2014-11-24 ¿Ya tengo dos meses? Y, ¿sólo tengo dos meses? (I'm two months old? Only two months old?)‏

Wow. Look at the time. I turned two months old on Wednesday. In the field, at least. Pretty soon I'll be old enough that I'll start including the time I had in the MTC when people ask me how long I've been a missionary. All told, it's almost been ten weeks!

As promised, here is the photo of my oddest snack (I'm sorry, I know it's a cultural thing, but for my culture that qualifies as odd) to date.

Chapulin

I've had the opportunity to go on divisions twice in the past two weeks with the district leaders. Really good experiences, and they've taught me a lot. I'm excited to go out and implement! Unfortunately, not one of our investigators came to church. Some let us know before, but one family that we were sure would show didn't. It's a little disheartening, but that's the way it is. We do all we can, and then leave it to God, who always gives us our free agency. As his tools, though, we'll continue to teach the importance of Sabbath day worship, to make sure everyone understands what is being promised if they can do their part. Check out Doctrine and Covenants 20. And 3 Nephi 18. And the other scriptures. All of them. Check out all of them. You'll thank me later.

I can't remember if I've mentioned... about a month ago, I went to Veracruz (port city, mission offices) and finalized my visa, so I should be good for my whole time here. At least, I think it was about a month. It might have been last week. Or yesterday. Time here is like for the Pevensies in Narnia. And, at times, like for Rip Van Winkle.

Food... the food's REALLY good here. I've had homemade tamales, tacos (here, they're very different. And, much better!) and, of course, the grasshoppers. Todavía me falta la iguana. Un día de estos...

It's true, there's a lot of chile here. Spicy is the norm. Also, there's a lot of lime. With practically everything. And, of course, the tortillas. Super delicious! Sometime soon, I need to try tacos al pastor. It's all the other missionaries talk about. Well, that and the Gospel.

A pair of sisters in our district just had a baptism on Sunday. His name is Jesús, and he's seventeen. I can't talk much about it, but he had a lot of trouble he had to go through to make it to this point. His baptism was a really special experience.

All right, that's all for now. Pray, read your scriptures, and don't let the bedbugs bite! Bite them first! With lime and chili powder!

Elder Rob "Güeroford"

The view from our apartment window

Homemade (not our home, of course) tamales! I know, a lot of food pictures...

2014-11-17 ¡Chapulín!‏ (Crickets!)

Greetings, all, from the beautiful Ciudad Mendoza.

First things first, I believe a while ago I said that I was in the northwest area of the mission. That was patently untrue, and I apologize. The mission is shaped roughly like a boomerang, and I'm smack dab in the middle, if farther out west. If you can find Córdoba on a map, then follow it out to the left and down a little, you should be able to find Orizaba, our stake's namesake. I'm a little farther out to the west from there.

This past week we had transfers! As a trainee I didn't, technically, but pretty much everyone else did. I'm now the only United States citizen in my district. The United States of America, that is. Although this transfer (I THINK that's the English word for it... here they're called "changes") is only five weeks instead of six, so they'll come again a week or so before Christmas.

Everything's good, here! The work's progressing, and there's a family that's doing really well, with baptismal dates for December. They were a reference, too, from a member, so remember--do someone you know a favor and let the missionaries share the gospel with them!

Apart from the occasional military or police truck driving through, things have been relatively quiet. Oh, yeah, I don't think I've mentioned them, yet! Yeah, there's a large police presence here in Mexico. But it's not so much in quantity as in quality. As in, the police here literally carry around assault rifles instead of the pepper spray/pistol/baton combo you might see in Kirkland. Every so often, trucks from the military or the police (I've seen names from at least three different branches of the police... I'm curious about how many they have) with three or four officers in the back, in full SWAT gear (vest, helmet, balaclava, everything) with their rifles just pointing out the sides, scanning everybody. I hope they use their safeties. I suspect it has to do with drug traffic prevention, but I honestly have no information on that, just the ginormous guns. But they're really friendly.

And occasionally, stores will hire guards (I think they're privately hired, but again, I have no real idea) to, well, guard their stores. I once saw a man, again in that full SWAT gear, with ski mask and everything, carrying an assault rifle, guarding the front of a small bakery. I guess they have really, really good bread?

