This has been a crazy week, even by our
standards. First of all, remember Veasana, the one who writes the
letters and proposes to us on the daily? Well, he was up to his old
schemes in our latest lesson. The problem being that Sister Dunster
hadn't gotten the best night's sleep the night before, so she was dozing
off as he was talking. I elbowed her awake just as Veasana finished
professing his undying devotion for us, and I guess she was in a dream
because she woke up and yelled out, "I do!" (she later explained to me
that she'd been in a dream in which the mission president had asked,
'who wants the last slice of cake?' and that's what she'd been
responding to. Poor timing). Veasana was so excited, he lept up out of
his chair and ran out the door to start making arrangements.
Unfortunately since then, we haven't been able to get a hold of him to
explain the error. His phone line is tied up because he's been trying to
make reservations and book a florist and caterer. I was having so much
fun thinking up cake flavors and dress designs that I just decided to
get on board with it as designated wedding planner. Dunster was still
opposed until she saw that she could put a baby grand piano on the
registry, at which point she gave in and accepted the engagement. All
Veasana can afford right now is a ring pop, which Dunster doesn't love,
but I'm thrilled with it because it means I have a gluten-free snack
with me at all times.
Then of course, it just got nuttier when the other Cambodian
companionship crashed the car. We've been switching off every other week
so far, but now without a car, we're forced to be full-time skateboard
missionaries. President has asked that we spent 30 to 60 mins a day,
following language study, at the local skate park practicing. He feels
like we'll be much more efficient missionaries once we can skateboard
quickly, and also hopes that we might pick up some investigators when
we're showing each other skate tricks. So far, I've mastered the ollie,
the nosegrind, and a pop shove-it. Dunst on the other hand has got down
the inward heel flip and can land a frontside on a half pipe pretty
comfortably. It hasn't resulted in more teaching opportunities thusfar,
but we have learned some valuable slang and it's given us a whole new
area to draw lesson analogies from, so that's promising. (For years,
people were riding goofy footed because they didn't know how to skate
correctly. This was called the apostasy, bro.)
Finally, we've officially decided it's more worth
our time to just be full-time buddhist missionaries now. You see, all
Cambodian people out here are already members of the church, but have
been going to the buddhist temples in the years since their baptisms.
When we ask them why, they explain to us that Jesus Christ and Buddha
are the same, because they both teach us to do good and not go to jail. I
didn't know that's all it took for religions to be the exact same!
What's with all the religious confusion when all churches that recommend
we don't spend years behind bars are actually the same church? So
because Mormonism and Buddhism are so similar, we've decided to start
teaching buddhist doctrines to all we meet. It's difficult because we
don't actually know any, so we mostly just roll down the car window and
yell at kids on the street to do good and not go to jail. It's going
really well, except that we did get into a Spanglish fight with a
Mexican mother for making her son Jose cry when we asked him if he
wanted to go to jail. We called the Spanish Elders (who are now teaching
Catholic doctrine to their investigators) and they quickly cleared it
up by saying "estas chicas están locas en la cabeza" which they said
means "these girls are beautiful daughters of God so don't get upset
with them". We're so lucky to have them on our side!
That's pretty much all that's happening with
us! Oh, except that I'm in love with my district leader and I'm leaving
my mission early to marry him. I don't know what his first name is yet,
so just go ahead and tell people that his name's elder. We got matching
tattoos of our name tags over our hearts, because we love being
missionaries. Isn't that cute?
I do insist that Parson Brown officiates the marriage, because he
asked me if we were married and I said no man, but that he could do the
job while he's in town.
-Sister McQuivey
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