September 4, 2013...
I'm not sure if it's just because I'm becoming accustomed to the food down here or I am a beast, but my apetite has increased since 2 weeks ago. I'm forever hungry. It's awful. We've discovered a wonderful new treat, though. Alfajores. Basically a pair of soft cookies smooshed together with manjar and coated in chocolate. I think I'll try to send some home so you can taste them.
The trees are blossoming. It's sort of a strange sight because I feel like I should be going from spring into summer or fall into winter. But we're moving from winter to spring. It's really throwing me off. I keep forgetting it's winter here. It's warmer than it is during Utah's springtime.
We went contacting on Thursday last week. On the streets. It was terrifying. As we walked down the street to where we were going to contact, I kept looking at the people passing by and wondering if they were searching for the truth. I really was relying on the Spirit the entire time because I, unfortunately, cannot read minds yet. We got three addresses in the end. I felt pretty good about it. My Spanish still needed work.
So, emm. I slept through an earthquake. Yeah. I don't have anything to say about it besides that I will probably sleep through another. Unless it's a huge one. That is all.
We went running the other morning and saw a gorgeous stray dog. It wasn't like the other we normally see. They are very common and it's so sad to see them wandering. Anyway, we walked passed this beautiful dog with a chocolate brown coat and its tail brushed against Hna Binford's leg. Long story short, it followed us home and I wanted to keep him. We named him Russell. Apparently in the very city areas of Santiago, they vaccinate the dogs so they don't bite people or give them fleas or whatever. Pretty cool.
I realize I forgot to tell you the story I meant to tell you the first week. I was on the plane to Santiago and sat next to this beautiful foreign woman. She had her earbuds in and her hood over her head for a good half hour of the ride. Then somebody behind me started asking one of the other hermanas why there were so many young men in suits and ties and women in skirts and what. She explained that we are missionaries and what, then the lady next to me turned and asked if I was part of the group. I told her I was and that lead into a really long, deep discussion of why I was coming to a country so far from home. Her name was Victoria and she was flying from Atlanta to Santiago to visit friends. Long story short, I don't know how, but she seemed interested in baptism because she had been baptized into the Catholic church. I didn't know what to say, so I wrote down on a slip of paper 'mormon.org' and told her that I hoped the site would answer her questions. That is my story. I dunno what happened with her or if she will actually look at the website, but it was cool to talk to someone who had never heard of the Church before.
We went to the temple Saturday night for the last time in the CCM because they're cleaning it the next few weeks. I went through in Spanish. I understood most, if not all, of what was happening. I know that that in itself is a tender mercy because this week has really been difficult. I know that it's important that I understood because that means I am improving, despite my doubts and worries.
I don't remember ever telling you about the random goingsons in Santiago. There are streets that close in the middle of the week, where people with rollerblades and bikes without pedals and everyone seems to congregate to do this, fairly often. On Sunday, we were rushing to the CCM to get our group picture taken (it's our last week! AH!), when out of the blue, a cop stops us in the intersection. A hoard of runners sprint past, wearing a number or whatever on their chests. We all laughed a bit, wondering what was happening... 30 minutes later, the cars are backed up for at least three blocks and their horns are going off. It sounded like a group of people playing their bagpipes. We were ceremoniously crammed in two vans, the 38 of us in Alcántara, and were just laughing. A marathon, in the middle of the street, at 830 in the morning on a Sunday. The entire population of Chile and their dog that weren't running were cramped in their cars and honking. For half an hour. Random, but so so funny.
Mom, I didn't tell you last week, but my favorite scriptures are Isaias 41:9-10. Read them and discover them for yourself. Wonderful versiculos.
Hmm. I've had Hercules stuck in my head all this week. Sadly, I cannot remember the lyrics. I keep making up words in my head to replace them, but I honestly cannot recall what they are. I can go the distance... If somebody wouldn't mind, it would be greatly appreciated if you would look up the words and email them to me. Please. It's sort of an inspirational song to me because it's applies to missionary work.
Thank you, each and every one for your letters. I don't remember telling you whether I read them or not, but I didn't until just last week. I think I probably would have been further distracted and homesick if I had. I'm glad I waited because I enjoyed them immensely intead of having a sobfest over them. I loved your advice and your support and your lovely words. Thank you for all you do, especially my dear, sweet cousins. You are all treasures to me and I delight in your testimonies. (thank you, Nana for your letters. I read them all at once. I probably should have spread them out, but I couldn't wait.) Thank you mom, dad, and all my siblings, tambien. You are all amazing individuals!
Here's another funny story. I woke up randomly the other morning at 415. I looked around and wondered why I had woken up, then tried to go back to sleep, but a sentence kept running through my head. I tried to ignore it, but at long last took out my planner, wrote it blindly on a page and was finally able to fall asleep again. I read it the next morning and just laughed. I had written, 'One thing I've learned is that learning to speak Spanish and speaking Spanish are completely different'. Helpful? not really. Funny? absolutely.
We watched a devotional on Sunday in Spanish, given by Elder Holland and translated, One thing that really stuck with me is that after Jesus died, the apostles went back to what they were doing before their discipleship with Christ. Fishing. When Jesus came back, he rebuked Pedro for not continuing the work in the gospel. Jesus made him and the others disciples for life. Always. And I am no different. None of us are.I can't go back to being the person I was before when I return home. I need to be converted enough to Jesus to be his disciple for always.
I LEAVE THE CCM IN 5 DAYS!
Presidente Cook and his wife vistited us yesterday. They interviewed us each separately. It was so special. I really am going to enjoy my time with them. They are each so dedicated and sweet. I am so excited to go into the field. More on that next week, when I'm there.
You want to know something? I miss juice. Orange juice. And muffins from Costco. All Chilenos drink is Kool-Aid type stuff. Fake. And they don't believe in muffins, apparently. Which is a sin in itself.
I have forgotten all the hymns in English, and I don't know whether that is a good or bad thing. My favorite one in Spanish is Abide With Me Tis Eventide. It's been a comfort to me over these long weeks.
In Relief Society, we were taught about how the gospel blesses families. And it does. I know it. I've witnessed it. I was raised and taught these principles and my family is being blessed because I'm doing what I've been called to do. And although it's tough and sometimes I feel powerless and unmotivated to try again, I know the whole reason I'm out here is because of the strength of my parents. Their examples and beliefs in the gospel and our Redeemer are my constant examples of power and peace. My parents are two of my best friends. Through the gospel, I've realized how important families really are. We will be together for ever. God gives us families to have joy and to have a support system. Enjoy the time there with your family and enjoy the time at home.
The Lord knows what He needs you to be and will shape you in the way He needs so we can be instruments in His hands. He is God and we are to be obedient to Him. We need power. Being His instrument is the most powerful we can become.
I love you all. Each and every one. I will have the chance to telll each of you, perhaps, because I have 1.5 hours in the field for writing my family! Wooh! Anyway, I pray for you hourly. I think about you when I have a moment. LOVE this gospel. I love you.
Buenos tardes!
Hermana Castleton
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