Week 7: Pioneer Children Sang as They Walked...

Poverty.

That's a thing.

When I first got here, it was all I could see. The first thing we did the first moment we got here to my area (Mazetenango) was go to lunch at the house of the wonderful member woman who cooks a meal a day for us.

On the way we met a member woman named Gris in a green-painted shop and I stared at the trash on the side of the road and the cars barreling down the streets without thought for laws or safety, and the balding, flea-bitten dogs lying pitifully on the uneven sidewalk.... it was like all those romanticized pictures or documentary screenshots of third world countries - except with an overcast sky and a nice Mormon woman who was hugging me, convincing me this was REAL. People actually live like this and for the next 18 months I'm going to live like this, spending all of my time talking about religion and trying to bring people who don't all have clean water to church. Suddenly that seemed like a really trivial thing to be doing.

The miraculous thing is that it's not. We stopped on the side of the road with this woman who's 70 years old and every day sits with a fraying pink flyswatter behind a table with a couple bowls of fallen from tree fruit, selling it. I've never seen anyone buying it but everyone stops and talks with her and wishes her a good day and she looks after her grandkids through the open door into their living space. This day there wasn't anyone around and it was about to rain. We stopped and asked her about her self and her business and chatted about the gospel and God and found that she loves the Catholic church even though she doesn't go and her husband left her a long time ago. While we were talking she slipped two mangoes into our hands, a gift for the stranger girls with nametags. We left her with a prayer and a hymn and a little more peace in all of our hearts.

Later that day, my companion, brave Spanish speaking soul that she is, stopped in front of a house where a shirtless man with a long frazzly beard and patchwork pants was trying to mend the sole of a shoe. Not two words into the conversation we noticed all manner of dusty porn posters on the wall behind him. I wanted to vomit, from that and from the cow stomach we ate at lunch. But I didn't. We looked into his eyes and asked if he ever went to church and then we sang him ''Divina Luz'' ('Lead, Kindly Light') and I guarantee you it was the first time in years that that man had felt anything like a child of God.

So poverty is a thing, but it's not at the same time. It's just normal here. And as I forget what it's like to have air conditioning and feel clean, and get accustomed to putting a rock over the drain in the sink outside where we wash our dishes and clothes (so cockroaches don't come up in the night), I start to feel at home and love these people and see the very, very real ways the gospel blesses their lives. We went to church on Sunday and I just bawled all through the start of Sacrament meeting to see the families walking in together and the deacons in their white pressed shirts passing the bread that represents the sacrifice of Christ, which reaches here and everywhere in the world.

And they'll never be enough time to account all the experiences of this week or the weeks to come, but I want you to know there have been a thousand beautiful moments.

God is so good. My Spanish is coming along. This weekend is Easter. They have peanut butter and jelly in the grocery stores here. It's hot and humid every day like August in Indiana. People think it's strange that I'm white. The little kids are so cute. Women greet each other with besitos, which is friendly. I miss houses that are built up high off the ground. My companion is cooing to the pet parakeet that lives in the courtyard and a few paragraphs ago there was a little earthquake.

I missed my mom a LOT the first few days (and Emily Kathman too, and Hannah Quinn (thank you for your letters, I promise to mail yours next week!!) and Grandaddy and Grandma Mae and everyone) and am starting to feel just how long 18 months is going to be. But I KNOW this is the right thing to be doing, because I know God is greater than me and all of us and that his restored church is on the earth again and he has led me here, with the purpose of doing this. And though I may feel lonely and scared in the mornings, when we go out into the hot street and start testifying to people about modern day prophets and Christ coming to the Americas and they look at me like I'm crazy, I feel alive and certain again. Because I KNOW these things are true. And, inexplicably, I love these strangers in this foreign country so much, I want them to know too.

Week 6: Pictures from the CCM (Mission Training Center)

Sorry, there's no letter this week. I'm moving on prep day. Here's a few pictures from the training center.

