Smile!

Someone challenged me to a smile competition the other day at service. That might have been one of the dumbest decisions of their life as they stood no chance in any universe of beating me. We work several hours at a community center that gives away free clothing, it's set up like a store and we are there to help the customers. The object was to get as many people to smile at us in an hour. I chuckled at the task. With these eyes, this hair and my big grin...these people didn't stand a chance! Naturally I smoked everyone getting 80 smiles...the next closest missionary had 30. Losers. haha. My next big challenge...humility.

 

This was a rough week for referrals. We received a ridiculous amount of fake addresses. Some were to houses that existed but other people lived there and were most definitely not interested and the others were just your plain old condemned houses on the corner. I laughed for a good 10 min at the last one we walked up to with spray paint all over the busted windows. They could have just told me no at the Pulga but instead maybe they just wanted me to have a good laugh. That's nice. Speaking of the Pulga, I picked up quite a few referrals this week with my Jesus song and dance. Don't worry, it's very conservative and tasteful...enough for the Pulga. If anyone ever thought Mormons were boring, I have for sure proven them wrong. Nice try Evangelicals! Not to point fingers. Speaking of Pulga adventures...a crazy man got ahold of one of the Hermanas, anointed her forehead with some creepy oil and started yelling some weird saving grace chant at her. The poor thing. Luckily we bring the Priesthood with us to the Pulga and they put an end to that crazytown and blessed her back to the righteous side. Yikes. I bought her some strawberries, I think those helped the most. They were way fresh.

 

Since Spain and Chile can't eat anything spicy...go figure...I have stepped up as the closer for any food they are unable to put down. Me. I eat the spicy food. That is how the mission has changed me. I no longer have a sissy tongue. I am also a better person overall...well at least a little.

 

Can we talk about how cruel Daylight Savings is to missionaries. That one hour is priceless and it was just robbed. It's going to take me two weeks of going to bed 10 min early to make up for the horror that was Sunday morning. Good heavens.

 

We taught the Restoration to a cute Filipino girl the other day who most definitely does not speak Spanish (referral mix up). She prayed out loud for the first time and afterward was so filled with 'goodness' she couldn't stop giggling and smiling. It made my heart burst as I explained to her that was the Holy Ghost and she can feel that any time she wants. I haven't seen someone so happy in a long time. It reminded me once again of the beautiful gift we have of the Holy Ghost. It's a totally legit drug for our almas (souls). She also reminded me how easy it is to feel the happiness the gospel of Jesus Christ can bring. We need only ask for it. There are just so many things in this world that seek only to distract us from the simple beauty of a warm, happy heart, but there is no greater joy. I am so happy that I helped her feel that and I'm so glad she reminded me that I can feel that too. Go get your spirit on...pray hard, be happy.

 

xoxo,

Hermana Hall

The Purple Monster

This past week was filled with glorious new experiences with my Spaniard. Since her English is a tad worse than my Spanish we spend most of the day figuring out clever ways to understand each other. I'm also teaching her the ways of American culture like the joys of a Frosty, hamburgers, pizza and shortening unnecessary words like totally to totes. Yesterday I took her to the beach and I couldn't slap the smile off her cute Spanish face. I asked her what the difference between our American beaches and her Spanish beaches are...the translation I took was her's are dirtier and everyone speaks Spanish. I am also making sure to show her the real mission life, like getting doors shut on our faces, bribing children with stickers so they'll get their parents to come talk to us and talking to crazies on the street. She loves every moment of it. I explained that in America, we just have to laugh at everything, it prevents us from going crazy like the totally wasted mustache woman we just passed stroking her cat and talking to herself. I think she got it. I took her to her first Pulga (flea market as you might recall) and I literally pushed her out into the walkway and gave her the thumbs up. She doesn't even need me, she's already a pro. While she was preaching the good word, I was eyeing the merchandise nearby. Next to our spot, gleaming in the sun, I saw this mysterious pile composed of the most beautiful purple color I've ever seen in my life. It was calling my name, but what on earth was it? I must find out so naturally, I sent an Elder over to check it out. My heart was filled with anticipation - I felt like I was on antique roadshow and I just discovered a royal cloak from Europe worth millions! As he leaned down to pick it up the owner shouted $10! The Elder yelled back, "I'll give you $5, Hna Hall, pay the man!" "But what is it?" "I don't know but, I know you want it." It's true, I did. I paid the man and went on our way. Now...my typed words can not do this story justice, but let's just say I fell in the classic trap of greed. What I had just purchased, from the flea market, was a royal purple, VELVET, king size blanket with matching pom-pom fringe on the ends. Yes, fringe. It weighs 20 pounds, is most likely covered with actual fleas and was carted all the way back to my apartment by Elders telling the entire mission that Sister Hall bought a monster from the flea market for $5. However, now that I own such a beauty all I can think about is how on earth am I going to be able to tack this on the wall...the purple monster has truly found it's home. 

