Anyone else going to post on their blogs? I'm hoping to inspire some communication here and people seem to have stopped blogging. Granted, I only have 3 other blogs to read... but I can't keep rereading them, or people comments (or even my own, as clever as they may be).
Chop chop people. Give me more of your thoughts and lives, mine are boring.
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Friday, May 30, 2008
Time to Step It Up
My stepdad, Elder Martell, was an eye opening, life changing companionship. He had completely submerged himself within the mission and culture. He had the hard to get items from all across the mission (items that required connections and favors from ZL's and what not). My dad and I bent some of the rules at times (looking back it seems trival at worst), my stepdad taught me how to enjoy the mission by bending a little more... at least while I was with him. We worked a lot less. We still taught, and contacted (which I didn't do much with my dad) some, but my amusement with the companionship allowed me to forgive and go along with the flow. This sometimes got us into slight trouble here and there. And trouble in the mission can be trival, or very serious depending on who found out. If something made it to the Prez... that missionary rarely "went up" (went DL or ZL) till later in his mission. It was just a matter of trust really. In the states, I've been told, ZL's and DL's rise above the challenges and are great examples to other missionaries... in the DR however, DL's and ZL's haven't completely screwed up and have been in the field X amount of months. There was a brief period in which younger missionaries became the leaders by a few months because there were some serious trust issues with the older ones. Prez can't trust you, he isn't letting you be ZL (DL's authority was really laughed at, they held no more sway with the ZL's or the Prez than anyone else). Most of the time ZL's didn't garner any respect either, there were very few that ever did. It was generally because they were 1. very likable 2. lenient, or 3. your friend (in which case both 1 & 2 apply). Hipocracy was rampant and my stepdad taught me all about this strange new system of authority and life... it was strange new game... the game we missionaries played.
Tigeraje (pronounced: Tee-ger-ah-hey) was a new and poinent term for me. For missionaries, it meant disobedience, rebelion, etc. This is how we discribed our "bending" of the rules, and it became much more negligable when you didn't attach the word "disobedience" to what you were doing.
So, you're asking yourself maybe, "How did you do Aaron? You just gave into disobedience so you could get along with your companion? You just set aside your principles?" And I'll respond, no, not completely. I never excused or made denials about what we did, I always declared them to be "wrong" (to my companions annoyance). But understanding the fine art of social interaction is key to teaching with the spirit, which is what it all comes down to. I could be who I was and still be an enjoyable companion. It was my best companionship of the mission really. We laughed a lot, had a lot of interesting experiences, and even found someone to baptize.
It was during this period that I realized the tone of the mission field. The work was painful (not physically) and disappointing. Lack of cultural understanding can kill many missionaries (and did). And when I say "kill", I mean to say kill their drive to teach, and once this is dead, it is very difficult to live again. There were too many distractions, too many easy way outs. I only know of a handful of missionaries (say 5, in the 250 that I knew over the 2 years) that never "died". The best and most obedient missionaries were tested to their limits in some areas of that country. It is for this situation that no experience outside of the mission can ever compare. The difficulty of maintaining faith, not deviating in those ways I've mentioned, and coming out "alive" is extraordinary. We all broke from time to time, whether we admitted it or not. Hopes and spirits are grinded up, crushed and recycled. At least, for those paying attention this is what happened, most people didn't pay attention and missed out on a lot of stuff. The tone of the field was, "Get me to a nice area, let me go ZL so I can get the truck and a phone, and let me leave this place with a family baptism as soon as possible". Most people just wanted to get home. I was one of the few who didn't want to go home, I didn't always want to be where I was, but I never wanted to go home. I really never got homesick, I got mission sick quite often.
However, my life in this area, and with my stepdad was soon at a close after 1 transfer. I was sad to leave, but excited for a new area and companion... And oh boy, did it go down hill from there. That transfer was really the highlight of my mission. I was happy and laughed more then than any other transfer after... it was now time for me to be tested. There would be no more late night Risk games, no more lack of responsibility, no more inside jokes, no more of a lot of things. But oh dear reader, how much more there is...
-A
ps. "Step It Up" is a phrase used and abused by my Stepdad Elder Martell. One of the more important lessons I learned from him: If you want/need something, step it up and get the nice one. You pay for what you get (especially in foreign countries). Don't be a wuss and get the knockoff, step it up and get the nice one with the features. I don't think I ever paid for anything that was "nice" and been disappointed or wished I had "stepped it down". The advise has served me well since.
Tigeraje (pronounced: Tee-ger-ah-hey) was a new and poinent term for me. For missionaries, it meant disobedience, rebelion, etc. This is how we discribed our "bending" of the rules, and it became much more negligable when you didn't attach the word "disobedience" to what you were doing.
So, you're asking yourself maybe, "How did you do Aaron? You just gave into disobedience so you could get along with your companion? You just set aside your principles?" And I'll respond, no, not completely. I never excused or made denials about what we did, I always declared them to be "wrong" (to my companions annoyance). But understanding the fine art of social interaction is key to teaching with the spirit, which is what it all comes down to. I could be who I was and still be an enjoyable companion. It was my best companionship of the mission really. We laughed a lot, had a lot of interesting experiences, and even found someone to baptize.
It was during this period that I realized the tone of the mission field. The work was painful (not physically) and disappointing. Lack of cultural understanding can kill many missionaries (and did). And when I say "kill", I mean to say kill their drive to teach, and once this is dead, it is very difficult to live again. There were too many distractions, too many easy way outs. I only know of a handful of missionaries (say 5, in the 250 that I knew over the 2 years) that never "died". The best and most obedient missionaries were tested to their limits in some areas of that country. It is for this situation that no experience outside of the mission can ever compare. The difficulty of maintaining faith, not deviating in those ways I've mentioned, and coming out "alive" is extraordinary. We all broke from time to time, whether we admitted it or not. Hopes and spirits are grinded up, crushed and recycled. At least, for those paying attention this is what happened, most people didn't pay attention and missed out on a lot of stuff. The tone of the field was, "Get me to a nice area, let me go ZL so I can get the truck and a phone, and let me leave this place with a family baptism as soon as possible". Most people just wanted to get home. I was one of the few who didn't want to go home, I didn't always want to be where I was, but I never wanted to go home. I really never got homesick, I got mission sick quite often.
However, my life in this area, and with my stepdad was soon at a close after 1 transfer. I was sad to leave, but excited for a new area and companion... And oh boy, did it go down hill from there. That transfer was really the highlight of my mission. I was happy and laughed more then than any other transfer after... it was now time for me to be tested. There would be no more late night Risk games, no more lack of responsibility, no more inside jokes, no more of a lot of things. But oh dear reader, how much more there is...
-A
ps. "Step It Up" is a phrase used and abused by my Stepdad Elder Martell. One of the more important lessons I learned from him: If you want/need something, step it up and get the nice one. You pay for what you get (especially in foreign countries). Don't be a wuss and get the knockoff, step it up and get the nice one with the features. I don't think I ever paid for anything that was "nice" and been disappointed or wished I had "stepped it down". The advise has served me well since.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Dreams of Romance
I ended up hanging out with these 4 brothers on some estate overlooking what might have been Venice. They were all pretty cool and we had fun swimming and talking. Then I met their sisters, who were all as familiar and fun as their brothers... but there was one special, and I was drawn to her and she to me. We spent some time together running around and what not, but she stayed at a distance it seemed. She ran off crying and I was confused, then a sister I had never met showed up and tried to explain to me. This new sister, she was delicate and very white, told me she was dying and had made a pact with the sister I loved. When it was to be her time to die (cancer or some other illness it seemed) it was going to be the one I loved who said goodbye and ended the life support. They might have been twins because I caught a flash back of when they were little girls making this pact and they looked very much a like in age. Once I returned off the flashback I understood that I couldn't take her away and be with her, not until her sister died. I'm sure she knew this and was torn by guilt over waiting for her to die so she could be happy with me. I sat down and thought about everything I had learned and what I was going to do about it. Then I woke up.
Very strange dream, but very vivid. Thought I'd write it down.
Very strange dream, but very vivid. Thought I'd write it down.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
It's not easy being green
My first real day on the mission was pretty painful. My crotch was burning within the first twenty minutes of walking. I learned very quickly the hazards of wearing missionary clothes and the heat of the DR. Good pants also made a big difference, which I soon learned was a favorite past time of DR missionaries (getting pants made by Dominicans).
As I soaked up the mornings heat, I followed my dad up and out to our area. We lived one of the most dangerous streets around. My dad got a tostada (fried piece of very thin badder, with ketchup) right below our house, I did not, I didn't want to get sick... this attitude only lasted a few weeks. You'd think they poisoned their food or something the way the MTC people talked about local food. Ridiculous. Anyway, we went around and met some of the members around our area. What suprised me the most was how similar the memebers were to American members. Not in believes, but in culture. They behaved like mormon folk, they talked (although I couldn't quite understand it) like mormon folk... it seemed very strange. I don't know what I was expecting, but to see such a contrast between regular Dominicans and the members was almost startling. Not every member was this way, but a lot of them.
