/if we could meet. Probably this is an April Fool's joke he likes to pull every year! But it was cool. Also, he insisted upon giving us his number and us trying it then and there, so that we could hear his ringtone (which was a choir singing some kind of orthodox dirge thingy, it was awesome and hilarious).
5) Everybody has the same six ringtones here! So you always think your phone is going off, when it's really 20 other peoples' on the same bus!
6) We spend about 3 hours a day (it feels like) on the bus. Going up to the suburb where many of our investigators live, called Vladi Slavovo. Going to the other suburb where Elise lives, whose name I forget, but where stray dogs are more common than people and most things that are wet are urine. She is doing so well though! She pretty much finished the Book of Mormon? What? And she can barely read? Every day I am more glad to know her.
7) Being in a ward is hard! Baptism is not the final step! The branch here is still full of drama and difficulties that come with trying to live the Gorspel (misspelling purposeful). So all of you trying to Be Mormons but feeling like it Is Really Hard - yeah, it is. But we can do it. With some coke and McDonald's breaks, and some laughing at broken podium microphones.
8) Pantigoso was so sick, in fact, that we spent all of Saturday and Sunday home. It was . . . weird. We watched movies (allowed in our mission), and basically . . . sat around. It was really weird. It made me realize how much we work, and also how little I have to preoccupy my brain besides what I'm doing here. And also how if there's any confusion about anything, I will bake. Doesn't matter what's happening. I will bake. Bake. BAKE.
Okay. Out of time, somehow, again. Up for today: the mall! Finally, I'm an Eastern European! What if it were "Eatern European"? Ha ha ha.
Okay. I love you all. Write to me and take care of yourselves and eat fries with everything.
Listicle, this week.
1) I can't write next week, on account of we don't have a pee day next week, on account of we have Zone Conference/Zone Pee Day that Thursday. So get ready for a week of SILENCE.
2) Sister Pantigoso got pretty sick on Thursday, but, the tough little guy she is, insisted that we go out and teach, until, after watching the Joseph Smith movie with little 15-year-old Eva, I escorted her, trembling with fever/fatigue, home.
3) Dooners (duners? how to spell that): a warm pita wrapped in a cone shape, filled with meat shaved from a giant meat roasting log (often displayed prominently near the window/airhole of dooner-locations), french fries, cucumbers, and various sauces, often creamy or spicy or pickled in nature. Eat those.
4) I actually stopped people this week! Like, on the street! And commanded them to listen to me! So that was cool.
5) Also, we met an orthodox priest, who walked menacingly toward our streetboard in his robe/hat and then asked us about the Book of Mormon/where we were from/if we could meet. Probably this is an April Fool's joke he likes to pull every year! But it was cool. Also, he insisted upon giving us his number and us trying it then and there, so that we could hear his ringtone (which was a choir singing some kind of orthodox dirge thingy, it was awesome and hilarious).
5) Everybody has the same six ringtones here! So you always think your phone is going off, when it's really 20 other peoples' on the same bus!
6) We spend about 3 hours a day (it feels like) on the bus. Going up to the suburb where many of our investigators live, called Vladi Slavovo. Going to the other suburb where Elise lives, whose name I forget, but where stray dogs are more common than people and most things that are wet are urine. She is doing so well though! She pretty much finished the Book of Mormon? What? And she can barely read? Every day I am more glad to know her.
7) Being in a ward is hard! Baptism is not the final step! The branch here is still full of drama and difficulties that come with trying to live the Gorspel (misspelling purposeful). So all of you trying to Be Mormons but feeling like it Is Really Hard - yeah, it is. But we can do it. With some coke and McDonald's breaks, and some laughing at broken podium microphones.
8) Pantigoso was so sick, in fact, that we spent all of Saturday and Sunday home. It was . . . weird. We watched movies (allowed in our mission), and basically . . . sat around. It was really weird. It made me realize how much we work, and also how little I have to preoccupy my brain besides what I'm doing here. And also how if there's any confusion about anything, I will bake. Doesn't matter what's happening. I will bake. Bake. BAKE.