 

We had 5 baptisms this weekend. Ahem, I don't mean to brag, but I can't help it. They were amazing. One poor lady had to be dunked three times, she just couldn't keep her arm down, poor thing. I thought after the first she wasn't going to do it again and then after the second failure, I thought I was going to have to jump over the glass and hold her down before she ran out of the building screaming...but she did it. Phew. To balance out all of the baptisms, we decided to drop all of our non-progression investigators which means we are left pounding to the pavement looking for former investigators and any new prospects the Lord puts in our path. I pretend like I'm intentionally giving my trainee a taste of the real mission life, she seems to love it so I won't mention the part about me being a little freaked out to not have anyone set to teach. I know all my English speaking missionary friends hate me right now, but I was given a beautiful gift to be in the Spanish program...they ALWAYS want to learn about Jesus. They LOVE Jesus. It's the water part they don't love.

 

This week in Yerba Buena, I learned how to make pupusas which are the best things I've ever put in my mouth that I made with my hands and I helped my Spaniard make tortilla de patatas which is basically a Spanish quiche. It was divine. She promised she'd teach me how to make paella and I told her I'd teach her how to make American food...at McDonalds. We are so lazy.

 

Now, for the temporal and spiritual lesson I learned yesterday at the beach. We all had a mighty fine blast and knew that we would want to properly document the trip so we all took all of our cameras and while we played we left them there, in their bags on a blanket. After our joyous romps on the beach we headed back to the bus to review our day via image. Thanks to the wind and other unavoidable circumstances...aka Elders...all of our cameras suffered death by sand. All. Those tiny grains of sand found their way into every crevice of our delicate electronics and just destroyed them. (yes, I am fully aware that I am gaining a reputation of having my camera in places cameras should never be, but the beach will never be as horrific as a Turkish toilet.) As I lamented the loss of another camera on the bus ride back I thought about the sand in our lives (I don't want to say crevices because that sounds really crass). Those little sins, those little bad habits...they just sneak right into our lives. They hide themselves and as they do they slowly break us down until we can no longer move. Of course we can be proactive and try to protect ourselves from the sand and wind, but we are human and sand is very tiny. We continually need to shake ourselves and sometimes get a big puff of compressed air to clean out all that junk. Thank heavens for the ability we have been given by Jesus Christ to review and cleanse ourselves daily. Take advantage of it. Use it. Get that sand out, it's so flippin messy and it's really expensive to fix when it goes too far.

 

xoxo, 

Hermana Hall 

The Spaniard

How many missionaries does it take to totally freak out a ward? 6. I've collected three new sisters in my area this past week. A Chilean, a Spaniard and a blond. We are quite the team. There are also still 2 Elders and we all cover the same ward. It's intense. I thought we'd all be staring at each other for awhile trying to figure out what to do with a mass of missionaries, but turns out there is a ton of work to do and we've been running around so much we could probably even use more missionaries. The three new sisters spoke in church on Sunday and I could just see everyone's eyes getting really big as they were probably thinking about how many referrals they were going to have to come up with now. haha.