Aaaand, on to the title of the email. ¡Chapulín! My comp and I bought a couple of tortas (really good sandwiches--sorry, my Argentinian friends, not cake--they sell here) to eat in a park near the center of the city. A lady passed us, shouting out her edible wares, but we let her pass us by. At least, until I heard her yell out, "¡chapulines!" I turned to my comp, and said, wide-eyed, "¿De veras?" (Really?) He made a face, affirmed, and said, "Si quiere," (If you want to.) and gestured to the lady. I promptly ran after her and purchased my first ever cup of grasshoppers. No, really! Pictures to follow next week, if I can! A little bit of chili powder, a lime squeezed over the top, and you just munch on them. They were about an inch long, and very crunchy. Roasted, I think? I was so excited I didn't ask, just checked that they were no longer moving. Yes, I felt a little weird eating them, but how could I possibly let that opportunity pass me by? Ten pesos (less than a buck) for a small cup! Yes, that's the "weirdest" thing I've tried so far here. The food here is delicious, including their local insect life. But don't worry, Mom, I haven't tried any of the cockroaches in our apartment and I don't intend to.

I'm feeling more and more comfortable with doing the work here. It's still a bit difficult, at times, because going up and talking to strangers has always been against my nature, but this really is different. I have divine help, and I'm not here to make small talk. I'm here to invite others to come unto Christ to gain eternal life with their families. I study, I practice, I approach others, I'm rejected, I'm accepted, I teach, I explain, I invite, I rejoice with those that discover the happiness this message can bring, I'm devastated when they don't realize the importance of what we're offering, and my goal is to be better every day, a better missionary, a better person, a better instrument in the hands of the Lord. The only way I'm able to do that is by relying more and more on my Heavenly Father, to show me where I'm doing well, and especially where I'm not, to help me improve. I have a lot to learn, but I'm glad I have this opportunity to do so, the chance to really dedicate myself completely to this.

Con mucho amor,

Elder Rob Weatherford

Note from Kathy (Rob's Mom)

Sooo, just a quick note to clarify...Rob didn't have time to write a group letter last week.  Hopefully, he'll have time this week, and I'll get it up here on the blog asap!!  So glad people are enjoying reading his letters!!

2014-11-3 Week... I don't actually know. It's not two years yet?

Dear All:

At times, sure, the time flies by, but it's hard to believe that it hasn't even been two months since I was set apart.

Bueno. ¡Hola hola, caracola! (Shoutout to my MTC comp, Elder Brown)

I'd like to start out with something that touched my heart. In a Sunday School lesson, in the Gospel Doctrines class, the subject was baptism. The Gospel Doctrines class is for both those taking lessons from the missionaries prior to baptism and also for recent (within a year) converts. During one of the discussions, one of the recent converts showed the class the photo of her baptism. It was a photo of her, her family, and the missionaries that converted them. She had it glued inside the front cover of her scriptures. When my comp asked her about it a little later, she showed us that in the back, she had a picture of the temple glued inside the back cover, with the message "This is the goal" written in Spanish. She and her husband will have been baptized one year ago this month. That was really beautiful to me, and I can't wait for them to experience the joy that comes with being sealed together in the temple for time and all eternity. That's the goal of missionary work. Not baptism, because that's just the gate to the path of exaltation. Eternalization... that's one of the most important messages I'm here to share. Families can be together forever. 

All right. For lack of a better segue, I'm going to just say it: From there, I'd like to move on to Dora the Explorer. I caught my companion singing quietly to himself one day, a song that seemed very (unfortunately) familiar. When confronted, we discussed it a little bit. He was surprised to learn that in the United States, it actually teaches Spanish! Apparently, everywhere else (or, at least in Argentina and Mexico) it teaches English! So, we have phrases, like, "Swiper, no swiping!" changed to, "Zorro, ¡no te lo lleves!" (Fox, don't take that!) ("¡Ah, rayos!") We also have Frosted Flakes (Azucaradas) with good ol' Tony the Tiger ("Tiger," pronounced "teeger," different than the Spanish word for tiger, "tigre"), who says, "¡Son grrrriquísimos! ("They're 'riquísimos,' they're really delicious.)

Also, Mom - What I told you, about trusting more in the Lord than in myself and my language abilities, I'd like to explain a little more. Right now, for me, it has more to do with leaps of faith. I still study like crazy, and do all I can to learn how to speak and understand the people, but that's not trusting in myself more than the Lord. I need to work hard to be worthy of the gifts of the Spirit, including the gift of tongues. The times when I would prefer to keep my mouth shut because I don't know if I'll be able to communicate what I feel I should, those are the times when I need to trust God and open my mouth anyway, because following a prompting is more important than hesitating to speak even when I don't know exactly what to say, or even if I'll be able to express myself exactly the way I want to. I still struggle with it, but right now that's what relying on the Lord more than myself means to me.

Los quiero muchísimo,

Rob

2014-10-27 Pics! Finally!

