Letter - September 27, 2010

Toks Gynenimas (That's Life)

Wow, what an insane week. We've been fed by the natives a surprising amount, and it's taken a heavy toll on our digestive systems, especially my companion's. It's mushroom season here, and some of our investigators have cancelled last-minute because they're out gathering. It's the duty of every Lithuanian to know what kind of mushrooms are safe, how to prepare them, how to store them, what to serve them with, how they should smell, the best areas and weather to pick, and how to use mushrooms in almost every dish. They also have many desserts in the shape of mushrooms, so as not to leave them out of any phase of the meal.

Never assume you know a city. Never assume you know the bus line. In an attempt to save some time, I hopped on to a private-line bus with my companion. The bus stopped just about two blocks from our investigator's house, but we decided to wait for the next stotele (stop.) What we didn't know, is that this bus doesn't stop at every bus stop. I began to worry as the driver passed our intended stop, and then was progressively more livid at myself as he passed yet another, and another, until he was on the highway, and driving through forest, and then in a completely different area of town. We got off a good 45 minutes travel from our intended destination. Bad Sister Paul.

Our most shocking "being fed" story is from our friend Elana. She asked if we wanted some "L----" and I didn't recognize the word. She said, " YOU don't know what L---- is? I'll bring you some." She brought us a slab of raw bacon from the country, cut into thick slices, to eat just plain or on bread. For those of you who don't know this about me, I'm not a big meat eater, nor a big pork eater ( as is obvious by my ignorance of the word for Bacon in Lithuanian) and I'm especially not a raw pork eater. I did my best to pretend, but Sister Edgin and I were naughty and hid raw bacon in a bag so as not to have to eat it. I hope she never knows, because I really think she's wonderful, and am so proud of her desire to begin reading the Book of Mormon. We challenged her to read the first fr chapters, and she said it was too few. So instead, we challenged her to read the first ten, and she said that sounded better. That night, we drank some fresh Ginger tea that she made so strong, it just burned.

So, if you want to experience missionary life, eat some raw bacon for me, or get lost on a bus out in yonkers, or better yet, invite others to come unto Christ by eating their wonderful cuisine.

Sister Paul