 

I got the Spaniard. I am so lucky. Everyone is so jealous of her and her sweet accent. It's been super awesome for me because she is trying to learn English so in order to communicate I have to speak in Spanish. In the process I'm learning that we make no sense in English. It's been good times. The day I picked her up, the APs told her she was going to be with someone who is really spunky. We spent the next hour trying to figure out how to explain that in Spanish. I think she's got the general idea of it out now. She's my first Spaniard and I'm her first Texan. We are so adorable. I did make sure to ask her if it was ok that I called her my Spaniard. I'm not sure she understood me, but she said it was fine so I'm going with it.

 

There was a serious shortage of teachers on Sunday so all the Hermanas ended up teaching the 16 yr old Sunday School class and Young Women's. It was probably my favorite Sunday yet. At first I was afraid I was going to be super terrible because I'm so old and not hip anymore, but then I remembered that's not even close to true and I'm super hilarious...and humble. We talked about how we could develop better scripture study habits and actually got all of them to agree and be slightly excited about having a weekly Book of Mormon study class. 16 yr olds. I know, I'm just as shocked. In Young Women's we talked about how to cope with death by basically teaching them how to teach the missionary lesson on the Plan of Salvation so now I've trained an entire army of women to be mini-missionaries. This ward is going to turn into the city of Enoch any day. I wrote that down as a goal in my planner. Totally reasonable.

 

Last night for ward FHE we decided to talk about obtaining the attributes of Jesus Christ. In Preach My Gospel there are 8 and we are going to work on a new one each week. We started with faith last night and talked about the importance of having faith in Jesus Christ and how we could work to develop this. What I enjoyed the most about our discussion is that faith, in order to be something, must be turned into an action word. There is that famous scripture...somewhere...faith without works is dead. I've learned this better on my mission than I think any other point in my life because I've seen people who have applied it and seen miracles, and people who refuse to apply it and shockingly...nothing happens. As we act on our faith by following the example of Jesus Christ, keeping the commandments and bettering ourselves, we open the gates of heaven for miracles to occur. Faith is truly the foundation of all godly power. Our faith is exercised everyday in the actions we do, and our Christlike actions give us the access to all the blessings of our Heavenly Father. We set goals of temple attendance, scripture study and serving/loving others as ways to strengthen our faith in Christ. I would encourage anyone to join us on this journey of the 8 attributes of Christ. Study and practice with us...beginning with faith in Jesus Christ.

 

xoxo,

Hermana Hall 

Peace Out Transfer

This past week went by so fast that I'm sitting here trying to remember what to share and my mind is totally blank. I didn't even have time to make cute notes about all my adventures/embarrassing moments. Shame. I just finished another transfer too- I can't believe it. I will be getting a new missionary on Thursday - she could even be 19 - woah...so I've mostly been trying to prepare for that so I seem like a missionary that has all her stuff together. haha. Dreams.  

 

Have I mentioned that we teach an English class twice a week? I love it. It's almost as fun as BINGO with old folks. It's the two times out of the week where I feel like I have the language advantage and I enjoy it. I also love teaching them funny words and helping them pronounce 'v' and 'b' correctly so people don't think they want more berries when they say thank you very much. It's illuminating me with a greater awareness of weird words we use and why we pronounce things the most confusing way possible. I'm glad I grew up speaking English cause it seems pretty hard to learn. Also I had the entire class laughing like 12 yr old boys when they taught me the Spanish word for fart - either it's way funnier in Spanish or it's the white girl thing again. Maybe both.