We walked, we sweated, we rested. Our area was very quiet and very rich (comparatively). Garbage was everywhere (or so I thought, it was actually pretty clean compared to everywhere else), there were random piles of it every so often, just on the street, or in the gutter, where ever. We walked, and walked and walked. My ass burned and I couldn't wait for the day to be over, or a break in which I could sit. I felt like I couldn't really experience anything, being in pain, not understanding what was being said and really not having anything of substance to contribute. Deadweight is a good descriptor.
I thought I had never been as tired as I had as the MTC, but I grew to know a new level of exhaustion. We woke every morning at 6:30 to read from the Book of Mormon in Spanish. My dad had a great accent and pretty good Spanish. Something that no one tells you: Just because you live in a Spanish speaking country, speak Spanish every day, does not mean you will magically get good spanish or a good accent. There are no skipping steps, or "it will come"'s, "it will come" when you push yourself to learn it. Forcing yourself to learn something that's difficult is very hard to do (obviously), but the fear of being that missionary that can't speak Spanish when he goes home is enough to motivate most of us... that, and the humiliation Dominicans effortlessly provide. It was very hard to do what my dad did for me, and I was very thankful he did. He really was a really great missionary and person. It was tough to be both in my mission.
We worked really hard. We walked to new areas of our area, contacted a ton of people and made little progress in ways that are tracked on charts. My dad forced me into some extremely difficult situations of teaching, praying and blessings. Two weeks out I give my first priesthood blessing in Spanish. I had never really done it in English. It might have been alright if my dad had been there... but I was on splits with a member. Terrified is putting it lightly. I couldn't understand the words I needed to say, I have no idea how I made it through honestly. I did somehow, sweating, ready to just run out of there, finish the anointing. Thankfully I didn't have to give the blessing or it would have consisted of me rambling words, not making sentences, and just spouting the few religious verbs I have memorized... well, technically I did do that in my next area (but wait oh dear reader, that's for another chapter!).
Fuji became my name. They could pronounce Foushee like "Fouchee" however it sounded extremely close to the phrase "Fuche" which is the noise you make when something stinks. "Like Fuji film" became my catch phrase. I hated it to begin with. If they could say my name, why couldn't they just say it? Everyone looked confused and laughed when they heard me say my name... I realized it would be like everywhere for the rest of my mission and detested it. It did not put me in a good mood to have them laughing at me when I was trying to teach them. Oddly enough, when I told people my name was Fuji like Fuji film they didn't want to call me Fuji, they wanted to know my real name, and said it right. My dad tried to tell me that, but at the time I was still daunted with everyone laughing at my name for 2 years.
MST (Mormon Standard Time) is generally what? 30 minutes to an hour later? DMST (Dominican Mormon Standard Time) is 2 to "maybe he meant next Thursday" hours later. It is very difficult to plan meetings or get anything done with the members. Incompetence is not a common trait you want in members of the Church, however, it does appear to be common among Dominicans. Or so I thought, really it's just that those meetings or whatever, just aren't as important to them as they are to us. Being late, or missing an appointment is something that is not done by missionaries in my mission. Because it is SO prevelant among the people of the country, and the church, missionaries make it top priority to be on time, every time. We are the leaders, we are the spiritual guides, and if we want people to be better, we have to be the example. Even the bad missionaries in my mission followed this rule, it is hardcoded. Nothing is worse than hearing an investigator relate how they waited and waited and we never showed (though, by the end of the mission I realized 90% of them were lying, considering the fact that 80% of them don't show up when you do show up, the chances of that one person being in that small percent that was there is ridiculous. Also, I learned later if they really want to know more about the church they'll show the next time, but that's a principle for another chapter).
So, we setup 5, 10, 20 appointments for the week (20 is a lot of discussions for my area, we maybe maxed out at 14 or 15) and we'd get stood up for almost all of them (and frequently all of them). Week after week it would happen like this. At first you believe their excuses or whatever, then you think it's something you said, and your mind starts racing through your MTC training in what to do! But no one every really talked about this. You're now walking away, confused, frustrated and with 3 more hours to work before you can go home. This is what the mission is. It's not the people shutting the door in your face that's difficult, it's holding onto the hope that maybe this next investigator won't lock the door and pretend your not there after his/her two or three discussions. And then when that happens, knowing what to do about it (persist in visiting, or letting them go). Most missionaries learn to "let go" the wrong way, when it is generally the best option (in my opinion, for my mission). They let the investigator go out of frustration, having built up a negative attitude towards them after being stood up five or six times in a row. It just takes experience to know when to let go, and when to hold on. No one goes into the mission with this, it is not taught by a teacher, and it can only be learned by remember the commonly quoted (often misunderstood) "Love the people". If you don't believe that, or remember it when you need to, the mission can be a very difficult time.
I did not learn that principle for a very long time. For about 10 months I was frustrated finding myself hating the peoples culture and the way they were.
2 months down, time for a companion change... and what a change it is. Up Next: Elder Martell, my stepdad.
-A
As I soaked up the mornings heat, I followed my dad up and out to our area. We lived one of the most dangerous streets around. My dad got a tostada (fried piece of very thin badder, with ketchup) right below our house, I did not, I didn't want to get sick... this attitude only lasted a few weeks. You'd think they poisoned their food or something the way the MTC people talked about local food. Ridiculous. Anyway, we went around and met some of the members around our area. What suprised me the most was how similar the memebers were to American members. Not in believes, but in culture. They behaved like mormon folk, they talked (although I couldn't quite understand it) like mormon folk... it seemed very strange. I don't know what I was expecting, but to see such a contrast between regular Dominicans and the members was almost startling. Not every member was this way, but a lot of them.
We walked, we sweated, we rested. Our area was very quiet and very rich (comparatively). Garbage was everywhere (or so I thought, it was actually pretty clean compared to everywhere else), there were random piles of it every so often, just on the street, or in the gutter, where ever. We walked, and walked and walked. My ass burned and I couldn't wait for the day to be over, or a break in which I could sit. I felt like I couldn't really experience anything, being in pain, not understanding what was being said and really not having anything of substance to contribute. Deadweight is a good descriptor.
I thought I had never been as tired as I had as the MTC, but I grew to know a new level of exhaustion. We woke every morning at 6:30 to read from the Book of Mormon in Spanish. My dad had a great accent and pretty good Spanish. Something that no one tells you: Just because you live in a Spanish speaking country, speak Spanish every day, does not mean you will magically get good spanish or a good accent. There are no skipping steps, or "it will come"'s, "it will come" when you push yourself to learn it. Forcing yourself to learn something that's difficult is very hard to do (obviously), but the fear of being that missionary that can't speak Spanish when he goes home is enough to motivate most of us... that, and the humiliation Dominicans effortlessly provide. It was very hard to do what my dad did for me, and I was very thankful he did. He really was a really great missionary and person. It was tough to be both in my mission.
We worked really hard. We walked to new areas of our area, contacted a ton of people and made little progress in ways that are tracked on charts. My dad forced me into some extremely difficult situations of teaching, praying and blessings. Two weeks out I give my first priesthood blessing in Spanish. I had never really done it in English. It might have been alright if my dad had been there... but I was on splits with a member. Terrified is putting it lightly. I couldn't understand the words I needed to say, I have no idea how I made it through honestly. I did somehow, sweating, ready to just run out of there, finish the anointing. Thankfully I didn't have to give the blessing or it would have consisted of me rambling words, not making sentences, and just spouting the few religious verbs I have memorized... well, technically I did do that in my next area (but wait oh dear reader, that's for another chapter!).
Fuji became my name. They could pronounce Foushee like "Fouchee" however it sounded extremely close to the phrase "Fuche" which is the noise you make when something stinks. "Like Fuji film" became my catch phrase. I hated it to begin with. If they could say my name, why couldn't they just say it? Everyone looked confused and laughed when they heard me say my name... I realized it would be like everywhere for the rest of my mission and detested it. It did not put me in a good mood to have them laughing at me when I was trying to teach them. Oddly enough, when I told people my name was Fuji like Fuji film they didn't want to call me Fuji, they wanted to know my real name, and said it right. My dad tried to tell me that, but at the time I was still daunted with everyone laughing at my name for 2 years.
MST (Mormon Standard Time) is generally what? 30 minutes to an hour later? DMST (Dominican Mormon Standard Time) is 2 to "maybe he meant next Thursday" hours later. It is very difficult to plan meetings or get anything done with the members. Incompetence is not a common trait you want in members of the Church, however, it does appear to be common among Dominicans. Or so I thought, really it's just that those meetings or whatever, just aren't as important to them as they are to us. Being late, or missing an appointment is something that is not done by missionaries in my mission. Because it is SO prevelant among the people of the country, and the church, missionaries make it top priority to be on time, every time. We are the leaders, we are the spiritual guides, and if we want people to be better, we have to be the example. Even the bad missionaries in my mission followed this rule, it is hardcoded. Nothing is worse than hearing an investigator relate how they waited and waited and we never showed (though, by the end of the mission I realized 90% of them were lying, considering the fact that 80% of them don't show up when you do show up, the chances of that one person being in that small percent that was there is ridiculous. Also, I learned later if they really want to know more about the church they'll show the next time, but that's a principle for another chapter).
