October 12, 2010
I can't believe that today is my 5 month mark. It has gone by way too fast. There isn't anything like being a missionary. We are having a great week here. It is going to be little hotter this week, but that's life. In a week from Friday, María will be getting baptized, so that should be great. In the last week, we had a recent convert move in our area from a different stake, a great family move into our area from a different stake, and a great investigator move into our area from a different stake. We have been able to find some great new investigators, and some...interesting....new investigators.
Everything is going great. We walked past a little pizza place last P-day, and it turns out the owner is a returned missionary from Tijuana, Mexica. So, we get free pizza there. I ran into this lady on the street a while back who was super tan and had dark hair, so I started talking to her in Spanish, and she yelled, "I'M NOT MEXICAN!" and got mad and left. It was pretty funny, but even better was two weeks later, my companion accidentally talked to the exact same lady, and got the exact same reaction.
I'm loving every minute of being a missionary. At district meeting yesterday, our zone leaders came and we did something a little different. We had a testimony-type meeting where every missionary in the district got up and told why they came on a mission, and also why they are here (sort of like, why you're still here). It was great. Here is what I said:
"So, I came on a mission just because I always knew I would. It was something I always looked forward to, and my parents raised me to expect to go on a mission. It wasn't every really a question. My dad told me hilarious stories about his companions and his mission, and I always knew that I would go. I knew it was something I was supposed to do, and that was good enough for me. But I'm still here because I love being a missionary. I love everything about it. I love eating things that I wouldn't have even touched before my mission, and I love riding my bike up huge hills, and I love sweating so much that the inside of my shirt collars are brown at the end of the night, and I love having people get mad and insult you and try to argue with you on the street, and I love being the only white person in a room full of Mexicans. But most of all, I love the feeling that you get whenever you are at a baptism, and you watch someone that you have been working with come into the Gospel. There's nothing in the world like hearing your investigator bear their testimony after their baptism. So, I came on my mission because I was bred like a racehorse, to be a missionary; but I'm here because I love it more than anything."
Well, I guess that's all for this week. I haven't really eaten anything bizarre in the last week, but I did have some amazing carne asada (the Mexican version of stake, basically). It was so funny--Mexican people are excessively generous with food, so when my companion and I went over to this member's house on Sunday (there were a few member families there having dinner together), so I took a good-sized piece of carne asada (about the size of my hand) and was enjoying it when one of the sisters comes up to me and goes, "Elder, don't you like the carne asada?" And I told that I loved it and it was delicious. Then she said, "Well, have some more then!" And she slaps on a HUGE piece of carne asada on my plate (I'm not even kidding. It was legitimately the size of a dinner plate--probably a little less than a foot across). No wonder most Spanish-speaking missionaries gain weight. Enjoy your week!