Okay. Out of time, somehow, again. Up for today: the mall! Finally, I'm an Eastern European! What if it were "Eatern European"? Ha ha ha.
Okay. I love you all. Write to me and take care of yourselves and eat fries with everything.
Monday, March 5, 2012
Week of March 5, 2012: Tender Mercies
Strasti amigos! (What? Different languages? What next????)
This was a slightly difficult week. The excitement of dust and dog crap and yogurt everywhere has worn off, and I'm starting to realize that I'm "on" a "mission" to "Bulgaria" to "convert people" to the "Gospel." It's kind of a trudno* thing. There is this culture, it turns out, (I could have guessed it, of course), (too many commas! I'm sorry!) which encourages people to be like "The District" (who has seen that? it's hilarious) and call everybody "powerful" and wear button-up pink shirts and be really serious and use your elastic band thing they give you and be this single kind of serious missionary who does things a single kind of serious way, and to be insanely guilty/self-hating if you do anything slightly different. Well, nuts to you, Culture! I reject you. Because I'm realizing more and more how personal missions are. Even though we all follow the same rules and have the same purpose, we're all called for our individual talents/strengths/things we can cook, and it's meant to be that way. For instance, I will just never, ever wear a blazer. It's not going to happen. Deal with it.
Everyone always said that when you stopped thinking about yourself/your needs/granola and start thinking about the people you work with and see, then you're actually being a missionary. I don't think I'm quite there yet. But I do have the desire to talk about my Investi-gators! (Haha, alligators who are investigating the Church. Get it?)
First of all is Elise. She is from Bali! And speaks Bahasa! And ended up here, somehow, to work, and ended up having a baby with a Bulgar, this guy who turned out to be alcoholic and abusive. I love her, though. She has a kid, Giorgi, who is lit'rally the cutest baby I've seen in all of Europe. And she is very, very sincere and kind of all over the place and spazzy and speaks broken English/Bahasa/Bulgarian and, since we've started teaching her, has started to have very vivid dreams that are kind of crazily vision-sounding (like something she described dreaming that was almost exactly like the Plan of Salve. What?) She has a baptismal date for April, but is still living with her boyfriend, so we fasted yesterday that she'd be able to find a way to leave.
Second, Eva! (P.S. Eva Asplund, she makes me miss you so much. She reminds me of you a lot every time we talk to her. Email me!!) She's 15 and has been coming with her mom to church since she was like 4, because her mom was investigating all that time (but isn't anymore). So finally, this transfer, she agreed to start meeting with Sister Pantigoso and I, and last Saturday, she agreed to make the ultimate slam dunk: baptism. It was really amazing. I just remember the first time we met with her, this sweet, excited, smart, loving girl, who just like, radiated the Spirit just by being herself. It was the first time I had felt this really intense desire to teach someone about their eternal nature and how much God loves them, and it made me jittery and teary and so happy to be sitting there with her. Does that make sense? Anyway. She's getting baptized! A tender mercy that I get to know her, so early in my mission.
Finding is hard. Finding is where you go out in public, with a survey or a streetboard or your brain, and try to stop random people and get their numbers. But it will get better, I think, if I actually practice and "do it."
Will you please send me recipes, everyone? I have none. Cooking is still my favorite outlet for stress, even here in our little 'partment.
Okay. Time is somehow up. I love you all. I'm probably forgetting a million things and a million people. I'm sorry. But I love you and the Church is TRUOOOO. Write meeee!
*Note: I believe this is Polish for "difficult." (the editor)
This was a slightly difficult week. The excitement of dust and dog crap and yogurt everywhere has worn off, and I'm starting to realize that I'm "on" a "mission" to "Bulgaria" to "convert people" to the "Gospel." It's kind of a trudno* thing. There is this culture, it turns out, (I could have guessed it, of course), (too many commas! I'm sorry!) which encourages people to be like "The District" (who has seen that? it's hilarious) and call everybody "powerful" and wear button-up pink shirts and be really serious and use your elastic band thing they give you and be this single kind of serious missionary who does things a single kind of serious way, and to be insanely guilty/self-hating if you do anything slightly different. Well, nuts to you, Culture! I reject you. Because I'm realizing more and more how personal missions are. Even though we all follow the same rules and have the same purpose, we're all called for our individual talents/strengths/things we can cook, and it's meant to be that way. For instance, I will just never, ever wear a blazer. It's not going to happen. Deal with it.