So, we setup 5, 10, 20 appointments for the week (20 is a lot of discussions for my area, we maybe maxed out at 14 or 15) and we'd get stood up for almost all of them (and frequently all of them). Week after week it would happen like this. At first you believe their excuses or whatever, then you think it's something you said, and your mind starts racing through your MTC training in what to do! But no one every really talked about this. You're now walking away, confused, frustrated and with 3 more hours to work before you can go home. This is what the mission is. It's not the people shutting the door in your face that's difficult, it's holding onto the hope that maybe this next investigator won't lock the door and pretend your not there after his/her two or three discussions. And then when that happens, knowing what to do about it (persist in visiting, or letting them go). Most missionaries learn to "let go" the wrong way, when it is generally the best option (in my opinion, for my mission). They let the investigator go out of frustration, having built up a negative attitude towards them after being stood up five or six times in a row. It just takes experience to know when to let go, and when to hold on. No one goes into the mission with this, it is not taught by a teacher, and it can only be learned by remember the commonly quoted (often misunderstood) "Love the people". If you don't believe that, or remember it when you need to, the mission can be a very difficult time.
I did not learn that principle for a very long time. For about 10 months I was frustrated finding myself hating the peoples culture and the way they were.
2 months down, time for a companion change... and what a change it is. Up Next: Elder Martell, my stepdad.
-A
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Welcome to the jungle
Ya, I'm bored of all that MTC crap too.
My dad is Elder Sigmund and he's a pretty cool dude. I think we're going to get alone and we do for the most part (remember, I'm still kinda prickly). "T-day", or transfers, is a lot like a P-day with much more work. Lots of packing of bikes, luggage and even more mission gossip. Missionaries from all around gather and chit-chat like there's no tomorrow. I try to play it cool like I know what's going on and do a pretty good job (lots of practice). I win 2 games of dominoes (pure blind luck, I didn't even understand the rules) and I'm a "good kid". You see, there are "good kids" and there are "bad kids". Bad kids make the parents life hell. I turned out to be a "so-so-kid" I think for my dad. I had a lot of inner conflict with breaking ANY of the mission rules, albeit I was lienent on some of them, such as the number of hours of study in spanish, memorization, etc. I had to ask a few missionaries if it was okay that we played dominoes... we WERE in the Stake Center and it wasn't P-Day... Those missionaries not just hanging out were memorizing still. Needless to say I was burnt out from memorizing. If I could describe a room full of missionaries rocking back and forth, some in corners, some with certain "lucky" books, some with specific poses, this room is full of misisonaries memorizing in the MTC. It looked like an insane assylum (literally), and I no longer wanted to wear my straight-jacket. However, I was still very enthused about teaching and doing, which quickly turned into my dad doing, because my spanish sucked and I was embaressed to even try.
Let's get down to what I'm really supposed to be writing about: girls. As I look around me from side to side I see a lot of girls. And they are all staring at me. Obviously I am very white, very American, and quite possibly a member of the CIA (I'll get to that later haha). The girls I'm looking at turn out to be around fifteen and sixteen. Nothing like a fear of pedefilia to keep a missionary on track I'll tell you what. Naturally I do not "look", as in checking them out as they pass by or watching from our second story open balcony (which extends around the street corner connecting 3 streets). I am thankful I only had to live in that house once, and I am more thankful that it was at the start of my mission and not the last part... you see, every missionary starts to look eventually, and it just gets worse as time goes on. I made it almost 2 months, pretty good (so I am told).
The clash between the MTC behavior and the mission field is more than staggering. I am very happy to see some of it, as it brings relief to my troubled mind. I am also very concerned because I truly believe that perfect obedience is possible and no Elder believes that here. A great worry consumes me about the success of my mission. Essentially every missionary's dream is to be Ammon, or Alma the Younger, or any of the brothers really (I'm already Aaron, so I choose Ammon). I want to discover a new way to teach, a new way to share it to open minds and convert hearts. I want to be the conduit of the Word of God here on the island. These are my desires, holy desires I would say, and not projected with guile or prideful ambitions...right?
"Many are called, few are chosen" Chosen for what specifically, I sometimes wonder. We seem to use that scripture in whichever situation we want to separate two types of people who do the same things. Maybe that's fine, but I often wonder if the "few" are really the few we read about. It doesn't mean God doesn't love us, or whatever those not "chosen" implies. Could it also apply to the prophets and us as members? Could it apply to missionaries of old and missionaries today? Are there chosen missionaries today (Ammon/Alma calibur)? Well, whatever it may be, I wanted to be chosen as I saw "chosen" to mean. I was taught that whatever I wanted I could have if I was obedient enough, that was God's promise. And I still think that, but I have a much more realistic of my standing before God now I believe. I don't know if a missionary can exist in the DR with the required obedience to recieve everything he wants. That all sounds pretty silly and idealistic, but when you're called to serve, you have to believe it ALL right? Well, I believed whole-heartily. I believed everything in the MTC I was taught was true. I was now walking towards the precipice of God's Law and Mission Law. Are they the same thing? Oh dear reader, stay tuned! for the jungle just got a lot thicker.
-A
My dad is Elder Sigmund and he's a pretty cool dude. I think we're going to get alone and we do for the most part (remember, I'm still kinda prickly). "T-day", or transfers, is a lot like a P-day with much more work. Lots of packing of bikes, luggage and even more mission gossip. Missionaries from all around gather and chit-chat like there's no tomorrow. I try to play it cool like I know what's going on and do a pretty good job (lots of practice). I win 2 games of dominoes (pure blind luck, I didn't even understand the rules) and I'm a "good kid". You see, there are "good kids" and there are "bad kids". Bad kids make the parents life hell. I turned out to be a "so-so-kid" I think for my dad. I had a lot of inner conflict with breaking ANY of the mission rules, albeit I was lienent on some of them, such as the number of hours of study in spanish, memorization, etc. I had to ask a few missionaries if it was okay that we played dominoes... we WERE in the Stake Center and it wasn't P-Day... Those missionaries not just hanging out were memorizing still. Needless to say I was burnt out from memorizing. If I could describe a room full of missionaries rocking back and forth, some in corners, some with certain "lucky" books, some with specific poses, this room is full of misisonaries memorizing in the MTC. It looked like an insane assylum (literally), and I no longer wanted to wear my straight-jacket. However, I was still very enthused about teaching and doing, which quickly turned into my dad doing, because my spanish sucked and I was embaressed to even try.
Let's get down to what I'm really supposed to be writing about: girls. As I look around me from side to side I see a lot of girls. And they are all staring at me. Obviously I am very white, very American, and quite possibly a member of the CIA (I'll get to that later haha). The girls I'm looking at turn out to be around fifteen and sixteen. Nothing like a fear of pedefilia to keep a missionary on track I'll tell you what. Naturally I do not "look", as in checking them out as they pass by or watching from our second story open balcony (which extends around the street corner connecting 3 streets). I am thankful I only had to live in that house once, and I am more thankful that it was at the start of my mission and not the last part... you see, every missionary starts to look eventually, and it just gets worse as time goes on. I made it almost 2 months, pretty good (so I am told).
The clash between the MTC behavior and the mission field is more than staggering. I am very happy to see some of it, as it brings relief to my troubled mind. I am also very concerned because I truly believe that perfect obedience is possible and no Elder believes that here. A great worry consumes me about the success of my mission. Essentially every missionary's dream is to be Ammon, or Alma the Younger, or any of the brothers really (I'm already Aaron, so I choose Ammon). I want to discover a new way to teach, a new way to share it to open minds and convert hearts. I want to be the conduit of the Word of God here on the island. These are my desires, holy desires I would say, and not projected with guile or prideful ambitions...right?
"Many are called, few are chosen" Chosen for what specifically, I sometimes wonder. We seem to use that scripture in whichever situation we want to separate two types of people who do the same things. Maybe that's fine, but I often wonder if the "few" are really the few we read about. It doesn't mean God doesn't love us, or whatever those not "chosen" implies. Could it also apply to the prophets and us as members? Could it apply to missionaries of old and missionaries today? Are there chosen missionaries today (Ammon/Alma calibur)? Well, whatever it may be, I wanted to be chosen as I saw "chosen" to mean. I was taught that whatever I wanted I could have if I was obedient enough, that was God's promise. And I still think that, but I have a much more realistic of my standing before God now I believe. I don't know if a missionary can exist in the DR with the required obedience to recieve everything he wants. That all sounds pretty silly and idealistic, but when you're called to serve, you have to believe it ALL right? Well, I believed whole-heartily. I believed everything in the MTC I was taught was true. I was now walking towards the precipice of God's Law and Mission Law. Are they the same thing? Oh dear reader, stay tuned! for the jungle just got a lot thicker.