Week 5: Eight Girls on an Elevator, One Taller Than the Rest

Greetings from Guatemala! This will be my last week writing from the CCM... And today I have the announcement that I have been put in a different district! Several of the people in my group left early for their missions, and we were down to four. That's not enough people to merit a class, so they split us up. My two companions, who I had come to love so dearly and now miss much - we shout Spanglish to each other when we pass in the hallway and now sneak hugs at every opportunity - got put in one of the districts of the 29 missionaries from the U.S. who arrived last week, along with our sole elder.

And they really did put me in a Spanish-speaking district! So I'm repeating some of the lessons but it's good practice anyway still because it's in Spanish. At this point, I can understand 90 percent of what teachers say and participate in class well, but I only get about 40 percent of informal conversations. So it's been good for me (and probably very annoying for those around me) to be living with people who only speak Spanish and to have a companion from Honduras, named Hermana Betancourth. She is SO cool. I will have to devote a complete blog post to each of my companions, if I ever get time. (Also there is one other person in our district who speaks fluent English - she's 19 too, from Australia, but with Chilean parents.)

Anyway, our district is awesome. We laugh a lot and have some incredible spiritual moments. A lot of the elders are the very first missionaries in their family, one was baptized a year ago and has already done a mini-mission, and one gave up a professional soccer contract to come on a mission. But, despite how amazing and incredible everyone is, it was kind of a shock to go from a very English, U.S.-like environment, to one that was really and truly Spanish and Central American.

And here comes the 'profound' reflection: Beginning when I started college or maybe a bit before, I started to realize that things don't much matter. That as long as you're surrounded by a group of people who love you, it doesn't really matter whether you live in a bunk bed in half a dorm room or the laundry room of your parents' house or on a whole bunch of peoples' couches. I thought I had accomplished something, come to one of life's bigger conclusions, to have figured out and truly come to believe people were the most important, that physical environments and things could change, but that people could be the foundation.

Then, all of a sudden, I was here, for the first time fully enveloped in Latin culture, something I have wanted for ages, and I found myself missing American ways of exclaiming 'oh, I found the page number' or the heights of my American friends when they give hugs. And then I realized that love is just like things, as far as missing it goes. In that, if I am fully and completely enveloped in the arms of my Savior's love (2 Nephi 1:15), I am centered and sane and inwardly happy enough to accept the elbow bumps and permanent smiles and spontaneous hugs of my fiery little companion as if they were the arms of my very own mother - at least for these 18 months. That's because Christ is my Savior and my companion's and my mother's - and all the love that we on this earth are busy (or not as busy as we should be) giving each other is just a shadow and a type and reflection of his, meant to teach us how to be a little more like him. So I will take what love comes my way these 18 months and always, and will give out absolutely as much as I can for as long as I can and as well as I can.
Okay, I'm trusting my mom to clean that up and put some paragraphs. Sorry, it's not as good as I'd like to make it if I had more time, there's a group of rowdy elders outside waiting their turn at the computer. I promise lots of details next time about the Guatemalan countryside, because by then I'll have traveled by bus across half this country to my wonderful, beautiful, love-it-already mission!

Much love, much faith,

Hermana Ison :)

Week 4: Changes in the CCM

Hey guys! Guess what? I am currently in possession of a cell phone. This is because I'm a coordinating sister for the hermanas (sisters, missionaries)in the MTC right now. I'm in charge of fostering unity, organizing nightly prayer, and having the cell phone in case something goes wrong in the house where we live separate from the CCM. Interestingly, however, I will only have this cell phone for one day! That's because I got called to this position yesterday by someone who did not know (and I did not know at the time) that tomorrow I move out of our house back into the CCM into a district (group of missionaries) of the Latinos who are here for two weeks because they don't have to learn Spanish! This is because our district-which is now down to three sisters and four elders-is getting dissolved into new districts tomorrow when 29 more 6-weekers arrive from the states! They're putting me with Spanish-speaking people because I've basically begged for it for the last two weeks. I am way excited, though genuinely sad to be leaving my old companions. We have had some serious success lately!