Everyone always said that when you stopped thinking about yourself/your needs/granola and start thinking about the people you work with and see, then you're actually being a missionary. I don't think I'm quite there yet. But I do have the desire to talk about my Investi-gators! (Haha, alligators who are investigating the Church. Get it?)
First of all is Elise. She is from Bali! And speaks Bahasa! And ended up here, somehow, to work, and ended up having a baby with a Bulgar, this guy who turned out to be alcoholic and abusive. I love her, though. She has a kid, Giorgi, who is lit'rally the cutest baby I've seen in all of Europe. And she is very, very sincere and kind of all over the place and spazzy and speaks broken English/Bahasa/Bulgarian and, since we've started teaching her, has started to have very vivid dreams that are kind of crazily vision-sounding (like something she described dreaming that was almost exactly like the Plan of Salve. What?) She has a baptismal date for April, but is still living with her boyfriend, so we fasted yesterday that she'd be able to find a way to leave.
Second, Eva! (P.S. Eva Asplund, she makes me miss you so much. She reminds me of you a lot every time we talk to her. Email me!!) She's 15 and has been coming with her mom to church since she was like 4, because her mom was investigating all that time (but isn't anymore). So finally, this transfer, she agreed to start meeting with Sister Pantigoso and I, and last Saturday, she agreed to make the ultimate slam dunk: baptism. It was really amazing. I just remember the first time we met with her, this sweet, excited, smart, loving girl, who just like, radiated the Spirit just by being herself. It was the first time I had felt this really intense desire to teach someone about their eternal nature and how much God loves them, and it made me jittery and teary and so happy to be sitting there with her. Does that make sense? Anyway. She's getting baptized! A tender mercy that I get to know her, so early in my mission.
Finding is hard. Finding is where you go out in public, with a survey or a streetboard or your brain, and try to stop random people and get their numbers. But it will get better, I think, if I actually practice and "do it."
Will you please send me recipes, everyone? I have none. Cooking is still my favorite outlet for stress, even here in our little 'partment.
Okay. Time is somehow up. I love you all. I'm probably forgetting a million things and a million people. I'm sorry. But I love you and the Church is TRUOOOO. Write meeee!
*Note: I believe this is Polish for "difficult." (the editor)
Week of March 5, 2012
Dear friends,
Eliza is loving her mission but is really needing your support right now. A mission has a way of refining us just where we need to be refined, of asking us to share our most private fears and failings with God without restraint. Please pray for her, write to her, think of her kindly. Thank you for being part of her work!
xo
Marni/Mom
Eliza is loving her mission but is really needing your support right now. A mission has a way of refining us just where we need to be refined, of asking us to share our most private fears and failings with God without restraint. Please pray for her, write to her, think of her kindly. Thank you for being part of her work!
xo
Marni/Mom
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Shameful Cake and Baba Marta
Hello friends! I am sorry for the delay--its been a crazy week here in Seattle. But here it is--a little shorter than usual, and I detect a slight slippage of English syntax. Send the girl some email!
Hey errybody!
Okay, firstly: the following people need to email me so that I have their email addresses/something to respond to: Taylor, Tatyana, Chioma, Thomas, Amelia, Erin McGuire, and Bree. And probably anyone else reading this too. That was just all I could think of in this really, really dark smoky weird "internet area."
So my first week is over! We are teaching and walking and things are good! It is getting slightly warmer! I have stood by the Black Sea now and looked into its (nonblack) depths!