-A
Friday, May 23, 2008
Say Say Emmay
I had learned a few key things in the Provo MTC to aid my for what was to come next in the DR's MTC. I had been reconverted to the gospel (possibly for the first time in all reality). I didn't mention this struggle in the last post because it's resolution didn't take place until I was down in the DR learning from my new Mission President, President Barret.
President Barret was a multimillionaire if I remember correctly. His profession was buying companies, improving their production, and then selling them for even more money. He was since retired and gave inspirational business speeches now. He taught us some really amazing principles and guided us into a new realm of focus I had never encountered. At this time we were still focusing heavily on memorization. There was a giant chart on the wall with every missionary on it and their progress on passing off the discussions memorized. My new companion and I decided we wanted to be first on that list and worked extremely hard to do so. We ran back from every P-Day, we took shorter breaks, we memorized while we ate, we memorized while we did EVERYTHING. I have never been so dedicated to something in a singular moment than then. And almost everyone was. People arrived to the new MTC as they could with visas being the deciding factor. These new people didn't get all of Barrets speeches, or his addicting personality of focus. My skills with computers came into play and I was very thankful I had something of use, thus far all my skills were rendered useless.
All of our teachers were Dominicans. There would be no breaking of "character" and speaking english to us (as rarely as it happened in the MTC, it did happen). I was really scared. I also felt terrible because my spanish was terrible and I wasn't getting any better. Sure I was passing off discussions on the charts... but I couldn't repeat them after I had said them (90% of the time I didn't even know what I was saying, you can't just memorize sounds). This realization made me feel awful, so awful I didn't know if I was going to make it. There were some times I thought I was just going to go home, it was extremely difficult to endure. In the bottom of my despair I found the hymn Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing. I had never heard it before in my life. To say that I felt the spirit or I felt peace would be a great understatement. Moments such as those do not come around often I know. That song saved my mission.
I was still a prickly douche in this MTC like I was in the last one I think. But I wasn't as bad and I had more fun with the other Elders. We also had Jamacan missionaries with us for a few weeks and that was fun, even though I couldn't understand them. Then the native DR missionaries came. Some seemed cool (one came really early and became my second companion for a few days) some didn't. It was difficult because no one could really communicate and that caused problems heh. Here is where the first of the cultures clashed. The lighthearted, fun-seeking Dominicans were taken as disobedient and rule breaking missionaries by the Americans. The DR's MTC was much more laxed in a lot of the area's the Provo one wasn't. The only real stress was the memorization, which was a personal decision. The Dominican missionaries were just a taste of things to come.
My weeks in the DR's MTC went as quickly as my 2 weeks in the Provo MTC. But it was soon over. It was time to leave the cocoon. We had gone outside and seen some of the city we were in, but no one understood what we were seeing. It was time to go...
And by the way, CCM is the acronym in Spanish for the MTC, pronounced "Say Say Emmay".
President Barret was a multimillionaire if I remember correctly. His profession was buying companies, improving their production, and then selling them for even more money. He was since retired and gave inspirational business speeches now. He taught us some really amazing principles and guided us into a new realm of focus I had never encountered. At this time we were still focusing heavily on memorization. There was a giant chart on the wall with every missionary on it and their progress on passing off the discussions memorized. My new companion and I decided we wanted to be first on that list and worked extremely hard to do so. We ran back from every P-Day, we took shorter breaks, we memorized while we ate, we memorized while we did EVERYTHING. I have never been so dedicated to something in a singular moment than then. And almost everyone was. People arrived to the new MTC as they could with visas being the deciding factor. These new people didn't get all of Barrets speeches, or his addicting personality of focus. My skills with computers came into play and I was very thankful I had something of use, thus far all my skills were rendered useless.
All of our teachers were Dominicans. There would be no breaking of "character" and speaking english to us (as rarely as it happened in the MTC, it did happen). I was really scared. I also felt terrible because my spanish was terrible and I wasn't getting any better. Sure I was passing off discussions on the charts... but I couldn't repeat them after I had said them (90% of the time I didn't even know what I was saying, you can't just memorize sounds). This realization made me feel awful, so awful I didn't know if I was going to make it. There were some times I thought I was just going to go home, it was extremely difficult to endure. In the bottom of my despair I found the hymn Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing. I had never heard it before in my life. To say that I felt the spirit or I felt peace would be a great understatement. Moments such as those do not come around often I know. That song saved my mission.
I was still a prickly douche in this MTC like I was in the last one I think. But I wasn't as bad and I had more fun with the other Elders. We also had Jamacan missionaries with us for a few weeks and that was fun, even though I couldn't understand them. Then the native DR missionaries came. Some seemed cool (one came really early and became my second companion for a few days) some didn't. It was difficult because no one could really communicate and that caused problems heh. Here is where the first of the cultures clashed. The lighthearted, fun-seeking Dominicans were taken as disobedient and rule breaking missionaries by the Americans. The DR's MTC was much more laxed in a lot of the area's the Provo one wasn't. The only real stress was the memorization, which was a personal decision. The Dominican missionaries were just a taste of things to come.
My weeks in the DR's MTC went as quickly as my 2 weeks in the Provo MTC. But it was soon over. It was time to leave the cocoon. We had gone outside and seen some of the city we were in, but no one understood what we were seeing. It was time to go...
And by the way, CCM is the acronym in Spanish for the MTC, pronounced "Say Say Emmay".
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
The Utah MTC
I think all I heard or really knew about the MTC was those videos they show with all the missionaries singing "Called To Serve" in different languages and what not. My parents dropped me off and I was excited to get this thing going! First thing you see are lines. Lines and lines of missionaries. A few administrators comb over the crowd looking for long hair or unkempt shirts and ties. Lots of guys are crying, some are laughing, and a ton seem to know each other, which seemed crazy to me at the time.
I meet my companion Elder Larson. He once was a body builder, he's from Layton Utah, and he's with me every second of every day. We get settled in, get lunch and go to class. The schedules are insane, there is no room to stop and think, no time to relax and enjoy the weather, no time, no time, no time. Stress is the key here, there is so much possible stress to be had in the MTC if you are not ready to be bended, molded, and plied into whatever shape you are not, you are for sure not going to make it. Getting out of the MTC is some missionaries only goal. There are some people who loved it and just breezed through without a care in the world. If you are not able to willingly, nay happily, sacrifice your sleep, hunger, mood, and or personal feelings about whatever situation may arise, you are not "prepared". And this is what bugs me most about it all, everyone says "You need to prepare, blah, blah, blah" but they never tell you WHAT to prepare besides essencially being more active in the church. No one tells the missionaries scenerios of real encounters of the life on the inside. So, here's just one example.
Example 1: You must enter a room with your companion, whom you don't necessarily like very much, and teach two to five strangers in Spanish. There are camera's recording your sessions in which your teachers, companions, and yourself have to criticize after your sessions. You have had a total of 5 lessons in Spanish and can only remember a total of 5 words, maybe. As you are sitting there, trying to remember the word for prayer to start or end the lesson, being completely humiliated and humbled at the same time in front of strangers and your companion, a dawning realization comes to mind that you don't want to do this. Minutes pass as everyone waits on you to say your part, only you can't remember and don't know how to say or explain your predicament. No English is allowed (can't stress this enough). You want to do this when you're ready and feel comfortable, but you must do it now, scared crapless. I'll liken the awkwardness to you walking over to some neighbor you don't know, and asking for two hundred dollars, only you have to ask in a British accent and be serious about it. As the conversation progresses it gets more awkward and harder to remember why you're there. It feels terrible, it feels fake , it feels like you're an actor and what you're doing is not helping anyone. Every instinct you have cries out to just let you leave and forget it all. Try to imagine that, then doing it 5 times in a row to different people. You'll be back in a week to do it again. Once I explained to a teacher who was waiting in the hallway how pointless it was for me and how I just wasn't going to do it today. I was supremely frustrated, I had not learned any Spanish since the last time I went through the door (5 minutes previous) and how going back in and trying again was pointless. I stated my arguments clearly and without shame and shrugged as to what else he could say to make me want to do it. He had no real response, and walked away. I'm sure he was dissapointed, guilt is a great motivator for a lot of teachers (and a lot of missionaries, myself included at the top of the list).
I'm not completely glad I did it at all, it didn't break my fears, improve my Spanish or help me in anything but accepting I was stuck there and had to do it. Stress, like I said, is a key factor in the MTC. It was here, by one of my better teachers I thought, where I learned possibly the most life-changing lesson anyone could have given me: "fake it 'till you make it". Understand that when I heard this, and was convinced it was True, gave myself fully to it. Like any principle it is simple, but always follows the rules of relativity. There is a time and place for each principle and deciphering these two key elements is of the utmost importance. Failure to do so can lead to heartache, disillusionment, pain, feeling cheated, and numerous other problems.
