Simple Gifts

Audrey Hepburn said you can tell what kind of woman a man thinks you are by the kind of earrings he gives you. Only one man has ever given me earrings and I married him. (They required that I get my ears pierced so I guess he thought I was fancier than I am, but that's a story for another day.)

The gifts we've received recently have been so perfect you just have to believe that people know who we really are.

A morning at the farm where I got to dig my fingers into a kinky lamb's 

wool coat as he stood on his little wobbly two-day old legs.

Balls of hand-spun wool yarn, wooden knitting needles and a crochet hook with a hand-made clay cooking pot from one of our most diligent students that we teach and fix dinner for once a week.

An invitation to a typical almorzar (lunch, but really dinner) after a teaching appointment
in a home in the country. Yes, she cooks like this every day at noon.

We receive much more than we give on this mission!

The Miracle of the Berliners

....not to be confused with The Miracles of the Loaves and Fishes. This was DESSERT!

Last week we decided to ask new-member-George (Hor-hay) to make some of his specialty filled doughnuts for us to share at the Fundo. Why yes,  Chile is a perfect place to find German pastry of this variety, surprisingly.

We debated how many to request since so many workers have been laid off for the winter. When we took cookies a week ago there were about 25 trabajadores. I suggested to be safe we should have him make 40 or 50. In true Jay fashion, "Elder Bagley" (aka: "Bagley" or, at times, "Val," the previous missionary) ordered SIXTY Berliners and arranged to pick them up at noon today from his humble home.

The aroma was tantalizing as we sped to the first of two comedores where the workers eat lunch, but we restrained ourselves from trying one in the interest of getting to both places on time. We were amazed at the number of men and women that were working today. Tables and vans full of people just finishing their break who were so happy to see us bearing dulces! Many thanked us in English and we were on our way to stop number two.

The huge tub of pastries had diminished considerably. I counted only 13 remaining, and fearing it wouldn't be enough, made Jay go count the number of men. He came back to the car in 3 seconds saying, "It 'll be close, but we can figure out what to do if there are more people than that."

Nervously we began passing them out. Seven in the first area. Smiles all around. Six left. A bunch of guys are playing ping-pong and watching the game. I'm afraid it's more than six--I can't tell if anyone is in the corner of the room. Well, here goes. One. Two. Three. Four. The ping-pong players. Now the watchers. One, two......we scan the room, check out the corners, the porch....it's enough. Just barely.

We don't care a bit that our portion was the joy of having "suficiente." Oh, and that heavenly smell.

The Church in Chile: thoughts at the 6 month mark

Those who think that Mormon women don't wear pants to church have lived on the Wasatch Front too long. Here, it's maybe even more common than wearing skirts, or dresses. This winter, I've taken to both--well, really just yummy black long-johns under a skirt with fur-lined boots on my feet; but many or even most women are in pants. Nobody cares.

I love how every person greets every other person at church with a "como esta?" and a kiss on the cheek for women and children, even teenagers, and quite often men. As we have come to know people better, the kiss on the cheek comes with a tight and extended hug around the back, too. I. love. it. I did, however, buy the wrong kind of glasses before we left. These frameless ones invariably end up lopsided and smeared. Again; nobody cares.

Chile has a very low church activity rate--something like 16 percent. We see a good solid base of people at church, but there is also
 a percentage--maybe 30 percent--who seem new to us every week. With four sets of missionaries it's probable that some are investigators, but I just have to conclude that lots of members only come occasionally. This has got to be a focus as we move toward becoming a stake again. (Yes, Chile has a lot of branches and districts that used to be wards and stakes. We are working toward mature discipleship--my words-- and measured growth this time around.) Our great neighbor (in K-town) Jill Mills talked about the wards of the Church relying on STP (a fuel additive for cars), but in this case the Same Ten People; so in a way, it's a problem everywhere. We have a clot of folks who do everything, and others participate if they feel like it. BYU had a slogan, "fully committed," which is a good goal for individuals, families, wards and branches. There would be no having to rely on the STP if everyone were fully committed and carrying their little bit of the load. Wouldn't that be heavenly!? Fully committed, Not STP.

So I'm thinking about conversion. It's not really "carrying the load" that matters. It's enjoying the fruits of the Gospel. What does real conversion do to a person? It makes them different. Two of our students that have been members less than a year have told us at one time or another that they are "better" men. It is noticeable to others. These people radiate love and testimony and goodness. "By their fruits ye shall know them."

