So this week was boring again. We set a lot of appointments but almost every single one fell through. They usually do, but we’re still having fun. We’re still teaching Benjamin. He said he really likes talking with us but hasn’t been able to make it to church yet because he’s a welder and usually has to work.
We’ve also been teaching another lady named Berta who’s usually home with her three young granddaughters, who love us. She too really likes us coming by and is trying to get to church.
I was in the office several times this week. Super boring. One day we had to go on splits with Elder Young so he could pay rent on every house in the mission. We had to run all around the city to almost every bank to do that. I hate being in the city, and that I know my way around it.
|In the city for bank runs.|
On Saturday we went to Torrijos Carter of San Miguelito, my comps old area, because one of his investigators was getting baptized. San Mig is wick, basically the favelas of Panama. Like take the “Nectar” and cover it in houses. And it’s huuuuge. I’m not sure I’d want to go there, though, because it’s even more crowded than where I am now.
We had stake conference, or something like that, yesterday. It was a transmission from the Centro American leaders, and Neil L. Anderson spoke. We were all in the English translation room, which was fun but awk because we had a hard time talking to people. There was a story I really liked from his talk about this kid in the Democratic Republic of Congo who really wanted to go on a mission, but needed a passport, which cost $250. So twice a day he would ride his bike 18 miles on dirt trails to a village that had bananas, and then he’d ride back with them and sell them in his village. And he was so stoked to say after 4 years of that he had enough to buy a passport, and a little extra to save. Made me feel like a fool because I spent the entire summer before I left at the beach or in the mountains.
But that story also made me think about the people here, especially the Nicaraguans. Most of them have only been here about as long as me, and left their families to come work. So they live in little cinderblock homes shared with several families. Their rooms are divided by like a sheet hanging up and they usually don’t even have front doors. Its pretty sketch and probably sucks but for some reason they’re still happy and never complain. I think they’re just thankful to have a job. This also reminds me of a quote from Yvon Chouinard, the founder of Patagonia. He said something like the easiest thing to do with your life is to make it complicated…and the hardest thing is to simplify it. Like we have all these phones and computers, and what not, that we think we need and when they’re gone we feel lost. We should learn to focus on the important things we already have and be thankful for them, rather than try to fill our lives with more stuff.
I think there’s like three weeks left in this change and then I’m out of here. I shall miss this place indeed but I am hoping for a bigger area far from the city.
Oh and that picture of the Kennedy’s shirt I had. We went to a little thrift shop and there was a very persistent salesman there that was holding up every shirt and asking if I wanted it. It was super annoying and I was kind of ignoring him, then he held up that one and I’m like, “That’s from my pueblo!!” So I bought it for $2 and I’m stoked.
|Look what made its way from Woodland Hills to a sketchy thrift shop in Panama.|
|What we eat almost everyday...chicken, plantains, rice, beans.|
Just had a lame zone P-day of playing soccer. Still not into it.