I am terrible at basketball, through and through. However it wasn't until I played with my district that they started to like me and accept me into the district clique. Our days were extremely long (they felt like 20 hour days) and being around the same ten guys for even a few days and not feeling welcome was hard. Everything is magnified in the MTC, every look, every comment, every moment of exhaustion. Interviews every other day: teachers would give performance reviews and let you know whether they thought you were trying, progressing, and asked what changes you could make to better enable your performance. Oh, and to repent. Don't forget to repent. It seems insane to think about now, but that's the way the MTC is. People will straight up ask you if you've been repenting during a hard time. Sometimes it comes across the right way, sometimes it doesn't. Righteous zeal is abundant and rampant in the MTC. I was a victim of it's lures immediately, having a predisposition to thinking myself smarter than everyone else. And I didn't lay it down for a while. It made me prickly and pompous, and not well liked. I lived under this ideology: If it is wrong, say it's wrong, you cannot claim something is right when you know it is wrong. It was more important to me to point out the error first (in myself or for others) and then attempt to remedy it. It was a hard line to walk, and it is hard to be around someone who is brutal honest. But that's how I was.
Those who had spanish were resented by those who hadn't "cheated" like the others. It seemed an unfair advantage. Having a companion to answer questions changed life completely. This feeling was always present. When anyone made progress you felt like you were sliding backwards. It was only when the worst of everyone made progress, or the best of us struggled that there was unity.
Every class is in the language you are learning. There aren't breaks, it is pounded in every hour of every day for almost two months of 18 hour days. It isn't pleasant, it's necessary, but it isn't pleasant. I was the only one in my district to get the Visa cleared to go to the MTC down in the DR (from here on Dominican Rep. will be referenced as the DR). I was happy to go, a new companion (two actually, we were a threesome for a week) and a new MTC. It was freezing in Provo and I wanted the tropics of the DR.
I'd like to talk about the Spirit somewhat. There were moments in the MTC, besides all the hustle and bustle to feel the spirit. Real conversations about life and love happened, and it was wonderful. The devotionals were spectacular and everyone felt elevated and elated afterwords. We were constantly reminded how great of a task that was laid before us, and it was ours to take and make our stand in the world for Truth. It was a stark contrast of feeling that could bring anyone to tears. The inner struggles every single person had mixed with the love we felt from our Heavenly Father. Simply put the MTC is a crucible.
I suppose I also must interject something I believe here, or at least am dealing with. And that is the principle of being reconverted based on past experiences. I don't know if I can be at this time. I encounter this principle often enough in the scriptures to understand that it exists and is true, but like I said before with principles: time and place. At this time in my life I don't believe it aplies to myself. Having redefined who I am, and tried to discover who I am, I can't rely on experiences of who I was. I'm not the same person therefore how can I rely on my flawed memory and possibly skewed mind? Maybe this makes no sense, but what matters is that I understand it. It matters a lot to me to understand these things about myself. This is not to say I don't believe in the Spirit or the Spirit of conversion, don't misinterpret me. I believe it is the only thing that can convert or communicate our Fathers love for us, but at this time in my life I need constant updates, that is all.
Some missionaries had great companions (just that they got along and had similar habits, humor, etc.) to make their MTC experience go smooth. And just gloss over most things I talked about here, but the fact is I had a fairly easy time comparatively. I was jealous of some, pitied others. It's impossible to sum up, but like anything difficult, once it has been a few years you're always greatful for the experience.
Well, that was a lot of stuff. And that was just my first two weeks in the MTC, hah. I realized while I was writing this that I couldn't possibly cover it all, but I could highlight on the key points, and I think I did a good job from my perspective anyway. I am always reluctant to discuss a lot of happenings in my experiences for fear of coming off as prideful, sinful and a lot of other "ful's" in conversations with people. I don't necessarily need advise on what I could have done better on my mission. I hate to resort to the "You weren't there" argument when discussing a difficult situtaion. Hopefully I won't have to, hopefully I can take you there. That's the goal anyway.
-A
I meet my companion Elder Larson. He once was a body builder, he's from Layton Utah, and he's with me every second of every day. We get settled in, get lunch and go to class. The schedules are insane, there is no room to stop and think, no time to relax and enjoy the weather, no time, no time, no time. Stress is the key here, there is so much possible stress to be had in the MTC if you are not ready to be bended, molded, and plied into whatever shape you are not, you are for sure not going to make it. Getting out of the MTC is some missionaries only goal. There are some people who loved it and just breezed through without a care in the world. If you are not able to willingly, nay happily, sacrifice your sleep, hunger, mood, and or personal feelings about whatever situation may arise, you are not "prepared". And this is what bugs me most about it all, everyone says "You need to prepare, blah, blah, blah" but they never tell you WHAT to prepare besides essencially being more active in the church. No one tells the missionaries scenerios of real encounters of the life on the inside. So, here's just one example.
Example 1: You must enter a room with your companion, whom you don't necessarily like very much, and teach two to five strangers in Spanish. There are camera's recording your sessions in which your teachers, companions, and yourself have to criticize after your sessions. You have had a total of 5 lessons in Spanish and can only remember a total of 5 words, maybe. As you are sitting there, trying to remember the word for prayer to start or end the lesson, being completely humiliated and humbled at the same time in front of strangers and your companion, a dawning realization comes to mind that you don't want to do this. Minutes pass as everyone waits on you to say your part, only you can't remember and don't know how to say or explain your predicament. No English is allowed (can't stress this enough). You want to do this when you're ready and feel comfortable, but you must do it now, scared crapless. I'll liken the awkwardness to you walking over to some neighbor you don't know, and asking for two hundred dollars, only you have to ask in a British accent and be serious about it. As the conversation progresses it gets more awkward and harder to remember why you're there. It feels terrible, it feels fake , it feels like you're an actor and what you're doing is not helping anyone. Every instinct you have cries out to just let you leave and forget it all. Try to imagine that, then doing it 5 times in a row to different people. You'll be back in a week to do it again. Once I explained to a teacher who was waiting in the hallway how pointless it was for me and how I just wasn't going to do it today. I was supremely frustrated, I had not learned any Spanish since the last time I went through the door (5 minutes previous) and how going back in and trying again was pointless. I stated my arguments clearly and without shame and shrugged as to what else he could say to make me want to do it. He had no real response, and walked away. I'm sure he was dissapointed, guilt is a great motivator for a lot of teachers (and a lot of missionaries, myself included at the top of the list).
I'm not completely glad I did it at all, it didn't break my fears, improve my Spanish or help me in anything but accepting I was stuck there and had to do it. Stress, like I said, is a key factor in the MTC. It was here, by one of my better teachers I thought, where I learned possibly the most life-changing lesson anyone could have given me: "fake it 'till you make it". Understand that when I heard this, and was convinced it was True, gave myself fully to it. Like any principle it is simple, but always follows the rules of relativity. There is a time and place for each principle and deciphering these two key elements is of the utmost importance. Failure to do so can lead to heartache, disillusionment, pain, feeling cheated, and numerous other problems.
I am terrible at basketball, through and through. However it wasn't until I played with my district that they started to like me and accept me into the district clique. Our days were extremely long (they felt like 20 hour days) and being around the same ten guys for even a few days and not feeling welcome was hard. Everything is magnified in the MTC, every look, every comment, every moment of exhaustion. Interviews every other day: teachers would give performance reviews and let you know whether they thought you were trying, progressing, and asked what changes you could make to better enable your performance. Oh, and to repent. Don't forget to repent. It seems insane to think about now, but that's the way the MTC is. People will straight up ask you if you've been repenting during a hard time. Sometimes it comes across the right way, sometimes it doesn't. Righteous zeal is abundant and rampant in the MTC. I was a victim of it's lures immediately, having a predisposition to thinking myself smarter than everyone else. And I didn't lay it down for a while. It made me prickly and pompous, and not well liked. I lived under this ideology: If it is wrong, say it's wrong, you cannot claim something is right when you know it is wrong. It was more important to me to point out the error first (in myself or for others) and then attempt to remedy it. It was a hard line to walk, and it is hard to be around someone who is brutal honest. But that's how I was.
Those who had spanish were resented by those who hadn't "cheated" like the others. It seemed an unfair advantage. Having a companion to answer questions changed life completely. This feeling was always present. When anyone made progress you felt like you were sliding backwards. It was only when the worst of everyone made progress, or the best of us struggled that there was unity.
Every class is in the language you are learning. There aren't breaks, it is pounded in every hour of every day for almost two months of 18 hour days. It isn't pleasant, it's necessary, but it isn't pleasant. I was the only one in my district to get the Visa cleared to go to the MTC down in the DR (from here on Dominican Rep. will be referenced as the DR). I was happy to go, a new companion (two actually, we were a threesome for a week) and a new MTC. It was freezing in Provo and I wanted the tropics of the DR.