 

I have been designated the mission chorister so I now lead the music at every mission function. It's truly an honor...until I realized it meant I had to be early to everything and I have to lift extra weights to keep my arms from now getting tired out after the 3rd verse of the Spirit of God. But...I love the compliments. I never thought the chorister would get compliments, but I do and I like them, not gonna lie - keep em coming. After directing the outgoing fireside on Sunday people came up to me with the sweetest/most bizarre compliments. Among them includes: "You look like an angel up there!" ~Cute Sister and oh how sweet. "There is no one more qualified for this job" ~the APs. "You're the best chorister I've ever seen." ~NY Times. "I love the way you wave your arms." ~Awkward Elder. And my favorite, although it left me slightly confused as to whether it was good thing or something I maybe should work on: "I love how much you smile, it doesn't look like you're singing, it looks like you're standing up there waving and telling a great story...and I just want to know what it's about." ~two different people at different times. 

 

In other news I had to put hot sauce on my pizza the other day because it was too bland. I'm evolving!

 

Anyway, that's about it for this week. We are super behind on everything and I've got to go train two new sisters in this area that somehow I have to split up in 2 days. Yikes. This week is going to be cra-cray. Wish me luck! 

 

Also, all the missionaries keep telling me that after your halfway mark in the mission, you stop getting mail. Please prove them all wrong! hint, hint...wink, wink. Love you all. Oh and also, don't forget to read scriptures every day...and do other spiritual things. Thanks, the Missionaries and God.

 

xoxo,

Hermana Hall

Oh, it's goat. NBD

I ate a goat. All of my emails are about food. It was fine, I didn't mind it, but it had so many bones and cartilage and weird chewy things I just pretended that I was eating normal meat so I wouldn't vomit on the table - that's just not how you want to lead into a lesson. I did ask if I was eating a chuppacabra (they aren't real, mom). They giggled at my American accent - it's so cute. Anyway, add goat to my list of foods I had to eat/survive on the mission.

 

We took the bus to Santa Cruz yesterday. It's super hilarious to see a bunch of missionaries on the beach. It's more hilarious before we change and we're walking around in skirts and ties. A bunch of weirdos. Anyway, it was a great day to look at the water. There are also a ton of seals that hang out at this beach. Some of them are cute and some of them are disgusting and ugly. I guess that's the same with people. They are also very loud and are not embarrassed by pooping in public. Lovely.

 

I totally translated in church. What? Yes, I did that. It was far from perfect, but it was better than nothing. I got a little lost at one point and couldn't recover fast enough so there was some dead air for a bit. Oops. I could see all the English speakers looking over at me in sheer panic so I just started staying stuff that may or may not have been close to accurate. I might have taken some translation liberties...it seemed legit. Plus I think they got the point it was something about Jesus and faith. haha.

 

Hilarious encounters for the week include my companion getting beat by tongs. This fella got really mad at something she said and he just came right on back with a flick of the metal tongs. I almost burst out in tears of laughter but then I realized he was like legit ticked off and that might have made things worse. We left the scene rather quickly and had a good laugh on the way to the car. No one was injured in this occurrence or in the retelling of it.

 

I re-read an article in the Ensign the other day about addiction. I needed a reminder. ha. No, but it's really good. It takes us back to the time of Moses when the fiery serpents are attacking the people and the Lord provides a golden serpent of healing - all they have to do is look. Of course there are those that do this simple task and are completely healed and then there are others that find it too insulting, it's just too easy - it can't possible heal them and they refuse to look. The article goes on to apply this to addictions. In today's world we are being attacked by all kinds of fiery serpents, and we have also been giving a golden staff to look to, He is Jesus Christ. I love how the author points out that although the complete process of healing and/or repentance is not necessarily easy, the solution is. We are simple asked to look to our Savior, leave our burdens/sins/pains at his feet and follow Him. Everyday, as missionaries, we try to extend this simple invitation to people and everyday it's simplicity and power is rejected. Today's world clouds the way to health, but the staff is always there for us to look towards. It's a daily thing, we must seek to be healed every day but I know that if we stay focused on Jesus Christ we will surely save ourselves from fire blowing snakes. It really is that simple and oh how beautiful it is.

