Week 2

Here is some of Diana's email from this week.

Hello everyone!

 

Thank you so much for the letters, packages, and support! I miss the family so much and I pray for everyone every night.

 

There is so much to say, I don't know where to start. Life is just so, so good here, at the MTC. It feels a lot like being in a religious private school away from home. I definitely have an advantage in that sense because I love school. Even though my Chinese is so limited, I am excited to learn more every day. I read my grammar book while I use the stationary bikes during gym time. I think SYL (speak your language--when we are only supposed to talk in Chinese from when we wake up to lunch time), is pretty fun, even though I'm really bad at it. Seriously, don't assume just because I enjoy learning Mandarin that I'm becoming competent at it... It is coming very slowly. And surprisingly, even the religious education here is fairly intellectually stimulating. Everything we are taught to do as teachers is supposed to focus on our investigator's needs. The Preach My Gospel fundamental, "Teach People, not Lessons" is drilled into our heads every day. I love it, because it means every time we open the scriptures or teach a lesson it is something different. Or at least, that's the way I see it. I think every missionary definitely gets something different out of their experience here, depending on what they bring to it. Probably not everyone sees it the way I do. 

 

The most suprising thing about life here is how much fun it is. I am not even kidding. My companion and I are roommates with and live next door to several other mandarin-speaking sisters, and they are becoming some of my best friends! Every night from when we get out of class to when we are supposed to be in bed, and often long after that, we are laughing nonstop, telling stories about our day and speaking really bad Chinese to each other. Last night Sister Newman ran into our room and said, "I need help!" She opened a box of six gourmet cupcakes from the Cocoa Bean Cupcake Cafe, that someone had sent her. We all sat in a circle to eat them--we would take a bite of one and then pass it around. It was so light-hearted and memorable. A couple of the sisters are the type who laugh hysterically at nearly everything--they kind of remind me of Mary, and it is so cute.

 

The elders in my district are also hilarious. (My district is the people who I go to class with--there are nine of us, total.) I wish I could turn them into garden gnomes, take them home, and set them free in the backyard so I can watch them interact from the deck. There is something so sweet and precious about a diversity of personalities having to work together. I love all of them so much, from sleepy Elder Cottle who naps during class and always has a candy bar in hand, to the soft-spoken, insightful Elder Laboulaye who gently nudges Elder Cottle awake, to Elder Lindley who is really smart but ironically has a thick valley-girl accent, to Elder Kattleman who  bonds with me over our common resistance to authority. (Although the way authority trickles its way down to us is so different than how I thought it would be--more on that later.)

 

The monotony of the food here is slowly creeping up on me. I've started only eating real foods, untouched by cafeteria worker hands. Like raisen bran and peanut butter and banana sandwiches. A few days ago after several long hours of class time, I wandered around the cafeteria for a few minutes only to discover that frosted flakes was all that appealed to me. Even the wraps have started to lose their savor, especially since they stopped offering feta cheese.... (They rotate ingredients.) And I have barely been here for two weeks. Today was the first time that I had a 3rd-hour-cannon-center-visit moment, in which the only thing I could think to do with the remains of my  chicken pablano soup, salad, and dinner roll was mix them all together and imagine them being slopped into a pigs' pen like on Charlotte's Webb.

 

I definitely have to get going. I am ten minutes overtime on my letter. But thank you so much for all the love you all have shown to me. It means so much. If you are really concerned about me, and want to help me, the best thing you can do is take care of yourselves. My worries for the people I love at home are the most pressing ones, these days. I have been trying to write most of you personal mail in addition to this, where hopefully I can be more helpful.