I'd like to talk about the Spirit somewhat. There were moments in the MTC, besides all the hustle and bustle to feel the spirit. Real conversations about life and love happened, and it was wonderful. The devotionals were spectacular and everyone felt elevated and elated afterwords. We were constantly reminded how great of a task that was laid before us, and it was ours to take and make our stand in the world for Truth. It was a stark contrast of feeling that could bring anyone to tears. The inner struggles every single person had mixed with the love we felt from our Heavenly Father. Simply put the MTC is a crucible.
I suppose I also must interject something I believe here, or at least am dealing with. And that is the principle of being reconverted based on past experiences. I don't know if I can be at this time. I encounter this principle often enough in the scriptures to understand that it exists and is true, but like I said before with principles: time and place. At this time in my life I don't believe it aplies to myself. Having redefined who I am, and tried to discover who I am, I can't rely on experiences of who I was. I'm not the same person therefore how can I rely on my flawed memory and possibly skewed mind? Maybe this makes no sense, but what matters is that I understand it. It matters a lot to me to understand these things about myself. This is not to say I don't believe in the Spirit or the Spirit of conversion, don't misinterpret me. I believe it is the only thing that can convert or communicate our Fathers love for us, but at this time in my life I need constant updates, that is all.
Some missionaries had great companions (just that they got along and had similar habits, humor, etc.) to make their MTC experience go smooth. And just gloss over most things I talked about here, but the fact is I had a fairly easy time comparatively. I was jealous of some, pitied others. It's impossible to sum up, but like anything difficult, once it has been a few years you're always greatful for the experience.
Well, that was a lot of stuff. And that was just my first two weeks in the MTC, hah. I realized while I was writing this that I couldn't possibly cover it all, but I could highlight on the key points, and I think I did a good job from my perspective anyway. I am always reluctant to discuss a lot of happenings in my experiences for fear of coming off as prideful, sinful and a lot of other "ful's" in conversations with people. I don't necessarily need advise on what I could have done better on my mission. I hate to resort to the "You weren't there" argument when discussing a difficult situtaion. Hopefully I won't have to, hopefully I can take you there. That's the goal anyway.
-A
Chapter 1
So I'm 19 and think I'm smarter than everyone else. I have these very strange meandering discussions with my friends about religion, relationships, friends, habits, politics (lots of that), essentially everything under the sun. I am the one Mormon in the bunch but I garner a lot of respect from them. I believe that our 4 hour discussions are really doing something, such as preparing me for teaching the gospel, helping the world, etc. And really they were, I was trimming my arguments, I was hedging my beliefs, everything was getting more refined as we discussed. I was a lean mean Mormon argument winning machine. Fallacies beware, I was on the lose.
I know I ruffled feathers at home with my sisters and even parents with my latest zany realizations. But if you're going to walk down this path those are inevitable I think. Anything and everything that our culture normalized and deemed "normal" I challenged. I was curious as to why we did the things we did and if we could just change the world would be fixed. Idealism was rampant, and I found myself alive in it. It was a great time.
My papers arrived 4 weeks to the day I sent them out. Dominican Republic it was. Spanish... I failed Spanish in high school, however, I felt like it would be okay for whatever reason this time, this time with the MTC and the Spirit it would be okay.
I said goodbye to everyone, kissed my girlfriend goodbye, hugged everyone and went upstairs to play some Battlefield with my brother (computer game, was a spectacularly good one). We played for about an hour and I went to bed. Gaming is how I got to know my brother, and my brother was and is a huge influence in my life. Gaming is also maybe a few posts on it's own, so I wont get into it.
This will probably be the most boring chapter, I didn't know how to start it or end it, and even the middle was lacking. However I just had to get it out of the way. I promise better next chapter: Chapter 2: The MTC
I know I ruffled feathers at home with my sisters and even parents with my latest zany realizations. But if you're going to walk down this path those are inevitable I think. Anything and everything that our culture normalized and deemed "normal" I challenged. I was curious as to why we did the things we did and if we could just change the world would be fixed. Idealism was rampant, and I found myself alive in it. It was a great time.
My papers arrived 4 weeks to the day I sent them out. Dominican Republic it was. Spanish... I failed Spanish in high school, however, I felt like it would be okay for whatever reason this time, this time with the MTC and the Spirit it would be okay.
I said goodbye to everyone, kissed my girlfriend goodbye, hugged everyone and went upstairs to play some Battlefield with my brother (computer game, was a spectacularly good one). We played for about an hour and I went to bed. Gaming is how I got to know my brother, and my brother was and is a huge influence in my life. Gaming is also maybe a few posts on it's own, so I wont get into it.
This will probably be the most boring chapter, I didn't know how to start it or end it, and even the middle was lacking. However I just had to get it out of the way. I promise better next chapter: Chapter 2: The MTC
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
I'm on a mission
After thinking about it for a little while today, I've decided to dedicate several posts (probably long ones, sorry) to and about my mission. I've probably spoken at length to several people about it. But I doubt I've really divulged everything. I'm doing this because I feel the need to be honest about it and I'd like to enlighten others about it. Keep in mind that my experience is 100% unique and is no way similar to anyone's mission experience, though there will be similarities to be found I'm sure. So, I might go chronologically in order to organize it for myself and everyone else, possibly separated by companions. Hopefully it will be funny and eye opening, but I can't promise anything, you might end up thinking something completely different, and that's to be expected I suppose. I might not immediately amend a bad decision with the end lesson, like "...I decided to kiss her, and it was amazing - only I learned later on that it was the worst decision ever blah blah blah" (spoiler alert: I didn't kiss anyone on my mission, it's just an example), and some experiences/decisions might be even more subtle than that. I'm sure the lesson will present itself later on in a future chapter! But, again, this is purely an experiment. Maybe I'll forget to wrap something up and I'll need a reminder, my mind isn't a steel trap.
Hopefully at the end I, like you, will be better to understand who I am and who I am today. And hopefully afterwords I'll rarely feel the need to bring up my mission experiences, being cliche is not a trait in which I hold high esteem. But there are some experiences that aren't cliche I promise.
Anyway, I'll possibly post the first tomorrow: Chapter 1 : "So, I'm 19 and think I'm smarter than everyone else"
-G'night
Hopefully at the end I, like you, will be better to understand who I am and who I am today. And hopefully afterwords I'll rarely feel the need to bring up my mission experiences, being cliche is not a trait in which I hold high esteem. But there are some experiences that aren't cliche I promise.
Anyway, I'll possibly post the first tomorrow: Chapter 1 : "So, I'm 19 and think I'm smarter than everyone else"
-G'night
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Bored... let's see how crazy we can get
By crazy I mean write a post without thinking about it. I ate some salmon & chicken at Megan's house, played some Ticket to Ride (settlers meets...trains). It was fun, maybe the game wasn't the most well thought-out (no trading? What kind of modern railroad game is this!? hah jk) game ever, but it was enough to hold people's attentions. And that's all a game really has to do, it's the people playing and their interactions that make games fun. Take Apples to Apples. In a normal setting I think this game could very well be the most boring game ever. However, take 5 people with the right sense of humor (say, my friends back in Oregon) and it becomes a game that ride's as close to the edge (and over it, frequently) as you want to get. Belly aching laughter for hours (not to mention the endless inside joke possibility). And in the end it's the game that gets the credit for this. Unfair, because it's the people that make it good, not the game. The "game" is that good because we make it that good, we change the rules to work with our group dynamic instead of having to box ourselves into a possibly "lame" game. So, Ticket to Ride was fun because the people playing were fun, but I bet with a few modifications there could be endless laughter and a riotous time had by all. These are good times no one wants to end. However, it's really a utopia that this possibily exists in, it doesn't happen that often and when it does it's hard to hang onto it. Movies, TV, anything is like this I think. Right people, right place, right time. Finding what each group is best for isn't tough, but finding the right "game" (movies and tv can be great games with different kinds of commentary) for the given group is more difficult. I remember watching movies with my old friend Jen and afterwords we'd spend a few hours discussing the desicions each character made and why it made sense, I loved it. Or watching Anchorman with my friends back home. Right movie, right place, right time. I think board games are in this realm...
However, I spend long times between these moments and any touch of social gameplay is cherished. Thanks Megan again, I love your fam. Tell your mom I'll play sequence with her too.
-Peace
However, I spend long times between these moments and any touch of social gameplay is cherished. Thanks Megan again, I love your fam. Tell your mom I'll play sequence with her too.
