"I am a stranger in the earth."
Dear C and A,
First, healthwise, we have been truly blessed and our prayers for health and strength answered. Other than a couple of reactions to spicy local food that goes right through, we have been healthy. We are thankful for this great blessing.
We both knew we wanted to serve a couples mission, and we decided to do it after Tom retired. You are ideal missionary candidates and your unique talents and abilities could help in many situations. You two have creative talents I can only dream of.
We started talking seriously about going early in 2016 and decided we would like to go around Septemberish. We got to the MTC October 31.
We started watching the Senior Missionary Opportunities website, watching for that posting that would prompt us to apply. I suggest you do that, then call and talk to the people named on the website for the type of mission that you feel lead to. You can ask for what you want, or take whatever. They also have more informatioin. You might get what you want, or you might get changed. But they want to send seniors where they can use their talents. I don't think you could pay me enough to be an office worker or a name extractor. (I can't see you and A doing that and liking it, but maybe that would be your dream mission.) Humanitarian is a lot of hard work, but not boring, is interesting and challenging. I also think a mission at a church historic site would be absolutely lovely.
It a tedious job getting shots, a health profile completed, legal documents such as police reports, passports or visas if you go out of country, interviews, paperwork, etc. But the missionary website helps you all along the way. Getting ready for a senior mission is much more work though, because you have to consider the lifetime accumulation of responsibilities, finances and family matters. Our daughter Mary is living in our home and has power of attorney for our finances and income taxes. We put all our bills on automatic payment. I left big box to dump our mail in - after Mary sorts out the junk mail. I bought and wrapped Christmas presents for the two Christmases we'd miss. Granted that was an unnecessary thing, but I wanted to do it.) We have WhatsApp on our phones, along with all of our children, so we have had an enjoyable exchange of photos, chit-chat, and video and phone calls, all free. (Of course you have to pay for your phone. We have t-Mobile and it has a text/data plan, and we don't worry about minutes because of WhatsApp.) So although we've missed babies, graduations, baptisms and new missionaries - we were well informed and much is shared so we feel a part of it all.) We also have Skype, but they've changed from the original version and I don't like to use it much. Before we left I felt overwhelmed going through all our "stuff" and making room for Mary's family and then when I felt fairly satisfied with my progress Tom's mom moved out of her house and I will have all of her accumulation to go through when I get home. So it may never feel like the job is completed - and thankfully we die someday and then it will be totally completed! So this is some of the kind of practical stuff. I had a hard time finding clothes for a semi-tropical climate in Utah, and resorted to Savers and DI for skirts and some tops. At the time there were a lot of short dresses and immodest tops that were in the stores, I could hardly find anything new.
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| This logo goes on boxes of donated humanitarian supplies. |
Living in this mission has been an education like no other. I didn't even know where Trinidad was. I thought it was in Spain. I thought Suriname was somewhere near Malaysia. And Guyana? All I knew was that Jim Jones and Cult drank suicidal red Koolaid in the jungle. Lizards and frogs are frequent houseguests and we have bats in the ceiling that make some black dried up bat poop that falls through the cracks and you can hear them chirp and skitter. We take a daily early morning walk around the neighborhood where we may encounter loose dogs, cats, cattle, horses, donkeys, drunk guys, barefooted, bare bottomed babies, blaring Indian music with blaring Gospel music and Soca, drummers from a Madras Indian religion that sacrifices animals, fishermen, fish, pigs, monkeys, on roads that are deeply pitted, sunken and full of animal droppings and puddles. And the smells are equally pungent. Women start cooking early in the morning and people go outside to vigorously brush their teeth and spit in the ditches which are full of everything including the kitchen sink. We say "Good morning morning." People are nice. They call to us from their hammocks, their porches, their doorways, their bicycles. Dey be talkin' Creolese an we kanna unstan, weez lernin. We buy fresh bananas and melons and fruits from a lady's cart, bread from a man that sells from his car, a megaphone advertising his wares. The wind blows in a huge gust and then the rain pours like it has been flung by a gigantic bucket, then the road dries up in minutes. Men walk their birds in little cages. The cane workers, loaded into the backs of big trucks outfitted with benches, covered with a tarp, rumble by. One entertaining dilemma we observed was when a housemover unsuccessfully tried to turn a corner and the road sunk in and the house fell in the trench. We were amazed they were able to eventually get it hoisted back onto the trailer and deliver it to the lot, where it perches atop wood pillars. The main highway, where we live, features hired cars and vans, motorcycles, bikes, donkey drawn carts, and all the above animals, as well as pedestrians waiting for a hired cars, some shaded by umbrellas or in little covered bus stops. They pass on the right, they pass on the left, the hired drivers drive like crazy and trucks are slow. We are incredibly lucky to not have killed or been killed.
The Church is small, but growing. The strong members are incredibly strong and brave. The missionaries are also incredibly strong and brave. We love them all. We see small miracles and are grateful to be serving, learning, working, loving and growing. We go to different branches every week because Tom is in the new Berbice District Presidency. We hope one day the Church will be strong enough to have a temple here.
Well, I've gone on and on...if you have anymore questions, let me know. Demke's, what say you?
Love,
Sister Catherine (I like that, sounds kind of like I'm a nun. And by the way we've worked a little with the Sisters of Charity - they are from the same order as Mother Teresa - wear the same habit. They are dear, humble and feed the poor every single day.)