Here is a funny story. We have this family of a grandma (Ivana), granddaughter (Vanya) and grandson (Tsenko) who we're teaching. Vanya just turned 19, and we baked her a banana cake for the occasion (which Bulgarians don't understand. Here, for your birthday, you give other people candy, and certainly no one puts fire on a cake and gives it to YOU). But anyway! She was late for our meeting with her, as we expected (she's kind of a teenager, if you know what I mean) and we were expecting her, really, to just not show up. So we're at her block door on the ninth floor waiting, and Sis. Panti just wanted to leave, because we were late for other appertments anyway.
But I suggested we sit and wait, at least for five minutes. So we did, watching a confusion scene of some kids nine floors below trying to chop wood/fix a car/make a fire, or some combination thereof, with the assistance of a Wise Old Man. The freaky, horror-movie metal elevator kept clunking and humming to our right, signaling a person coming up to their floor, and we started to look at the cake. And things happened. And nervously, jumpily, we ended up eating about half of it right there. And then, JUST as we stood up, ten minutes later, to leave, Vanya showed up. Hahahahahahahhaaha. So that happened.
Also, we made martinitzi last week! Google that up. It's little red and white bracelets you put on on the first of March and then take off and hang on a tree when you see a stork? It makes perfect sense, don't worry. Something to do with spring/blood/seasons. Something like that.*
I have a tiny English/Buglarian dictionary! Too cute!
I am out of time! This is hard! But I love all of you. Will you email me? I will email you back! It will be great!
*Note: She is referring to the celebration of Baba Marta. Read all about it here!
Hey errybody!
Okay, firstly: the following people need to email me so that I have their email addresses/something to respond to: Taylor, Tatyana, Chioma, Thomas, Amelia, Erin McGuire, and Bree. And probably anyone else reading this too. That was just all I could think of in this really, really dark smoky weird "internet area."
So my first week is over! We are teaching and walking and things are good! It is getting slightly warmer! I have stood by the Black Sea now and looked into its (nonblack) depths!
Here is a funny story. We have this family of a grandma (Ivana), granddaughter (Vanya) and grandson (Tsenko) who we're teaching. Vanya just turned 19, and we baked her a banana cake for the occasion (which Bulgarians don't understand. Here, for your birthday, you give other people candy, and certainly no one puts fire on a cake and gives it to YOU). But anyway! She was late for our meeting with her, as we expected (she's kind of a teenager, if you know what I mean) and we were expecting her, really, to just not show up. So we're at her block door on the ninth floor waiting, and Sis. Panti just wanted to leave, because we were late for other appertments anyway.
But I suggested we sit and wait, at least for five minutes. So we did, watching a confusion scene of some kids nine floors below trying to chop wood/fix a car/make a fire, or some combination thereof, with the assistance of a Wise Old Man. The freaky, horror-movie metal elevator kept clunking and humming to our right, signaling a person coming up to their floor, and we started to look at the cake. And things happened. And nervously, jumpily, we ended up eating about half of it right there. And then, JUST as we stood up, ten minutes later, to leave, Vanya showed up. Hahahahahahahhaaha. So that happened.
Also, we made martinitzi last week! Google that up. It's little red and white bracelets you put on on the first of March and then take off and hang on a tree when you see a stork? It makes perfect sense, don't worry. Something to do with spring/blood/seasons. Something like that.*
I have a tiny English/Buglarian dictionary! Too cute!
I am out of time! This is hard! But I love all of you. Will you email me? I will email you back! It will be great!
*Note: She is referring to the celebration of Baba Marta. Read all about it here!
Monday, February 20, 2012
Eliza's First Letter From Varna: Blocks and Buses
Get ready for an ACTUALLY INTERESTING LETTER! Instead of one just about SWEAT AND LAUNDRY! ;)
I mean, I think it will be interesting. Maybe not.