Yesterday we taught three lessons and in them all had unity and felt the Spirit and addressed the needs of our investigators. Furthermore, we have a REAL investigator! On Friday we got to go out and talk to people near the temple grounds about the church. I am beginning to see that journalism is excellent preparation for missionary work. We talked to this man, Estuardo, who was holding the hand of his three year old daughter, Fatima, who had a bright pink shoes and dress and a yellow lollipop because she'd just gotten a shot at the hospital. Estuardo is a business professor who's three fourths chapino (Guatemalan) but was born in Israel. He's a business professor and he reminds me of Brother Horowitz a lot. Anyway, he's super nice. We spoke with him in Spanish and English and talked about being missionaries and his life and the church. We expected to just give people folletos (pamphlets) or whatever, but at the end we got his contact information and set up a return appointment for Thursday. We call tomorrow night to confirm! I am way excited.

I liked talking to him because it was a super genuine meeting. We were down to earth, explaining “No, Hermana is not all of our first names.” He was honest in his questions like “Are you just here for a few weeks to shove your religion onto Guatemalan people?” We were honest in return “No; we're here for 18 months because we care about this gospel and all the people in the world.” My companion shared her conversion story and I shared my testimony of temples. We were walking the temple grounds by this point and it was so good. I don't know if I have EVER been as happy as I was walking back to the CCM after talking to Estaurdo. After having been in a building for four weeks, learning and practicing but not really helping anyone, here was a chance. And in this chance, we met someone who really does believe -he told us so- that this message can better his life.

Tambien (Also), today we went on a short tour of Guatemala City –“Oh my gosh it is so gorgeous.” We went to a market and a Wendy's and then to this beautiful public plaza to try to talk to people about the church. We ended up giving someone a Book of Mormon, and I loved it because when we talked to a man about it and listened to what he had to say, his eyes shone. He was wearing a yellow shirt and was on a lunch break from a nearby building, where he's a lawyer. We took his contact information too, and he said he would welcome a visit from some missionaries. – We promised, laughingly, to send ones who spoke better Spanish than us.

I just want to say that I love Guatemala, I love Christ and his gospel, and I love my family so much. I am so lucky to know so many good letter writers, my brother Robert probably ranking among the best. Thank you guys :)

Tambien, being in downtown Guatemala reminded me so much of London. So much. What with the open plazas, old cathedrals, and busy markets, it’s very much European. And a little bit like what I saw of Seattle. And a very big bit just Guatemalan. I love, love, love it, and am very much planning on someday coming back just to study the culture and architecture and society and things. My humanities classes have prepared me very well, I think, in that I'll have a lot to think about if I ever need a break from thinking about investigators and the gospel when I go tracting (looking for people to teach) one day. And I can't wait to meet and get to know more people who live here.

Every time a group of 2-weekers leave, it's such a cool experience. So many have fantastic stories - I wish I had time to summarize even a few. I’m standing in the CCM parking lot, frantically taking pictures, giving them hugs and summoning up some Spanish phrases to try and express how much I appreciate their love for the gospel and each other, the sacrifices they've made to serve missions, and the hope they have in the future.

There are so many incredible people in the world, and I am beginning to see life is a wonderful gift of getting to meet a few of them here and there and some at a time. That probably doesn't make sense and I'm running out of time, but I love you all, I love everything, and just please, if you do anything, have the courage to do what you need to do to make your life the best it can be.

I'm trying, and, with all the ups and downs, it's turning out so well. Hasta luego, amigos (Until later, friends)

- Hermana Ison

Week 3: 22 Minutes and Counting

Want to know something funny? I’ve been appointed to a leadership position: the CCM music coordinator. I think this is what I get for not hiding that I’m bored in class. Fortunately, you do not actually have to be good at music to fill this job, you just have to organize which classes who want to sing in church or at devotionals get to do so on which days. This requires speaking Spanish, which I love.

This week we got brand new teachers (we have one in the afternoon and one in the evening, and both were replaced). Consequently, much of this week has involved me watching other people learn Spanish and watching teachers try to make the elders in our group remember what it means to be missionaries, as well as realize that they will in fact have to speak Spanish all the time once they leave the CCM. As a result, we have done some pretty interesting activities. It makes me sad, to watch teachers, who have been on missions themselves and seen the gospel change other people’s lives, and had it change theirs as well, try to convince a handful of pampered white Americans who have lived in bubbles all their lives (sorry for the harsh words) that they need to rise to the challenge that is before them (of understanding and loving a new culture, and realizing how important the gospel is, especially for people who've never felt God's love before.) But for one of these activities the teacher had a little box like you would put jewelry in. He told us inside the box we would see who the best missionary in the world is, and he had us all come up one at a time to look inside. I thought it would be empty, because we learn things through the Spirit of God, and only directly through the people who are teaching. But, instead, inside there was a mirror.

