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