Okay, okay, okay. First things first. We were just at one of Varna's three (3) malls, because it's one of our Edlers' (I like saying "Edler" instead of Elder, it is funny to me) birthday, and we wanted to go boweling/lazy tagging. (Bowling or laser tagging, translated from my special crazy pun language.)*
Second things second. Here I am in the Paradise of the Balkans. If my teachers are reading this, they were all DEAD wrong: first, Baba Vicky did NOT make us dinner; President Roth's wife did (it was very good and Actual, as opposed to the very non-actual plane food we had been ingesting that day). Also, my trainer is Sister Pantigoso, not Sister Kinkaid! You were all so wrong! And I am in Varna, not Sofia. Sister Pantigoso (or Sister Panti, as she frequently calls herself) is from Switzerland most recently, but was born in Peru. So she speaks Spanish and French and good English, and now Bulgarian. So her brain mostly works in French and Spanish, which makes things interesting here. Although the Spanish skillz have come in handy recently, as when we stop at a Bankomat (ATM dealy) and if there's a creepy guy nearby, I say quietly, "A la izquierda," as the case may be. (Because you never can tell when people here will speak English. At least three of our investigators are taught in English.)
Um, oh boy. Let's see. Brain is overloaded. OH! Just so everyone knows this, I am an Idiot who is very Un-Streetwise. Why, you ask? On the way to the aforementioned mall, we were on the Most Crowded Bus Ever, such that I had to wedge myself next to the doors and get smacked forward whenever they would open for a stop, all the time going "Sujliavam, sujliavam!" to all the little dyados and babas. (Cool, different words, you're all thinking!) Anyway, apparently at some point during that, this one girl who was near me took my wallet. So. I don't have my wallet anymore. Oh well! Ha ha ha, Europe! Oh, Europe, you scamp! Your fake showers and very thin toilet seats and insistence upon making yogurt models look very sexual! Oh, also, Taylor Jackboy: you win. I really do like Europe. FINE. Also, Tatyana Iceboy: this place reminds me SO MUCH OF YOU. Everybody walks everywhere in high heeled boots and looks like they just got back from a hike/a thrift store. I understand you/Eastern Europe now.
So I got my wallet stolen like a chump from Tennessee, but at least she didn't get my camera! Because it was in a magical Lisa Simpson sock! So there will be some pictures with this, I think.
Here are some last-day-in-the-MTC shoutouts: Chioma! This is for you! Do you know that when those dudes brought your present to my classroom, I lit'rally burst into tears of joy? You are so nice. You have a huge, beachside resort house in heaven. Also, who sent me that bag of wool tights? Lara? Jesus? Well, they were very smart. Because it's pretty cold here. It was like negative 20 C (Celsius freaks me out, man) in Sofia, the day when we got off the plane, drank a class of cok (juice! who made up that word??), and immediately went to go "contact" "people" in the "Bulgarian" "language." Ha ha ha. That was quite the time.
So we actually have a lot of investigators here, which is great because there is very little chance, in my mind, that I could ever intelligibly talk to someone and attract them to being taught, unless I used one of those cane things they use to pull people offstage. But I guess we just . . . teach people in Bulgarian? Also, BLOCKS! I can't attach pictures it turns out, but everyone google "Bulgarian blocks" and you'll see the huge concrete blokove that we go teaching/contacting in much of the day. They're huge and dirty and wood smokey and full of differently colored windows, and kind of . .. really visually appealing? In a hipster way? It makes me angry because you know the Urban Outfitters/Anthropologie style of decorating? It turns out they just took it from a baba's block apartment from 1970. And made it lamer/more technology-y. And took out all the potatoes.
We did streetboarding on my first day, Friday, which was pretty much the scariest experience of my life, for some reason. Essentially, you get a board with some exciting picture/idea on it related to the gospel, like a giant board used for REACH or a seventh grade science project, and stand by it in the center of Varna going "Dober den! Dober den! Kak si? Znaete li za tazi vipros?" while people laugh/spit upon you/say things you can't understand. One time a guy actually stopped and said something to me like this: "Mumuble mumble communism haresva mi mumble!" and I said "Kakbo vi haresva?" (Which is like, what do you like? Because I thought he said something about liking something.) And then Pantigoso had to come help me out, and eventually he just counted the Holy Trinity on his fingers, made a fist, and shook it at us going, "Protantisti! Protantisti! Slojna rabota!" That comes up a lot. "Slojna rabota." It's like, literally, 'heavy work,' but basically means, 'That's some crazy weird crap you're doing, and I think you're evil and stupid.' So cool!