The real humbling experience came later in the week, though. I had been feeling angsty, bored, wishing I could be out in the mission already, trying hard not to complain about having already read everything in the manual we're learning from and knowing the Spanish we're being taught - and not succeeding very well, because it’s hard to smile lots in a room without any windows. Then we went to CRE, which is this little building next to the temple where members of the church from the city or from other parts of Central America come to pretend to be investigators learning about the church. It was our second time teaching as a trio instead of a companionship, and we taught these two little old women. They were SO SWEET. They helped us come up with Spanish phrases when we were searching for them, they asked good questions, and you could just tell that they were so happy to be with missionaries it was hard for them to keep up the charade of not already being Mormon. At the end each of them gave each of us a hug and a kiss. I walked away from CRE that day walking on air. And while the teacher's best missionary in a box activity helped humble me, the shine of that mirror could never hold a candle to the light in those two member's eyes. I dont know their stories, or when they found the church, but it was written in the smile lines of their faces how much the gospel of Jesus Christ means to them. And they loved us, automatically, just because we have Jesus' name on our nametags and are trying the best we can to be the people he would want us to be.

In other news, did you hear about the 58 new missions?!?!?! This is so exciting!!!! I feel like that is a LOT of new missions at once. There's going to be another one in Guatemala (not by me, but by where a couple of the people in my group will be going) and a temple too. Also, 8 in Mexico and 7 in Brazil!! Wow :)

So I'm in a trio now, which was initially very difficult because me and my original companion, Hermana C., were just rocking the socks off missionary training and had everything settled and were happy together. Our new companion, Hermana G, was super sad about her old companion leaving early for the mission and was acting pretty reluctant to become a part of a trio. It was a really, really, difficult process to get to where we are now, but we're here! And I will characterize this new blissful state of trio companionship by explaining that Hermana G. sent me to the bathroom at the start of dinner last night so that she could cut up by meat for me while I was gone. (I really hate bones.) I came back and was so delighted! It was the sweetest thing. (And just so no one, particularly my mom, will roll their eyes or worry about me not eating food in Guatemala, I do totally eat it, I just don't like to dissect the bones, and Hermana G. knew that and instead of judging me, served me, which was really sweet.) So now, even though our personalities are pretty different and we don’t always see eye to eye, we laugh and sing together and are becoming friends. It’s exactly what I wanted, and perfect; and I am so grateful that we are getting along better. (As soon as I figure out how this happened, I will tell you.)



There’s lots more to say, but I will just end with the delightful news that I got letters! They seem to take about two weeks to get here. Thank you SO much to those of you who've written. Okay, I have to go because time is up, but I love you all much and I love being a missionary! :)

Week 2: La Vista Hermosa

Hola, todos! I want to start this week off sharing SOME QUOTES from the last several days:

“I love the scriptures!” or “Me gustan las escrituras” is rapidly overtaking “I love everything” as my favorite phrase. Though, I love everything too.

“You will suffer. And you will cry." One of the sisters who's a teacher in the MTC stopped and scolded us one night as we were walking through the lobby speaking English. Gotta practice our espanol! 

“So we have five minutes to prepare.”

“Wanna talk about trucks?” This was the start to a conversation between the two elders in our district (group). They're pretty....funny, I guess.

“Apresuremos la obra." This means “We are hastening the work.” I absolutely love this phrase, and now I can say it in two languages. Jeffrey R. Holland (one of the apostles on the earth today) said that phrase a ton in a press conference about lowering the age at which missionaries can serve. An elder in the Seventy (church group of leaders) who gave us a devotional said it too. I'm here as a missionary because of that phrase, because the Lord wants more people on this earth to love and live as him.

“We all prayed before we got here, but I guess... not like this.” One of the elders in my district said this. Watching these other missionaries who have not grown up in Bloomington learn some things about diversity can be excruciating at times, but it is also absolutely wonderful to watch them rely on the Spirit as they learn Spanish and get accustomed to new things.