Dear Family & Co.,

Finally got the pics! At least, some... I'll send some more after this if I have time. First, and most importantly, we have a photo from Cielo's baptism! And, I present to you for the first time, my comp, Elder Cortéz! And don't worry, I was only a little sunburned.

Elser Cortez. Cielo, Me.

Second, my first selfie! Ever, I think! I'm very proud. And also disappointed in myself... Ah, well. The backdrop is the view from the top of Necoxtla: my área, Ciudad Mendoza (Mendoza City)! To the left, at least. To the right is the adjoining área, Nogales, and you can see a tiny bit of Orizaba to the far right.

My first selfie

Now then, the week! It was a good week... I went on divisions with one of our zone leaders on Wednesday in Nogales, and got to see a different style of missionary-ing. It was actually really good, and I learned a lot.

Something that I love about my companion is the little English that he does know. He's picked up stuff from various American companions, and so occasionally he'll use an English phrase in a very Spanish accent, and it cracks us both up every time. One of his favorites is "freaking." He uses it like the elder in "The Best Two Years" uses "flip." "Freaking perro" (dog). "Freaking camión" (bus--they're super run-down, noisy, and every bump is like skydiving without a parachute). Or, my favorite, occasionally after a difficult lesson, "Freaking Satanás" (Satan).

I also had my first "major" blunder in Spanish on Wednesday. Ah, it was super embarrassing. Ok, here's how it went down: I think I've mentioned before--all across the mission, the missionaries eat lunch with members. So, Elder Cortés (note the "s," not "z." He's the zone leader) and I were with a very pleasant older sister for lunch, who served us something called "memelas," which in this case were essentially tortillas spread with beans, cheese, and pico de gallo. Extremely delicious. This sister asked me if I would like some chile on mine. (Side note: The people here are extremely nice, and will ask you if you'd like something even if it's a lot of trouble for them. Once, during a different lunch, a member asked if I'd like some more wáter. When I said yes, he left the room for a few minutes, then returned lugging a new gigantic jug. I didn't know he was out! If I'd known, I would have declined, or offered to help bring it in. So, keep this in mind when you read my response.) I didn't know if she had chile available, and because I knew that if I said, "sure, thanks," and she didn't, she would make it right there in front of me. So I wanted to say, "Oh, sister, I don't mind either way, thank you." That way, I was thinking, if she didn't have any I could save her some effort. Now, the only phrase I knew for the sentiment expressed in English as "I don't mind either way" (or "I don't care," which can vary significantly, given your tone--think about it) was "no me importa." So, very kindly, I told her that "no me importa." Elder Cortés leaned over and muttered, "Elder, you shouldn't say that." After his explanation, my apology, and a few days, I can laugh about it. Luckily the sister wasn't offended. Apparently, I had said "I don't care" in Spanish, but with the English equivalent of "Shut up/stop talking, I don't care about what you're saying!" As my companion would say, "Freaking diccionario."

One more thing--it's really funny, but whenever someone from México speaks in "mock English," what they'll do is add "-ation" to the end of every other word. A couple of elders explained it to me--apparently, that's what English sounds like. "Action," etc. So, they'll say things like, "chocolazation," or "hamburguesation." And no, the fact that the only examples they gave were of unhealthy "American" food words was not lost on me.

That's it for this week. We have an activity in the planning, a health seminar that our misión leader proposed, that should be a great draw for people and hopefully also result in a few more investigators. I love this ward, I love this work, and although it's hard at times I believe it's where I'm supposed to be, and that makes things easier. And the times where everything falls into place, you're being led by the Spirit, and you can tell that the investigator senses it, too... Those are the times that stick with you.

Con mucho amor,

Rob

(Kathy says:  "And, from last week, the photo Rob promised to Matthew of him using the train tracks as a walkway!")

2014-10-20 First Baptism!

Dear All,

Yep! First baptism! Her name is Cielo (I'm fairly positive first names are ok), and she was extremely happy to get baptized. She was already an investigator when I arrived, but my companion announced to her (and to me, at the same time, funnily enough--Read: It was not funny to me at the time.) on Monday that I would be the one performing the ordinance, if she wanted. So I baptized for the first time yesterday! It was a really special experience, and I was blessed to be a part of it. We the missionaries slapped together a hymn that we sang at the service (Divina Luz--Lead Kindly Light), and... I don't know. It was really something special.