Also, remember how every googled thing about Bulgaria tells you about the opposite nodding thing? Well, that's no joke man. EVERY missionary here does it. My trainer, when I first met her and asked her if she was excited, said, "So excited! Yes!" while vigorously shaking her head from left to right. Which means, yes. And I already have started nodding for no and shaking for yes, but sometimes I'll catch myself and get confused. So it's bad. I'm just going to hold my head perfectly still, maybe in a helmet, for the rest of my life.
We have an AC/DC mug in my apartment! I'm forgetting all the little things I wanted to talk about! Okay, I love you all! Continue to email me, plz! eliza.e.campbell@myldsmail.net! Keep it up! Hsichko hubavo! I love you!
* Editor's note: Eliza has inherited this gift of wordplay from her Great-Grandpa Joe Strong and his daughter, her Grandma Patricia Asplund. It originated a few more generations ago in the East End of London, the Cockney sport of word play. Several generations later and it has sprung forth FULL BLOWN in Eliza!
I mean, I think it will be interesting. Maybe not.
Okay, okay, okay. First things first. We were just at one of Varna's three (3) malls, because it's one of our Edlers' (I like saying "Edler" instead of Elder, it is funny to me) birthday, and we wanted to go boweling/lazy tagging. (Bowling or laser tagging, translated from my special crazy pun language.)*
Second things second. Here I am in the Paradise of the Balkans. If my teachers are reading this, they were all DEAD wrong: first, Baba Vicky did NOT make us dinner; President Roth's wife did (it was very good and Actual, as opposed to the very non-actual plane food we had been ingesting that day). Also, my trainer is Sister Pantigoso, not Sister Kinkaid! You were all so wrong! And I am in Varna, not Sofia. Sister Pantigoso (or Sister Panti, as she frequently calls herself) is from Switzerland most recently, but was born in Peru. So she speaks Spanish and French and good English, and now Bulgarian. So her brain mostly works in French and Spanish, which makes things interesting here. Although the Spanish skillz have come in handy recently, as when we stop at a Bankomat (ATM dealy) and if there's a creepy guy nearby, I say quietly, "A la izquierda," as the case may be. (Because you never can tell when people here will speak English. At least three of our investigators are taught in English.)
Um, oh boy. Let's see. Brain is overloaded. OH! Just so everyone knows this, I am an Idiot who is very Un-Streetwise. Why, you ask? On the way to the aforementioned mall, we were on the Most Crowded Bus Ever, such that I had to wedge myself next to the doors and get smacked forward whenever they would open for a stop, all the time going "Sujliavam, sujliavam!" to all the little dyados and babas. (Cool, different words, you're all thinking!) Anyway, apparently at some point during that, this one girl who was near me took my wallet. So. I don't have my wallet anymore. Oh well! Ha ha ha, Europe! Oh, Europe, you scamp! Your fake showers and very thin toilet seats and insistence upon making yogurt models look very sexual! Oh, also, Taylor Jackboy: you win. I really do like Europe. FINE. Also, Tatyana Iceboy: this place reminds me SO MUCH OF YOU. Everybody walks everywhere in high heeled boots and looks like they just got back from a hike/a thrift store. I understand you/Eastern Europe now.
So I got my wallet stolen like a chump from Tennessee, but at least she didn't get my camera! Because it was in a magical Lisa Simpson sock! So there will be some pictures with this, I think.
Here are some last-day-in-the-MTC shoutouts: Chioma! This is for you! Do you know that when those dudes brought your present to my classroom, I lit'rally burst into tears of joy? You are so nice. You have a huge, beachside resort house in heaven. Also, who sent me that bag of wool tights? Lara? Jesus? Well, they were very smart. Because it's pretty cold here. It was like negative 20 C (Celsius freaks me out, man) in Sofia, the day when we got off the plane, drank a class of cok (juice! who made up that word??), and immediately went to go "contact" "people" in the "Bulgarian" "language." Ha ha ha. That was quite the time.