-Peace
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Updates, here and there
New version of Firefox found here: http://www.mozilla.com/en-US/firefox/all-beta.html
New site for ye soft pirates out there: http://www.movieago.com/
New site for ye soft pirates out there: http://www.movieago.com/
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Men & Women - a long one...that's what she said, but lets do it...that's what she said
In a tangent of a previous post, I often think about finding happiness in my life where I can. From a psychologist point of view, we shouldn't need another person in order to feel happy or fulfilled. Since there are enough people in the world who don't have a partner I have to believe that God didn't mean for us to be hopeless if we don't have a "better half" (in the physical sense of being alone, you can't have fulfilling conversations with the spirit no matter how hard you may try hah). I like to think about this because I, like most people I believe, enjoy justifying the decisions and thoughts I have are planned or chosen by wisdom or some crap haha. But anyway, I am torn between the fulfillment that another can provide and reaching some sort of "personal zen" where I can be content with which ever situation I may find myself in. But the more I think about this the more I realize it's just really impossible. If life never stops how could you ever quantify "now" and figure out the maximum amount of happiness from it? You can't, no one second is ever the same, even if nothing changes for you. The fact that nothing has change is change it's self - dealing with perpetual normalty is just as difficult as changes.
But in the end I can feel the need for true companionship, that men and women can't be 100% without each other. That we, as individuals, can make believe to reach some sort of "personal zen" of contentment, but our level of completion is really limited, even if we max out our possible happiness for that one moment. Even though most couples don't ever exist on the 100% plane often, they DO get to be there, which an individual would never truly obtain (I'm guessing I've reached an 70-80% of max possibly happiness in my life at one time) And obviously consistancy is important, sustaining a high percent is where people feel "happy" in their lives, peaks are not enough. Or maybe they're on completely different scales and comparing the two is irrelevant. It's very interesting to me however.
Sorry if this was a really nerdy scientific look on the Proclamation to the Family. But I find I must investigate even the "obvious" truths we proclaim. Too often I hear what sounds like "truth" and accept it without really looking at it.
But in the end I can feel the need for true companionship, that men and women can't be 100% without each other. That we, as individuals, can make believe to reach some sort of "personal zen" of contentment, but our level of completion is really limited, even if we max out our possible happiness for that one moment. Even though most couples don't ever exist on the 100% plane often, they DO get to be there, which an individual would never truly obtain (I'm guessing I've reached an 70-80% of max possibly happiness in my life at one time) And obviously consistancy is important, sustaining a high percent is where people feel "happy" in their lives, peaks are not enough. Or maybe they're on completely different scales and comparing the two is irrelevant. It's very interesting to me however.
Sorry if this was a really nerdy scientific look on the Proclamation to the Family. But I find I must investigate even the "obvious" truths we proclaim. Too often I hear what sounds like "truth" and accept it without really looking at it.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
How to be a Pirate.
Having traveled the Seven Seas of this here internet and lived to tell the tale of many a plundering, I have been requested, nay, offered with the chance to teach my pirate ways to ye land-lubbers.
Get yer boat ready
Bittorrent is your primary source of good booty. Download uTorrent . This program will allow you to go to thepiratebay.org and search for... well, whatever you pirate heart desires. Other pirates are very generous and trade good constantly. So, you need the torrent application (uTorrent) and you search for your downloads at thepiratebay.org. Simple enough. Torrents work like this: The more you share, the more people share. You can't really use the internet well while uTorrent is running (it really sucks the bandwidth), so just open it up and let it run when you go to bed, and in the morning you'll have the first complete season of 90120 ready for your viewing pleasure.
This means you need a few programs in order to keep a step ahead of the Eastern Trading Company (your ISP). Peerguardian is it. It keeps the sniffing dogs in their kenels and out of your headwind. Run this program with your uTorrent and you'll be riding high.
A wee bit'O Pirating
There are of course other ways (less complicated, but less rewarding) of being a pirate as well. Along side youtube, there are numerous video hosting sites out there. You don't have to necessarily FIND these sites (as they are impossible to navigate due to the sites being in China). You can simply find the sites that find the links you want within those sites. For example:
www.watch-movies.net is a great site with a large selection and multiple links to each movie (some work better than others).
movie6.net This one is decent
www14.alluc.org This one is really good for TV shows.
The best part of these sites is that you aren't downloading anything, it's streaming to your computer. It is like your local DI or Goodwill when they bring the bins in, sometimes you find a real gem of a upload (DVD quality with a good stream). Sometimes it's a hand held camera... and sometimes you don't care what it is, you're just bored and so you watch it anyway.
Getting Sent to the Gallows
I know what you're thinking, isn't this dangerous and can't I get caught? It's not as dangerous as you think, and theoretically you can get caught. But the Eastern Trading Company is using a harpoon to catch fish... it only works well on whales. As long as you're a small fish the chances of you getting hit by that harpoon are VERY small. Also, they're going after the pirates that are distributing their goods, not collecting.
The Pirates Code
1. I already paid for it the first time I watched it.
2. If I haven't paid for it, and I watch it and I liked it, I will rent it or see it in theaters a second time.
3. If I haven't paid for it, and I watched it and I hated it, I won't pay for it to ensure that the makers of these movies don't make any money from me to slow the progress of bad movie making.
Thanks for reading and enjoy the internet. It's distribution powers are here to set us free from the tyranny of Imperial Distributers.
-Arg
Get yer boat ready
Bittorrent is your primary source of good booty. Download uTorrent . This program will allow you to go to thepiratebay.org and search for... well, whatever you pirate heart desires. Other pirates are very generous and trade good constantly. So, you need the torrent application (uTorrent) and you search for your downloads at thepiratebay.org. Simple enough. Torrents work like this: The more you share, the more people share. You can't really use the internet well while uTorrent is running (it really sucks the bandwidth), so just open it up and let it run when you go to bed, and in the morning you'll have the first complete season of 90120 ready for your viewing pleasure.
This means you need a few programs in order to keep a step ahead of the Eastern Trading Company (your ISP). Peerguardian is it. It keeps the sniffing dogs in their kenels and out of your headwind. Run this program with your uTorrent and you'll be riding high.
A wee bit'O Pirating
There are of course other ways (less complicated, but less rewarding) of being a pirate as well. Along side youtube, there are numerous video hosting sites out there. You don't have to necessarily FIND these sites (as they are impossible to navigate due to the sites being in China). You can simply find the sites that find the links you want within those sites. For example:
www.watch-movies.net is a great site with a large selection and multiple links to each movie (some work better than others).
movie6.net This one is decent
www14.alluc.org This one is really good for TV shows.
The best part of these sites is that you aren't downloading anything, it's streaming to your computer. It is like your local DI or Goodwill when they bring the bins in, sometimes you find a real gem of a upload (DVD quality with a good stream). Sometimes it's a hand held camera... and sometimes you don't care what it is, you're just bored and so you watch it anyway.
Getting Sent to the Gallows
I know what you're thinking, isn't this dangerous and can't I get caught? It's not as dangerous as you think, and theoretically you can get caught. But the Eastern Trading Company is using a harpoon to catch fish... it only works well on whales. As long as you're a small fish the chances of you getting hit by that harpoon are VERY small. Also, they're going after the pirates that are distributing their goods, not collecting.
The Pirates Code
1. I already paid for it the first time I watched it.
2. If I haven't paid for it, and I watch it and I liked it, I will rent it or see it in theaters a second time.
3. If I haven't paid for it, and I watched it and I hated it, I won't pay for it to ensure that the makers of these movies don't make any money from me to slow the progress of bad movie making.
Thanks for reading and enjoy the internet. It's distribution powers are here to set us free from the tyranny of Imperial Distributers.
-Arg
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
A large post, readers beware.
I got a phone call from non other than Jen Nelson yesterday. She's been married for sometime now and seems pretty happy, life is moving on, people she knows are having babies, school is ended, progression is happening. Good for her. But then, when people talk to other people who don't have any progression to speak about (sure, I progressed in my willingness to make my own food) it's hard not to feel like shiz. I mean, I'm happy living the way I'm living right? And it's just the perceived peer pressure of those around me that cause me to doubt this...right? I don't know, and I suppose that's what makes my life exciting.
I suppose I was going to have to write about being alone at some time, suppose now is the best time. "Am I anti-social?" is the real question, and maybe I am. But maybe there's more out there than just social and anti-social, maybe this line we draw across the sand to divide those who are and aren't just further separates us from understanding one another. Maybe I'm just talking out my ass, but no one else is saying it.
So, why am I relationshipless? Why have I not been on more than 2 dates in the past 3 years? Why don't I just get out and get on with my life? The truth isn't pleasant and doesn't satisfy curious minds. The truth is that I'm caught in a social catch-22 and I don't know how to break out. Having a poor self image (I call it realistic, others might call it terrible) makes it really hard for me to be me infront of people who I want to be liked by. I can't break out of my bad self image, I base this on previous experiences which has lead me to this point, and so I am stuck within anonymity. Stuck within my shell of the "short guy in the corner" syndrom. It's rare that conversations are ever geared towards anything I can contribute to. And if there is no conversation, there is no chance for me. Not in that setting anyway. I'm so sick of people trying to give me advise like "Oh, you just need to get out there and have fun" or "You just need to...(incert BS statement here)". Why does everyone lack the confidence in me to know that I've maybe tried these things, and maybe I've studied it and have come to these conclusions. It's like I had some phoebia and someone is trying to cure my phoebia by saying "You just need to not be afraid!". Ya, obviously, unfortunately you're trying to cure the symptoms not the disease (in the example, I'm not saying I have a disease). I get so frustrated discussing this with people because of this that I really just don't bother anymore. At the end of these conversations I end up feeling even more alone... I'm drowning and people love to describe the water for me.