Oh, yeah! I mentioned a day trip last week, and then completely didn't mention anything at all more about it... Heh heh. Sorry, I had, like, ten minutes to write. Ok. The trip: I mentioned that Ciudad Mendoza is practically surrounded by mountains, right? Well, last P-day we climbed one. Not really. We hitched a ride on a truck (my Argentinian comp calls them "piratas," but I think they're just called "camiones" --trucks-- by the people here--like a bus, but a little more... well, like a truck) up a "cerro" (hill, but it's pretty much mountain-size) called Necoxtla  to a trail, and then hiked up to the top. The view was absolutely stunning. You could see our entire área, the next área over, and part of Orizaba, the huge town that our stake takes its name from. Oh yeah, and occasionally the keyboard corrects my incorrect Spanish (it's called English), so there may be a few weird things going on with my writing. Sorry.

Let's see, what else happened this week... I almost got peed on by a dog. On a roof. I was surprised while contacting when a stream of urine rained down about seven feet from where I was standing. My companion and I laughed about the close call, but only after taking shelter under the overhang.

There's a really annoying song that's played by the "panadero" (bread-seller, Baker) truck that drives around everywhere. Actually no, not everywhere. I think he actually follows us. It goes something like, "El panadero con el pan, el panadero con el pan. El panadero con el pan, el panadero con el pan..." (The Baker with the bread) Repeated. Ad nauseam.

Let's see, what else... Matthew! There are railroad tracks that run right through Mendoza, and we often use them as a walking path. Don't worry, we move to the other set when the train comes. But I took a picture with the train for you!

Something funny I noticed: I don't know why, but some foreign words with a "t" or "ts" sound are pronounced like a "k." So, this week I had "peeksa" (pizza), lent my companion a "Post-ik," and did not drink any "Peksi." But I did like how here, they use condiments on pizza, like kétchup or hot sauce. It tastes really good, and it's expected!

Final thing I found amusing: It's common to put "No parking" (no estacionarse) signs in front of gates to driveways, because they aren't always easy to notice, and I assume because also without the sign, people wouldn't care and would park there anyway. Anyways, there's a sign that I've seen a few times that I love: "Respeta mi espacio y yo respeto tu coche." Respect my (parking) space and I'll respect your car. (Ah, the attitude of the people here. I love it :)

All right, that's all for this week. I love you all!

Rob

P.S. I figured out how to send photos, but they take FOREVER to download. I'll need to download them first, then write the email. So, next week... I know, I know. I have the pictures, I promise. They'll come.

2014-10-13

Rob's Letter from October 13th...last Monday.  (Computer troubles here...it's getting fixed!)

Ok, very little time, so this'll be a mini-email.

The work's going reasonably well, there have been some great moments and not so great moments that I won't write about now because I'd like to give them a little more time in a later email.

Oh, and again, no pictures. Sorry, this time it's that THERE'S NO TIME. We took a day trip today, which took a lot longer than anticipated (more about that later), and so I have much-reduced time. 

Daily schedule... We don't do any cooking, really, at all. We have lunch at two every day with different members (we're working on asking less-actives... I know, sneaky. It's for a good cause.) We don't really eat dinner, just a snack after we get home at night, and usually cereal for breakfast. But it's ok, because the members stuff us during lunch. And the food here is, of course, delicious. There are tortillas with everything, and also limes are extremely prevalent. They're squeezed over everything. Also, flavored water is big. People will often just chuck fruit with water into a blender. It's great!

I'm sorry, I forgot to talk about Conference in the last email, and I barely can right now. It was great! I watched a couple of sessions in English with an Elder who spoke decent English, but I wanted to give him a chance to hear it in his native language, too, so I watched most of it in Spanish. Again, it was great! It was especially amazing to hear the elders who spoke in Spanish, because it wasn't dubbed! And there's one joke I don't know exactly how they translated into English... I unfortunately don't remember his name, because I don't have my notes with me, but he shared the saying, "Él que no sirve, no sirve." He who doesn't serve, doesn't serve, literally, but it's funny because "no sirve" in Spanish means something more like, when said of an appliance, "doesn't work," or "is good for nothing." Also, did you know that Richard G. Scott speaks Spanish? He actually does his own "translation," by which I mean he records himself saying his talk in Spanish before the meeting, and they overlap it when he actually gives the talk instead of having it translated live. I didn't know that!

One more quick thing that I love: In Spanish, "Chucho" is a common enough nickname for the relatively common "Jesús." And so, my comp told me, it's not uncommon to hear people say things like, "Amo a Chucho." (I love Chucho.) And, best of all, one time we encountered a taxi-driver who had one of our pass-along cards with a picture of Jesus on his dash. When my comp asked him about it, he replied, "Chuchito me protege." Maybe it's just me, but I found that super funny. Ok, gotta go!

Love you all!

Rob