“TALLLLLL” This is the name of the computer program we use to practice Spanish. It says its name in a singing sound when you close out of it, so when everyone is done in the lab we pull out our headphones and it sounds like the Mormon Tabernacle Choir is singing an ode to language learning in the computer lab. Gotta love the details.

“Sisters, I love my Heavenly Father, and I did not come to this earth to never see him again.” Hermana Curtis, who taught one of the meetings on Sunday, said this. She grew up a very devoted member of the Catholic Church, married a Peace Corps volunteer in Guatemala in her 20s, and moved to the U.S. They joined the church a few years later. She is so sassy, I love her. And that heartfelt remark just touched my heart.

SPIRITUAL THOUGHT 

I just want to bear my testimony of Jesus Christ. He lived. He lives.

He came to this earth to be exactly obedient to his father. He loves us so much. And if we apply his atonement in our lives, we can have more happiness - and a different, better kind of happiness - than we have ever had before. He gives me so much hope, and I am so grateful.

COSAS INTERESANTES (INTERESTING THINGS)

Dia del Carino (Valentine's Day) in Central America. There were many Valentine cards exchanged among the sisters, and the elders decorated the whiteboard in our classroom. We had special Valentine’s Day desserts at lunch and dinner, and there was much pleasant festivity!

Singing. It happened. When we did companion exchanges on Sunday, my companions were singing in church. They had me do it with them! It was way fun. I like singing here in Central America, because everyone just belts their heart out, and you don't have to sound so perfect. Then, later in the day (two days before the first group of ‘2 weeks’(Spanish speakers) left; oh my gosh, I love those girls!!!), several of us gathered outside the dining hall singing a children's song we'd learned in one of the church meetings. Then, someone had the idea that those of us from the U.S. should sing in English and the Latinas could sing in Spanish at the same time, so we all sang A Child's Prayer together in our different languages, and it was SO beautiful. I will never forget the smiles in everyone's eyes that minute, or the hugs I got last night when those Latina girls left. They will make great missionaries.

I still have four more weeks here, though there was quite a scare this weekend when I didn't know if I'd be leaving today or not. One of the girls in my group, the one who is good at Spanish, is going to Panama and because of some scheduling miscommunication; she ended up leaving today, after three weeks! They thought that might happen to me, but it didn't, so now I'm in a trio with the two other girls in my group. This means I get to stay to go to the temple today (!!!) and on cool P-day trips, and can meet more awesome Latina girls, and see Haley Holland when she comes tomorrow! (Though I'm not going to lie, I got really excited at the prospect of going to Reu right away.)

It got to be 60 degrees this week for a little bit, and it was so funny to watch some of the people from Central and South America. They got so cold! They actually put on scarfs and sweaters. It was cute. I would totally be like that if I was from here.

Today for P-day we got to go to a church building and play outside, and then go to a mall and see stuff. On the way, we drove on the rest of Vista Hermosa Boulevard, which goes up this big mountain. We stopped and got out of the van to take pictures. It is SO pretty! The whole city of Guatemala is spread out below in the valley, and there's the Volcan Agua in the distance. I love, love, love it! I love the climate. I love the language and Guatemala. I do not love being around so many people from Utah trying to see if they have mutual friends and talking about BYU all the time. But, basically, I love everything. Especially Guatemalan pastries. And the scriptures.

LAST THOUGHTS.

Um, …we haven't received any mail yet, but I'm sure it’s on the way. I love you all and wish you the very best! And there are a million things I'm forgetting, so just give yourself a hug from me, smile, and enjoy your gorgeous life. And snow, if you have it! Whatever February is, you can keep it. Off to the temple!

Week 1: Message for the Blog

THE SETTING

I live in the CCM, the Spanish acronym for Missionary Training Center. It is a three story L-shaped building in Guatemala City, on a busy road, a thoroughfare named Vista Hermosa. Members of the church here joke the road is named so because the temple is on the street. It’s a gas station and an optometrist shop away from us, and oh, is it beautiful. We get to go in a couple weeks, when it gets done being closed for cleaning. 

