This
week I kept a better list of things that happened, so now I´m not just
sitting here, staring at the screen and trying to remember what happened
this week.
The first story was
only 3/4 my fault and sucked a lot. Last Monday we were going to our
zone meeting, but we decided to just go by ourselves and not wait for
the other sisters. To get to the meeting we have to take two buses. The
stupid Ónibus system changed its route a few weeks ago, so we weren´t
exactly sure where we were supposed to get off the first Ónibus. We were
both sitting there watching the buildings and the bus stopped and
opened the door. I was thinking to myself "I think maybe this is the
stop?", and then my companion said that she thought this might be the
stop. So we ran off the bus before we missed our opportunity, because
what are the chances we would both, independently, pick the wrong stop?
We
soon realized that it was not the right stop. We were already late, so
we quickly walked in the direction of the terminal where we usually take
the second Ónibus. After a little bit we asked a man how far it was to
the terminal. He said it took about 30 minutes to walk there and that it
was just 3 stops away. We had a decision to make; it definitely does
not take 30 minutes to walk 3 stops, so one of these points was not
true. We decided that maybe it takes him 30 minutes to walk there
(Brazillians generally walk a lot slower than we do), so we decided to
just go for it. We walked and walked and walked, and after about 5 stops
we still hadn´t arrived. At that point we were super late, and we knew
our zone leaders were probably going to be irritated, but oh well. We
walked and walked and walked and we ended up on this weird sidewalk.
This has got to be the WORST sidewalk in existence. It´s crumbly and
sucky and right up against what I can only describe as a jungle wall. It
was our only option, so we kept going. Everything was just fine for
dear Sister Bruno (who´s like five foot nothing) but I was plowing
through all sorts of plants that I didn´t recognize, eating all sorts of
bugs, and started bleeding on the inside of my shoes from some blisters
I had.
In the end, we got to the meeting like an hour late, sweating buckets, but we still beat our zone leaders. :)
To
continue with this theme of "gross, dirty and sweaty", I got pooped on
by a bird. So that was awesome. We were sitting on a bench getting ready
to start a fast, and this bird poops right on me. We walked to the
nearest shop and asked the lady for some toilet paper. I explained, or
at least tried to, that a bird pooped on me. She just laughed and went
to get the paper. As she was getting it, the other lady expressed her
(incorrect) opinion that I was just lucky. In the end, it turns out that
the first lady´s husband is from Indiana. So we went back on Saturday
and talked to their whole family. They don´t live in our area, and they
weren´t super interested in hearing about the church, but it was still
kind of cool. Super weird, but kind of cool. Americans are very
distinct.
Later
that night, we were sitting in recent convert´s house, reading the Book
of Mormon. Everything was cool...We´re all so spiritual...When she
grabbed my head and started tearing through my hair. My reaction was
obviously to almost fall off my already broken chair, but luckily she
was holding my head very securely... After 5 minutes of hair tearing she
announced to the world that I have lice, and that I needed to go to the
pharmacy and buy medicated shampoo. We finished our visit, and started
the long ride home so that Sister Bruno could check my hair. It was a
VERY long ride; for both of us. I was itching all over with the idea of
being covered in bugs, and Sister Bruno kept looking at me like I was
about to grow a second head. When we finally got home, Sister Bruno went
through my hair and found it to be completely free of lice and eggs and
any other gross things. All she found was a little black fleck of dirt.
Close one. Thanks for the scare....better safe than sorry though,
right?
In
other news, I almost broke my arm this week on the Ónibus. My stage 3
technique of controlled falling was disturbed by the intrusion of
someone else´s body, so I ended up falling and catching myself on a
pole. With my arm. After that it got pretty swollen, and it still hurts
now. 4 days later. But it´s own of those stupid invisible bruises. So it
just hurts a lot but looks fine. Dumb.
We
also have been harrassing the general public. :) We were doing contacts
one day in the street and I met this guy named Alfredo. My companion
immediately proceeded to inform this poor guy that his name means a
delicious type of pasta in English. Now, every time we see him, she
tells him that she really wants pasta. Poor guy. He´s only 19, and is
pretty much being stalked by these Americans that keep telling him that
his name makes them hungry for foreign pasta.
Also,
I am very sorry if nothing in this email makes sense. I´ve proof read
it several times now and I keep finding major mistakes. The first time I
wrote the last sentence of that story it said "Americas that keep
telling they that his name he makes him hungry". It´s a real
problem...Portuguese...I blame it on the Portuguese, but let´s be real:
that sentence would be a hot mess in any language.
Anyway.
I hope yáll all have a great week! Writing letters to missionaries
would bless your week and make it even better. Just an idea. :)
Love,
Sister Peart
PS, one day I will send pictures. And videos. One day....
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