December 5, 2006 (MTC)

Ahhhhhhh. Christmas music. T’isn’t the Season without it. Thank you, Dad, for sending me an emergency supply.

Well, I was going to tell you that Sister Mwatieta is leaving this Wednesday, but now, once again, we don’t really know when she’ll be leaving. They had it all lined up for her to go to the Salt Lake City Mission, but she has been having problems with her eyes being severely dried out. At her most recent trip to the doctor, she was told that the medication she was on wasn’t working fast enough. Now she’s waiting for the doctor to say she’s ready before she can go. She has been here since September 4.

I took my third trip out into The World for a doctor’s appointment (none of which have been for me) this past week. We had to pick up a new prescription for Sister Mwatieta so the MTC shuttle dropped us off at a Rite Aid which just happened to be right next to Macey’s, a grocery store I frequented in my crazy college years, i.e. just a few months ago. It will be much easier to feel like I’m on a mission once I get out of Provo.

Well, the Rite Aid experience was exciting for two reasons. First of all, Sister Mwatieta [from Kiribati in the South Pacific] had never been in any kind of American store before, so we got to learn all kinds of new words like “pharmacy” and “convenience store.” It took all of her willpower not to go running up and down the aisles just to see what was there.

Secondly, Sister Mwatieta wasn’t expecting any new medication so she hadn’t brought her wallet. The MTC pays for all medications no matter what the price, but missionaries have a $5 copay. The lady at the register informed us of this, and we stood there for a second, wondering what to do. Then the young man behind us in line spoke up and said, “That’s all right, Sisters. I’ll get it!”

It hit me right then: “Oh my goodness, I’m in a cheesy missionary story, right now!” I looked around and sure enough, everyone had cheesy smiles on their faces, there were cheesy Christmas decorations around the store, and there was a cheesy, warm, fuzzy feeling in my heart. The strangest part was looking down at my tag and realizing that I was the cheesy missionary in the cheesy missionary story. I have to make sure to appreciate these experiences while I’m still in Utah where most everyone knows who/what missionaries are. We’re not unknown in Mongolia. They’ve seen missionaries walking around and such, but they usually refer to them as “Ecyc xymyyc” (“Jesus people”). They probably won’t be offering to pay our bills, however.

Speaking of appreciating being where I am, Elder Richard G. Scott spoke last week. He talked about the difference between understanding and edification when teaching a lesson (D&C 50:22). When your investigators understand you, it means they got the message you were sharing. This is important when teaching doctrine, but the more important part is that you are both edified, or taught by the Spirit. Sharing doctrine does not convert people, the Holy Ghost converts people.

It was a great talk, but the best part was what happened afterwards. Elder Scott stayed for I don’t know how many hours and shook the hand of every single missionary in the MTC. Sister Balli and I were sitting near the front so we only had to wait about 20 minutes. The whole room was silent as missionaries went up row by row to shake his hand. He said ahead of time that he would not have enough time to talk with anyone, but he wanted to look every one of us in the eye and say thank you. It was a very powerful experience. He is incredibly short, but he has twinkly eyes, and when he said, “thank you” to me I knew he meant it as sincerely as if he had taken 20 minutes to talk just to me.

The sweetest part was not that the Spirit was even stronger in the presence of an apostle, but that I felt exactly the same as I do whenever I watch Conference. I didn’t notice it before, but hearing their voices at Conference time carries the same message of love and concern that they would give if they could talk to each of us in person.

Okay, two months down, two weeks to go. I…can’t….stand…the food…anymore. Sister Balli and I have vowed to go on an all-cereal diet. I know it’s probably really difficult to feed 2,300 missionaries cheaply while keeping them all satisfied, but honestly, enough with the fried chicken already! Last night they had “chicken parmesan”, which was fried chicken breasts on spaghetti, sprinkled with mozzarella. “Orange chicken” is little fried chicken nuggets in orange sauce. We have “chicken burgers” every other day (fried chicken patties). Whenever they run out of a particular dinner item, 5 minutes later they magically have plates and plates of greasy chicken tenders, ready to go. Is there some member of the Church that owns a fried chicken farm or something?