 

xoxo,

Hermana Hall

Que lo coma

They made me eat a cricket. Ick.  I did not enjoy it. While at a recent covert's home the other night, enjoying a nice dinner of beans, they pulled out this bag of red things and everyone started cheering and putting then in their mouth. I had no idea what was going on and couldn't understand the word they were saying so finally my companion leaned over and said, it's a cricket, want one? What the...NO! For the next 20 minutes I was harassed, taunted, mocked, scoffed and even threatened to be kicked out of the house if I didn't try the cricket. They started pounding on the table and chanting "Que lo coma!' (Eat it, wussy face) and I finally gave in. I closed my eyes and stuck out my hand and my companion passed me one which I immediately dropped because I was holding a cricket! I took a few deep breaths and then just shoved it in my mouth. After one crunch I was done for, as I started to scream realizing half of it was still stuck in my teeth. Ewwww. I drank an entire bottle of orange fanta to wash it out, while everyone at the table was laughing their little hearts out. I was paranoid the rest of the day that I had legs sticking out of my mouth. Gross. I for sure flossed very thoroughly that night.

 

Confession: I watched the Super Bowl. I am justifying this by the fact that we also taught a lesson to new investigators during the game. I'm not really sure how we did that, but we did. Of course we all took a moment to watch the halftime show. Man, that Beyonce sure looks good...but she burned my retinas with all the scandalous moves. I couldn't take my eyes off it! They had to physically pull me into the other room. This is what happens to missionaries. Media comas. Anyway, it really helped having the stadium lights go out so we could finish the lesson. In fact, that might actually be why the lights went out. I wouldn't be surprised.

 

My recent convert has started calling herself my spiritual daughter. Hm. Indeed. This was right after she knelt down before me to give her extended gratitude for me saving her soul. It felt so Book of Mormon...then awkward. I decided it's nice that she sees missionaries this way...as long as she keeps it a normal amount of crazy. One thing is for sure, the missionary life is never predictable. Thank heavens cause we could get really bored out here.

With a belly full of flan the other day, I realized the latins are trying to fatten me up. I'm not really sure what they intend to do with me afterward, but it's for sure a conspiracy. They also like to trick me into eating spicy chiles. They love to watch my reactions. I feel like I'm in a circus without even knowing it...like Pinocchio. I swear I'm a real white girl. No matter what, I still seem to provide an endless amount of entertainment at dinner appointments. Whether I'm saying ridiculous things on accident in Spanish or just making a fool of myself, I provide lots of opportunity for laughter. Just last night I noticed there was sour cream all over my dress and the table...what the, how did I? Then I realized when I sat down my owl pendant had gone head first into the cream on my enchiladas and I'd been dragging the owl dipped necklace all over the place. How embarrassing. Later I announced that "I was really hot" and not the temperature kind. Everyone agreed and laughed hysterically. Hey, at least they all agreed. White girls.

 

On a side note, there are geese outside our apartment that I'm pretty sure are trying to kill us.

 

On Sunday we had an excellent broadcast stake conference featuring Elder Perry. The first guy directed his remarks towards teens and YSA's and then started talking about germs...hm interesting. He lost me for a bit, but in the end I really liked it. He talked about how when we don't have an understanding of something we make false assumptions about it. This was related to the discovery that germs can be transmitted by hand and therefor it's a good idea to wash your hands - which is now a big duh. He then went on to clarify the differences between the natural and spiritual world and to be careful that we don't explain the things of the spirit away by worldly teachings. I loved this. We are spiritual beings and as such we can learn a lot more by the spirit than by that of the world. He gave us some tips on how we can stay in tune with the spirit so we are not fooled, reverence during church and getting rid of the static of sin so we don't drown out the spirit. A good reminder. Elder Perry then spoke about missionaries so I felt famous. They are really encouraging members to step up their game and find us referrals - talking to friends, being a friend and sharing the gospel openly. I can see how it sounds like a lot, and how it might be scary but trust me, we need it! It makes such a difference to have members doing this and it turns out it's not that scary after all. Please use the resources the church has set up, Mormon.org, Facebook, pass along cards. Help us spread the good news, plus you'll get blessings. Hooray blessings!