The young LDS managers on the farm--returned missionaries, often English-speaking college-graduates--are impressive to their peers. One man, not a member of the Church, tried to explain to us the quality of men he works with, "They are.... (he struggled in Spanish to find just the right word) ....noble." And they are. After a full day's work on the Fundo, they go out with the missionaries, or they lead in Branch Presidency Meetings, or they participate with their families in English classes, or they watch over a Young Men's activity, or fulfill the goal to attend the temple every week--returning home just before midnight. They are anxiously engaged. Unselfish. Impressive. Yes, noble.

The olive trees provide many metaphors, but for this topic, the care and attention to the newly planted trees is apropos. The new directions from the Missionary Committee are critical--watching over our converts for at least a year--preferably years--as they are assimilated into the ward or branch with friends, callings and being nurtured by the Good Word of Christ. Every member needs the care we give to an orchard we love and have hopes for. The hugs and kisses we receive on Sunday are but a start, and if a person isn't attending regularly, they miss even that (not to mention renewing covenants with the Sacrament and the spiritual nourishment available only in that sacred setting). The trees can't tell us when they need water, or fertilizer until it's way past time to apply it. Similarly, our members don't give off obvious signals that they are in need. This is our challenge throughout the Church and in our families. If we have tasted of the fruit, and know that it is good, how can we share it?

Juntos

Juntos means "together" in Spanish and it is our motto for our mission. We have found assorted pieces of wire on our walks through the Fundo, just lying on the ground. We would pick up these scraps when we encountered them and eventually began searching for just the right O or S. Once we learned this word, we were on a hunt to complete it, with its initial heavy-gauge letter "J." We also have the word "love" spelled out with a perfect curly L from barbed wire, which was probably the letter that got us started on this treasure hunt. Both words are the sum of our wall decorations in our little home in Chile.

At one of our favorite family's houses, we were introduced to the word juntos as the couple described for us building their house together, with smiles of pride as they looked into each-others' eyes. It truly is a home--the words el hogar, which breathe hearth, fireside, warmth and welcome-- from the gate entrance posts that support an ancient wooden oxen yoke, to the newly enlarged kitchen with its wood-burning stove and plenty of room at the table for any and all who show up. This family and their home radiate togetherness.

I think we're getting better at this juntos thing, too. After nearly 50 years of marriage, and now being together almost constantly, I think we're getting closer to understanding it. Kahlil Gibran's words on marriage used to trouble me-- I wanted no "spaces in (our) togetherness," I wanted to "drink . . . from one cup." Now I think I understand the lines, "And stand together yet not too near together:
For the pillars of the temple stand apart,
And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other's shadow."

It means that we don't need to be embarrassed by each other's silliness, or mistakes, or foibles. "People get to be who they are." This includes those we married or gave birth to. How freeing! I'm not responsible, I'm not the judge; I get to be a spectator, giving them the space and the benefit of the doubt as I would a stranger--more even, because I know them intimately.

My leftover vegetables for breakfast (beets with salt today) and Jay's need for traditional breakfast fare can coexist happily. Jay's fluent Spanish and my teaching experience aren't competing and complement each other perfectly on this mission divinely inspired just for us. His willingness to be the driver works with my "knitting madly to keep my eyes off the road" coping strategy; and he has learned not to take it personally when I ask him (yes, scream) to slow down! We can read scriptures from both English and Spanish: the same verses at the same time, trading roles; sometimes me in Spanish, sometimes him, and get more out of it than we ever did alone.

My goal in being a principal was to learn what I needed to learn. My goal on my mission is to become what I can become. With God's help, and with Jay's--juntos--I am trying.

Al-righty then!

After trying to post many times and finally resorting to FaceBook, I'm back to see if time and being ignored has worked its magic on this blog site. If yes, I'll be back. If no, not many minutes wasted.

Well, well, well. I think this is going to work. I love Day One as a journal, not so much for a blog. I don't want my business being THAT public, and know only die-hard friends will ever check this blog.

Lots to catch up on if this were that sort of a blog, which it isn't. What it is, I'm not quite sure, but today I want to think about my progress in the Spanish language.

At times I think I'm getting better; and then someone tries to tell me something and I smile and nod (no-nos when you really have no idea) and you hear one say to the other, "She didn't understand a thing." Well, I understood THAT, thank you very much.

I am putting phrases together. Something like, "How many days ....to visit....your father....in Santiago..to finish?" Or, "At what time is the .....World.....toy....today?" Then, it's time for the Chileano to say, "I don't understand." I try again, "At what hour is the....football...." "Oh! Partido! A las quatro---at four o'clock." They say the last part in English.

Well, I am here to teach English. Should I be pleased or discouraged?