These are just observations mind you, nothing conclusive. Tomorrow I might find out I'm one hot piece of meat and disregard everything I just wrote. Too many minds.
Anyway, sorry for the long post. Like with most things I say and think about it's best taken with a grain of salt.
I suppose I was going to have to write about being alone at some time, suppose now is the best time. "Am I anti-social?" is the real question, and maybe I am. But maybe there's more out there than just social and anti-social, maybe this line we draw across the sand to divide those who are and aren't just further separates us from understanding one another. Maybe I'm just talking out my ass, but no one else is saying it.
So, why am I relationshipless? Why have I not been on more than 2 dates in the past 3 years? Why don't I just get out and get on with my life? The truth isn't pleasant and doesn't satisfy curious minds. The truth is that I'm caught in a social catch-22 and I don't know how to break out. Having a poor self image (I call it realistic, others might call it terrible) makes it really hard for me to be me infront of people who I want to be liked by. I can't break out of my bad self image, I base this on previous experiences which has lead me to this point, and so I am stuck within anonymity. Stuck within my shell of the "short guy in the corner" syndrom. It's rare that conversations are ever geared towards anything I can contribute to. And if there is no conversation, there is no chance for me. Not in that setting anyway. I'm so sick of people trying to give me advise like "Oh, you just need to get out there and have fun" or "You just need to...(incert BS statement here)". Why does everyone lack the confidence in me to know that I've maybe tried these things, and maybe I've studied it and have come to these conclusions. It's like I had some phoebia and someone is trying to cure my phoebia by saying "You just need to not be afraid!". Ya, obviously, unfortunately you're trying to cure the symptoms not the disease (in the example, I'm not saying I have a disease). I get so frustrated discussing this with people because of this that I really just don't bother anymore. At the end of these conversations I end up feeling even more alone... I'm drowning and people love to describe the water for me.
These are just observations mind you, nothing conclusive. Tomorrow I might find out I'm one hot piece of meat and disregard everything I just wrote. Too many minds.
Anyway, sorry for the long post. Like with most things I say and think about it's best taken with a grain of salt.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Mothers Day Post
My Mom has a very big and generous heart. I know everyone I have ever met that has met my Mom has complimented me on having such a great Mom. "Thanks," I reply "I know". And knowing is a spoiling thought, because knowing and living with someone so great can be not so great. Expectations from that someone as generous arrive, then demands, and eventually let down. I know I could ask about anything from my Mom and I would probably get it, so knowing this, I try to refrain from asking for anything monetary (waffles don't count). I don't want to have my relationship with my Mom to be that what it was when I was 8 (which was she was the provider of new Ninja Turtle action figures).
Being the "baby", I have been living as "the Last" and have been nurtured as such (not an entirely bad deal). But I remember trying to break from this in order to gain my independence... it was heartbreaking for both of us I know. Only in movies and hindsight can this go smoothly, but I don't regret it. It was no ones fault, it was just life moving on. I think we can both say we are closer now than ever. I love you Mom and I hope you have a wonderful mothers day.
As with my childhood tradition, I write some terrible poem (they have all been terrible I think, I can't remember the last one I wrote). So, here we go!
Once I wrote as a child
and the child was dear,
soft words were set down,
'twas messy and clear.
With love and craft,
a small gift for mom
A few paltry words,
it passed to her palm.
"What I want to say,
is I love you everyday,
I haven't gotten any better
at writing poems or...
So I love you, and have a great day!"
Happy Mothers day Mom, Susan, Lisa, Rachel, Becky, Jenell, Andrea, Michelle, Morgan, and Megan. Enjoy!
Being the "baby", I have been living as "the Last" and have been nurtured as such (not an entirely bad deal). But I remember trying to break from this in order to gain my independence... it was heartbreaking for both of us I know. Only in movies and hindsight can this go smoothly, but I don't regret it. It was no ones fault, it was just life moving on. I think we can both say we are closer now than ever. I love you Mom and I hope you have a wonderful mothers day.
As with my childhood tradition, I write some terrible poem (they have all been terrible I think, I can't remember the last one I wrote). So, here we go!
Once I wrote as a child
and the child was dear,
soft words were set down,
'twas messy and clear.
With love and craft,
a small gift for mom
A few paltry words,
it passed to her palm.
"What I want to say,
is I love you everyday,
I haven't gotten any better
at writing poems or...
So I love you, and have a great day!"
Happy Mothers day Mom, Susan, Lisa, Rachel, Becky, Jenell, Andrea, Michelle, Morgan, and Megan. Enjoy!
Friday, May 9, 2008
Refined Movies
Since I've stop paying for movies (I'm a pirate, my eye patch should arriving anytime now...) I've been able to re-evaluate what I like and dislike. You see, when I pay 7-9 dollars I'm expecting to get something in return. When I go to the movies now its generally just to "get out" and hang with friends/family. So in that regard I suppose its still worth the money. But -back to my pirate ways - watching all my movies for free really enables me to really not care what I'm watching, thus I am more perceptive to the subtleties of the movie such as - "the director was going for this" or "they tried to pull this off..." and it can be more fun, like watching a movie made by a friend. Imagine if I wrote and directed Ghost Rider (A particularly terrible Nickolas Cage superhero movie) everyone reading this would claim it to be "amazing" and be impressed to your bottom nickers that I had made it. You would forget the glaring bad acting, the bad script and poor resolution, you would be able to purely enjoy it because it WOULD be amazing if someone you know made it. But there isn't much difference between the person you know and the real director/editor you don't know. So why not treat them the same? I will say that swashbuckling has revitalized my love and enjoyment of all movies. My critics code of criticism has been washed clean.
They're more like guidelines anyway.
-Arg
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Movies, Refined
When I was younger, I didn't read books, in fact I never read a book until I was in high school. So instead of learning about the world and people around me through books (the best way imo) I learned from movies. I had a few movies that touched me very deeply and allowed me to mature for which I am forever grateful. Since that time (ended when I started reading books) I look back on some of these movies with personal reverence, others with just fondness, and most with just a healthy respect.
Romantic Comedies
When Harry Met Sally
Love Actually
Shallow Hal
Hitch
As Good As it Gets
Drama
Awakenings
Good Will Hunting
Braveheart
The Shawshank Redemption
The Last Samurai
Comedy
Anchorman
Borat
Kiss Kiss Bang Bang
Superbad
Scifi/Fantasy
Spider-Man 2
Lord of The Rings
Abyss
Signs
Solaris
Offbeat
Memento
Primer
*Stranger Than Fiction
Foreign
Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon
Old Boy
*Infernal Affairs
Animated
Ratatouille
Iron Giant
*newly updated to list
Romantic Comedies
When Harry Met Sally
Love Actually
Shallow Hal
Hitch
As Good As it Gets
Drama
Awakenings
Good Will Hunting
Braveheart
The Shawshank Redemption
The Last Samurai
Comedy
Anchorman
Borat
Kiss Kiss Bang Bang
Superbad
Scifi/Fantasy
Spider-Man 2
Lord of The Rings
Abyss
Signs
Solaris
Offbeat
Memento
Primer
*Stranger Than Fiction
Foreign
Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon
Old Boy
*Infernal Affairs
Animated
Ratatouille
Iron Giant
*newly updated to list
Sunday, May 4, 2008
To my many fans...
So, maybe I've been long winded in my posts. I'll try to keep them more condensed from now on (however difficult it is, it is all for you, dear reader).
What's interesting about this blog is only three people read it. Megan, Michelle and myself. I suppose it's because I'm a coward I don't tell more people about it. I like that Michelle reads it because sometimes I don't think she understands why I am the way I am, and we've been so close for most our lives that seems like a shame. And I like that Megan reads it, because she has no idea who I am and can at any moment decide she hates/disagrees or is fed up with my BS and just stops reading it. And I read it, I like to read what I write.
So, to you dear readers, thanks. (A special thank you to myself, for being so humble)
ps. Don't you cherish those arguments with people when they say, "I'm more humble than you are!" I've had quite a few I think, and it always cheers me up when I think back to them.
What's interesting about this blog is only three people read it. Megan, Michelle and myself. I suppose it's because I'm a coward I don't tell more people about it. I like that Michelle reads it because sometimes I don't think she understands why I am the way I am, and we've been so close for most our lives that seems like a shame. And I like that Megan reads it, because she has no idea who I am and can at any moment decide she hates/disagrees or is fed up with my BS and just stops reading it. And I read it, I like to read what I write.
So, to you dear readers, thanks. (A special thank you to myself, for being so humble)
ps. Don't you cherish those arguments with people when they say, "I'm more humble than you are!" I've had quite a few I think, and it always cheers me up when I think back to them.
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