 

xoxo,

Hermana Hall

Queso de amor

We had a stellar bilingual baptism on Saturday. It was the first baptism I've had where the person was actually on time to their own baptism and there was virtually no drama. It was like a dream. There were so many people that came (can't complain about that at all), we had to move into the Sacrament Room and there were so many white people that showed we had to have it in English and Spanish...even the hymns. I was conducting the music so I'd sing one line in Spanish and the next in English - that was a trip. Some how it worked even with no one singing the same words at the same time.

 

After the baptism, President took us out to a buffet. He and his wife didn't have enough time to eat with us but President is the type of man that can't sit still so while he 'watched our purses' as we gathered our first plate he walked around collecting plates for the table full of items he thought we might need to snack on during courses...like rolls and steak. It was the funniest thing every when my mission president came back to our table with a plate piled full of steak and onion rings. Very thoughtful. His wife sighed and lovingly commented on how he was a keeper. Indeed. I will now be measuring my future husband by the standard of a steak plate for the table.

 

I know I am only across the street, but I feel like I'm in a different country. I only speak Spanish, it's way colder and the food is killing me. My companion has been telling all the families that my poor white girl stomach is not accustomed to Mexican food yet. They all chuckle and give me a wink and then make some joke about the little white redhead girl from Texas. I'll take it because I really can't handle it! My body is literally rejecting the food. I'm not really sure what the difference is - maybe it's the quantity, that's certainly gone up. I've also had a lot spicier food over here on the other side of the street. Go figure. Somehow they still like me and let me come into their homes. My lack of eating skills must be compensated by my cute Spanish quips...or the hair. I talk about food a lot. It's an hourly concern. Seriously, I had to eat so much cheese the other day to express my love for these members that I could have built a cheese house (oh Phebes). Speaking of food...we teach a street vendor several times a week. He sells food I've never seen in my lifetime and some of it I'm still afraid of, but people seem to buy it all. We meet up with him wherever he is vending at that moment with his little three-wheeled cart. It's so fun hunting him down then praying and reading scriptures right there on the street - I feel like such a foreign missionary when we do that! He's really progressing and I occasionally enjoy the fruit drinks and mayonnaise/cheese covered corn, but I do not care for the pickled pork skins. I'm good.

 

Obedience. Yikes. That was the theme at this past week's Zone Conference and it was intense. The President's wife even pulled out secret combinations and scared us straight to the bone. I am pretty sure my eyes were glued open in sheer panic the rest of the day. But it was clearly needed. It seems like each missionary has their own little or big lesson on obedience. One thing I've learned for sure is that in order to be a happy missionary you have to be obedient - that doesn't mean that you are happy all the time or things are perfect, but if you are truly happy - you are probably obedient. And it's the little things that matter. I was being a slacker pants with my personal study last transfer and I had no idea how much I was just torturing myself for that. It wasn't until I re-dedicated myself to good, daily study that I remembered how important and helpful it is. It's no joke, reading the scriptures every day is a little thing that really does have a huge impact whether we notice it or not. It's there, I swear. We've also been working on time, getting out of lessons, getting home on time - these things are super important so much so that the other day we were in a super late lesson and when we finally got out I was like we have to run. RUN. And run we did. I ran so fast that I am pretty sure I broke my heart and I couldn't breathe for like 5 hours - I was a coughing and wheezing disaster. That was my punishment. If I'm late, I have to run and when I run it's a horror show...like an old lady trying to do jumping jacks (I don't really know what that's like but when I picture it, it seems about the same as me trying to run a half mile). Anyway, obedience is the key to happiness whether the rules might blow or not. If it sounds like a broken record it's because we don't get it otherwise. My bad.

 

xoxo,

Hermana Hall