They had a lunch for the branch presidents and their wives the other day, and that night at dinner they had some leftover chicken salad sandwiches with BYU Catering mint brownies. We spotted some missionaries eating them as soon as we walked into the cafeteria and immediately the Mongolian horde pounced on them, asking where they got this strange new food. The sandwiches were dried out and the brownies were crusty, but we ate with gusto. Mongolia, bring on the sheep face. I’m ready for it, as long as you don’t fry it.

Actually, I really am not worried about the food in Mongolia. We always get Sister Marta to go off on tangents because she loves talking about her home. Our favorite is when she starts talking about food. She can get all our mouths watering with her descriptions of meat dishes and dumplings and all sorts of Mongolian food. She actually made sheep face sound appealing.

Speaking of teachers, Sister Balli and I always used to tease our elders for worshipping Brother Badamjav so much, but as we’ve learned more about him, we’re starting to think maybe the elders aren’t as crazy as we thought they were. First of all, Bro. Badamjav translates for Gordon B. Hinckley in all of his conference and devotional addresses. His voice is the voice of the prophet to the Mongolian people. We listen to conference in Mongolian as we study, and whenever President Hinckley talks we hear the voice of our teacher, Bro. Badamjav. Choka, the Mongolian woman whom we always teach in the training center, also does a lot of translating for conference, especially the women’s talks. If you want to hear the language that I’m trying to learn, go to www.lds.org and listen to general conference in Mongolian.

As with most things we learn about Bro. Badamjav, we learned through a rumor that he had his appendix taken out without any form of anesthesia. The elders were almost in too much awe to ask Bro. Badamjav himself, but then one day Elder Loveland says in the middle of class, “Hey, Brother Badamjav, we heard you got your appendix taken out without any anesthesia. Is that true?”
“Uh, yes. It’s true,” he said.
“Really? How did that go?”
Brother Badamjav thought for a second. The he said, “Pretty bad.”
I need to look up the Mongolian word for “understatement.”

Seriously though, all of my teachers are just amazing. I would spend another 11 ½ weeks in here if they asked me to. They love Mongolia and the gospel so much. It motivates me to do my best if for no other reason than to make sure I’ll be able to take care of the people that they love so much. It’s even more personal for Bro. Badamjav and Sister Marta. They’ve been away from home for years already, and they’re both about to start years of medical school. They push us so hard because they’re sending us to take care of not just their country but also their families. Every missionary going to Mongolia comes out of the MTC with the resolve to be the one to convert Marta’s last non-member brother or Badamjav’s dad.

Now, Christmas is coming, even though it is hard to tell here in the time warp that is the MTC. I’m going to be honest. I just don’t have the time nor the means to send Christmas presents to anyone. I do have one present to give, but if you don’t like opening presents early, I suggest you don’t read on. Sorry, I didn’t wrap it, but here it is:
I love you! I really do! If you’re reading this, then you can be sure that I love you!
Oh, okay. Here’s another little gift:
Thank you! Thank you for letters, for packages, for even just thinking about me! Thanks for your support. It keeps me going.

Now if any of you have gotten the idea in your pretty little heads to send me something for Christmas, … well, I guess by the time you read this you probably will have sent it already… If you haven’t, let me just say a few things: I’m leaving on the 19th, and I probably won’t be able to get mail past the 18th. I don’t have much room in my suitcases, and I’m a missionary so I have very little and need even less. However, one thing I didn’t know I wanted until a dear friend sent me some is PICTURES! Photos! Pictures of you. Pictures of me. Pictures of you and me. Pictures of you and me and that one guy. Pictures of what you’ve been up to since I’ve been gone… I want ‘em all. Just a thought, anyway.

Merry Christmas!