So we actually have a lot of investigators here, which is great because there is very little chance, in my mind, that I could ever intelligibly talk to someone and attract them to being taught, unless I used one of those cane things they use to pull people offstage. But I guess we just . . . teach people in Bulgarian? Also, BLOCKS! I can't attach pictures it turns out, but everyone google "Bulgarian blocks" and you'll see the huge concrete blokove that we go teaching/contacting in much of the day. They're huge and dirty and wood smokey and full of differently colored windows, and kind of . .. really visually appealing? In a hipster way? It makes me angry because you know the Urban Outfitters/Anthropologie style of decorating? It turns out they just took it from a baba's block apartment from 1970. And made it lamer/more technology-y. And took out all the potatoes.
We did streetboarding on my first day, Friday, which was pretty much the scariest experience of my life, for some reason. Essentially, you get a board with some exciting picture/idea on it related to the gospel, like a giant board used for REACH or a seventh grade science project, and stand by it in the center of Varna going "Dober den! Dober den! Kak si? Znaete li za tazi vipros?" while people laugh/spit upon you/say things you can't understand. One time a guy actually stopped and said something to me like this: "Mumuble mumble communism haresva mi mumble!" and I said "Kakbo vi haresva?" (Which is like, what do you like? Because I thought he said something about liking something.) And then Pantigoso had to come help me out, and eventually he just counted the Holy Trinity on his fingers, made a fist, and shook it at us going, "Protantisti! Protantisti! Slojna rabota!" That comes up a lot. "Slojna rabota." It's like, literally, 'heavy work,' but basically means, 'That's some crazy weird crap you're doing, and I think you're evil and stupid.' So cool!
Also, remember how every googled thing about Bulgaria tells you about the opposite nodding thing? Well, that's no joke man. EVERY missionary here does it. My trainer, when I first met her and asked her if she was excited, said, "So excited! Yes!" while vigorously shaking her head from left to right. Which means, yes. And I already have started nodding for no and shaking for yes, but sometimes I'll catch myself and get confused. So it's bad. I'm just going to hold my head perfectly still, maybe in a helmet, for the rest of my life.
We have an AC/DC mug in my apartment! I'm forgetting all the little things I wanted to talk about! Okay, I love you all! Continue to email me, plz! eliza.e.campbell@myldsmail.net! Keep it up! Hsichko hubavo! I love you!
* Editor's note: Eliza has inherited this gift of wordplay from her Great-Grandpa Joe Strong and his daughter, her Grandma Patricia Asplund. It originated a few more generations ago in the East End of London, the Cockney sport of word play. Several generations later and it has sprung forth FULL BLOWN in Eliza!
Friday, February 17, 2012
Varna
Hello Friends, Family, and Fans,
Eliza called yesterday (Thursday, February 16) to let us know that she had safely arrived in her first mission area, Varna, on the coast of the Black Sea. (See here for information: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Varna)
When she and her companion arrived in Sofia, they were given a meal and then sent out in the cold (-20 degrees celsius!) to meet and greet the good people of Bulgaria. She was jet-lagged and cold, but excited to be speaking and sharing.
She met her new companion the next day, and they took a seven hour bus ride to Varna.
You can e-mail her here: eliza.campbell@myldsmail.net
You can write to her here: Sister Eliza Emily Campbell
Bulgaria Sofia Mission
Ul. Marin Drinov 21
1504 Sofia
Bulgaria
Eliza called yesterday (Thursday, February 16) to let us know that she had safely arrived in her first mission area, Varna, on the coast of the Black Sea. (See here for information: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Varna)
When she and her companion arrived in Sofia, they were given a meal and then sent out in the cold (-20 degrees celsius!) to meet and greet the good people of Bulgaria. She was jet-lagged and cold, but excited to be speaking and sharing.
She met her new companion the next day, and they took a seven hour bus ride to Varna.
You can e-mail her here: eliza.campbell@myldsmail.net
You can write to her here: Sister Eliza Emily Campbell
Bulgaria Sofia Mission
Ul. Marin Drinov 21
1504 Sofia
Bulgaria
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