 Yep, completo-style hamburgers: a thick layer of mayonnaise, another of mashed avocado and a layer of tomatoes: Whopper Italiano. It was a mistake, can I just say? Next time I spring for American, I'm going American. Maybe next July Fourth.

The Fourth of July was spent yarn shopping with these two beautiful women: Hada and Sarah. I thought it was Ada until I saw her ID card. H is silent in Spanish. It reminds me of the British fellow in our tour group in Peru, who said his name was "Buuuh." Spelled B-e-r-t. I guess if you say your name is Buuh, your name is Buuh, and if you say your name is Ada spelled Hada, that's the way it is. Alrighty then.

Autumn Redo

How great is it to be able to "Fall Back" twice in a six month period? Yes, Daylight Savings Time ends in Chile in a couple of weeks and we get that extra hour we didn't ever lose. We enjoyed our first rain here since we arrived and look forward to more. The dusty trees were thankful and another 40,000 or so are being planted before the cold weather hits. A few types of trees are losing their leaves and autumn colors are all around. My new fireplace is an electric heater I huddle around.

I just can't quite shake the thought, though, that with winter just around the bend, I need to start getting ready for Christmas. Someone gave us fresh brevas, aka figs, which I have enjoyed with blue cheese for a number of meals, but they were starting to spoil, so we made them into fig cookies with walnuts (which they call mariposas--butterflies--here, appropriate if you consider their shape) and it's hard not to eat them all at a sitting. Fresh figs are nothing like the dried variety--they are so delicate and mild. I love both kinds, but these were a first for us despite decades of enjoying fig newtons. Figgy pudding has to be just around the corner!

We gave a presentation Wednesday on "Why Learn English?" to a group of English students at a high school in town. It was so much fun. As we researched the topic, we became more aware of just how lucky we are to have grown up with English, and how universal it really is. It's the language that technology, medicine, science, international business, the media, news, politics and so many other fields depend on. I guess we can thank the British Empire for taking the language to places as far-flung as Australia, India and Africa; but we Americans have done our part to ensure that it's the agreed-upon language when people of the world need to communicate. When we first received this call I was afraid that people would think we were pushing our language on the unwilling. That is far from the truth. People realize that knowing English opens doors that they want to enter--career, travel, advancement in almost any field.....  The students were eager to hang around and visit with us after, begging us to come again. A couple of the boys said Jay was their hero because he was a pilot--their dream. Of course pilots communicate in English, so they are especially motivated. One of the things I jokingly told them that knowing English would do for them is allow them to know what the words on their T-shirts mean. They are almost all in English.

For my birthday, Jay took me out to eat at an Argentinian restaurant. Here's a picture of the carne platter that fed us for three delicious days: beef, pork, chicken, sausage and roasted potatoes over a charcoal fire on the table. Que rico!

Some church-y mission things:

• Outfitted the young Elders (oxymoron? Oxymormon?) with reflective vests and then busted them when we came upon them not wearing them while riding their bikes on a dark, dangerous road a few days later. We feed these yay-hoos every Tuesday and want to protect them like our own sons.
• Cleaned the church for a few hours--first time it had been cleaned since we arrived, I think--on a couple of Saturdays. Discouraging.
• Provided pocket-sized hymnals to the missionaries so that investigators and new members can sing along with those who know the words or have their own hymn books. We have ordered 100 of the bigger ones for the chapel and have determined ahead of time that if they walk off, that's okay. People need to be able to sing.
• 
• Had several groups of our students attend church two weeks ago to a special meeting where the Mission President and his wife were featured speakers. (They looked down at the congregation and saw us and wondered how the heck they didn't know about this never-before seen senior couple. Were were really missionaries? We don't belong to the Mission, but to the Presiding Bishop's Office and Farmland Reserve. Yes, we have the name-tag and everything.) Some of these not-yet-members also watched or listened to conference. Yay! It was such a good conference and the feedback has been very positive. We were glad the chapel was relatively clean.
• Between sessions of conference, we took home-made cinnamon and orange rolls around to most of the families we visit and teach. We first were just going to take them to the ones "on base" --the farm-- but kept extending our route. I think they now have a greater understanding of why Americans tend to be fatter than Chileans ; )
• I'm teaching a couple of our students to knit--well, helping them make baby blankets. They really knew how to knit but just hadn't done it since they were 12. It is a good chance for communication in both English and Spanish. We also have a Wednesday "craft" session with wives of some of the farm supervisors. They are some of our English students, too.
  
  

Barbie Dog

Dogs everywhere!

Jay and I see this dog regularly hanging around one of the employee eating pavilions. At the same moment I was thinking that it was the very image of a fashion model, Jay said out loud, "Barbie Dog." Synchronicity.