Monday, February 11, 2013

Emehjency, ehverybody to get from street!

I was ecstatic two weeks ago during transfer time when I learned that I would get to spend another transfer in Mussurunga with Sister V. Silva, and these past two weeks with her have been awesome! We really went to town, working hard and with new enthusiasm, finding really great people. Then, on Friday of this past week we were really on fire! I was talking to everyone without even thinking about how bad my Português is and we were committing everyone to baptism like crazy. And then came a phone call from the Zone Leaders, right as I was talking to someone on their doorstep. In the background I could hear Sister V. Silva's mournful cries of, "Não! Por que!!!"
    Long story short... I'm being emergency transferred. No, there's no scandalous story behind it. There are a lot of Brasilians who serve mini missions of a few weeks to a few months and one of them finished hers in Jequié, about 10 hours South of Salvador. Another mini-mission-er is beginning her mission and she's going to train with Sister V. Silva. And so... tomorrow night I'm taking a bus (all by myself) 10 hours to Vitoria da Conquista, where there will be a Zone Conference, and from there I'll take another bus (the next day, think) to Jequié. And who will be my new companion} (that's a question mark, because I can't figure out how to use it on this computer).... Sister Ellis. An American!!! Say what}} Just when it's so important for my Português to improve-- right before I start training new missionaries! I'm just trusting that the Lord is in charge and that somehow it will be a good thing for me to work with an American. Who'd have thought I'd ever be nervous to work with someone who speaks English}

    I almost didn't get to email today. It's Carnival time here in Brasil and Salvador is Brasil's party capitol, so Carnival is super strong here. People in the CTM were certain I would have to stay inside during the week of Carnlval, but no. It's so strong here that everyone goes to the beach to celebrate and here in Mussurunga NO ONE is left. It's a ghost town. The most exciting thing I've seen in two days is a cockroach chasing a lizard (yes you read that correctly. Weird). My legs were extremely sore yesterday from trying a new workout routine and I was walking like a cowboy. That, coupled with the empty streets and dead silence where normally there is booming music, made me feel like I was in an old western film and Sister V. Silva and I practiced our best cowboy hootin' and hollerin'. 
   Today everything is closed. Yesterday only a lot of things were closed. Today it's everything. That includes all the internet houses. So we got special permission to use computers in a member's home. We're lucky. If I ever don't email one week, it's not because I died. It's because there's a party going on and everything is closed. Just remember that.

    In other news, my fiance readjusted the wooden leg of his turtle, so now it's shorter and makes a loud thumping sound as the little guy hobbled around. We can hear it all the way up in our apartment. This thumping inspired my very own version of "The Highwayman", to be read Anne of Green Gables-style:

The moon was a ghostly lantern
   Hanging o'er the trees.
My hair was a sweaty rat's nest
   Tustled by the breeze.
And the turtle's leg was thumping,
   Thumping, thumping!
The turtle's leg was thumping
   As I fumbled for my keys.

"Hurry, Sister Whitaker,"
   My companion did implore.
"I'm tired and I'm hungry
   And my feet are oh, so sore."
Digging 'round the pamphlets,
   The books and hand-out-cards,
Had the depths of my black bulsa
   Turned from inches into yards}

"I'm hungry too," I said aloud,
   "And my feet are also sore.
"Don't fret, my dear companion,
   "The keys are here, I'm sure..."
Then we heard the old man hacking,
   Hacking, hacking!
We heard the old man hacking
   From the house next door.

"Good evening, my buneca,"
   We heard old Carlos say.
My key-hunt became more urgent
   As I waved and said, "Oh, hey!"
Sister Silva, too, began to search
   The pockets of her pouch
When she saw old Carlos rise
   From the comfort of his couch.

"A word, my bonny sweatheart}
   "I've waited here all day."
He'd looked for me by moonlight,
    He'd watched for me by moonlight
To come to him by moonlight.
    He knew we'd pass this way.

My companion jumped like a madman,
   Raising her voice to the sky:
"I have the keys, afterall!"
   And she raised the chaves high.

Snow white were the tiles of our apartment.
   Beet red was the face of old Carlos
As he stood on his porch in the moonlight,
   Stood like a dog in the moonlight,
And he spat at the ground in the moonlight
   With a bunch of white hairs at his throat.


I love you all!!!!

Sister Weezer

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