Week 9 in El Salvador

February 8, 2010

Ok, so this letter is just the generals of life right now---

The language---my Spanish is way better than before. I no longer need another missionary to translate for me in zone conferences. The members are suprised, because the two gringo elders that also started their mission in Zacatecoluca could still only say hola after the first change, at this point. The task has fallen on me to start teaching the Gospèl Doctrine class, which consists of about 15 people. They want me to learn more Spanish. They understand it, I think. I can talk to generally anyone, about generally any subject, but I am far from fluent, and still need more help than ever with this.

The food---by this point I have learned to hold down my gag reflex. There were a couple times the first week that I puked in my mouth, but I kept it in, and held it down. I finally figured out what the meat is that they´ve been feeding me every day---dog. Yum, no wonder I couldn’t place the flavor--it’s like very hard bear meat. Forgive me if the snoopy comics suddenly run out of business for the loss of their main character.

I had a soup the other day---chicken lung soup. The lungs were still intact, with all the arteries, and tubes. Lungs, even if they have been marinated in hot soup, are still surprisingly dry. Every bite dries out your mouth, and it is very gritty.

I made french toast the other day, when I found out the store had syrup. Manna from heaven.

Transportation----I have figured out the secret to riding on a crowded bus. When there is a crowd on the bus, there is nowhere to sit, so I have to stand. In the past, I’ve had to duck, because the ceiling only comes up to my shoulders. I found the secret----I just open the emergency exit hatch in the top, and poke my little noggin out the roof. No more cramps, and fresh air---life is good.

Hey, so about last week, to catch you up. ---I was talking to this one lady, and it was nighttime. I feel a something bump me, and almost knock me over into the lady. It was a drunk man. Of course. My companion took over with talking to the lady, and I went and talked to the drunk--well he had a hold of me, so I kinda had no choice. The lady said for me to be careful. The drunk grabbed a hold of my hand, yanking me down, and began to preach to me. So far, no different from any other drunk. My companion came over and helped me to get the mans hands off me, but he just squeezed harder. So, I decided to play his own game, he crushes my hand, I crush his right back. It got me free, and we ran. He was the first drunk to run after us, but lucky for us he couldn’t run straight.

Another story from last week...we went on divisions, and I was with Elder Pena. It was nighttime, and the bats were out. We couldn’t find a bus, so we got a hitch from one of the pickups. Pickups are faster (90mph depending which road), but more expensive to pay. Elder Pena was in front, and I heard a smack on his head, and he almost fell over. It was a bat, he had a mark on his head for the rest of the night.

To be safe, I’m emailing in sections, so you’ll get a lot, but they’ll be shorter, chow