Because there are a record number of missionaries in the CCM right now, the thirteen American girls who are here for 6 weeks to learn the language (instead of 2 weeks like the native speakers) live a couple blocks away in temple visitor housing. We say good morning to the security guards along the way when we walk to the CCM in the mornings, and it’s totally fine, so Grandma and Grandma types, please dear goodness don’t worry. It has vaulted ceilings and Spanish gates and is beautiful. We get to walk to the CCM in the morning and are driven back (all of us giggling in one big van) at night for safety.

WHAT WE DO

Every day we get up at 6:30, come to the CCM for deportes (exercise time - they have a bunch of exercise machines and two half-court basketball courts behind the building), go back to our casa and shower, come to class for a personal scripture study, have breakfast, study some more, study Spanish for a while, do Spanish computer programs to help us learn, have lunch, have lessons from our fantastic and amazing teacher, attend various meetings and trainings and do activities, have dinner, and prepare for and practice teaching our fake investigator, who is pretending to be real but we're pretty sure actually works at the CCM. He drives a red Mustang and his name is Erick.

THE PEOPLE

I go to class with five other people, all from the United States. That was kind of a disappointment, because I thought I’d be forced to be speaking Spanish with natives right away, but it’s good to be able to help the people in my class who are learning. There are four girls and two boys, and almost everyone who is American here is from Utah, though I have found people from Virginia and Michigan. They are such sweet spirits, with colorful life stories, and are really good examples to me. One knows Spanish as well or better than me, so we have fun. On Sundays, we do companion exchanges, where all of us from the US are companions with someone from Central America. I was in a trio with two girls from Guatemala on Sunday and LOVED it.

FUN THINGS

The food is delicious. We have traditional dishes as well as things like chicken parmesan and Salisbury steak. We can basically have ice cream whenever we want. (So much for getting skinny here!) Also I have tried a kind of cake called magdelana and it is my new peanut butter and jelly. But the best part is the cooks. They’re not Mormon and they’re all super nice and funny. One carves a different food sculpture every few days! The last one was a swan made out of a watermelon - so cool.

I am working on rolling my r's, (practicing for six minutes every night!), finding it weird to go by my last name, in love with Latin America and Spanish, and very, very happy. The first full day, I taught a few Latina girls how to do Indian runs, and we had quite the time of it.

I would LOVEEEEE some letters! Apparently the print Dear Elders out here, so you should do that -lots. Gracias. :)

Ah, there is so much to say, but so little time! I love you guys, I love this place, and I hope you all are doing well. Prayers and abrazos, from me to you.


SPIRITUAL THOUGHT

Sometimes I think we need to package the gospel up into this nice little package with a bow and cute wrapping and wait for just the right day to present it to people.

As missionaries, we do learn how to teach in the best way possible and practice being diplomatic and tactful when we share this message of great importance. But that doesn’t make the gospel anymore true. Does that make sense?

Sometimes, I've wondered, if the church is as true as I know it is, how come everybody doesn't see that? If the church is so true, why aren't people flocking to it? Elder Jeffrey R. Holland, of the Quorum of the 12 Apostles, addressed that question in a video we watched this week about the Atonement of Jesus Christ.

Holland said: “This work has to be hard. It has to be hard because it was hard for Jesus Christ. Because salvation is not a cheap experience, nor a cheap reward.”

There are so many distractions in the world - so many. It’s only been since I’ve been in the MTC that I've really understood how misuse of cell phones and TV and internet time and things can really distract us from seeing what’s right in front of our faces. From watching the sunset. From feeling centered. From being happy where we are. I’m not saying AT ALL that these things are bad - just that there is some benefit to living the missionary lifestyle for a little bit, and I’m seeing it now.

But I've strayed from my point. Sometimes people have so much going on in their lives that it’s hard for them to see the value in the gospel. But people trying to be missionaries shouldn’t ever try to mold the gospel to fit in people’s lives. We can be delicate when we teach, but we should never diminish the gospel or try to package it in some form that we think will make it more appetizing. It is the gospel of Jesus Christ.

It is what it is. And we are lucky to know it.

There is so much truth in that scripture “stand still and know that I am God.” He is. And he loves us so much.