We ran out of money so we made baleadas. Cheap and delicious! Get ready, America, because I'm bringing these babies home with me!
I live on a mountain, surrounded by mountains! It's awesome!
It's been a fun and full week of hill climbing and gospel teaching here in Copan Ruinas! It's really sweet when people decide to miss lessons here, because our investigators live a lot further apart and people don't just hang out infront of their houses waiting to talk to us like they did in Campana, so changing plans takes a lot longer, but it's chill! The Lord's work is getting done! And somebody actually came to church this week, so that was a blessing. It's just pretty funny to contemplate how big of a deal one person coming to church is when, upon asking Hra Harmon how many people came to church in Campana the otherSunday, she said "Oh, it was raining, so we only had 13". But hey, the worth of every single, solitary soul is great in the eyes of God. GREAT. I'm glad that I have a better opportunity to appreciate the one, because I'm not sure how well I learned that in the land Bountiful (or, in other words, Campana).
We got to take another long bus adventure on Tuesday to attend our district meeting in La Florida (which is not pronounced like a US state, so as you read this mentally, go back and correct yourself. I have to do that every time) We arrived early enough to take the right bus this time, which was cool. But I couldn't fall asleep on the morning bus, and you have to fall asleep on the morning bus, because falling asleep on the afternoon bus is not an option. Allow me to explain: There are great big coach buses, that are like paradise and are only available at7:00 because they run all the way from Copan Ruinas to San Pedro Sula. Then there are normal sized buses. And then there are little buses, which are basically vans. And the people who run them will cram every body they can onto these buses. It's like playing tetrus, but with people. So as we were cramming into one of these little bus/van contraptions for the 1.5 hour trip back to las Ruinas (bad luck on our part) and as I'm contemplating where I am going to squeeze myself in, a slightly creepy Honduran man pats the eight-ish inches of seat next to him as if to say, Come hither. And I'm like, No. Gross. But he hops out and explains, you can have the larger part of the seat. I'll squeeze into the eight inches. And then the cobrador (not the guy who drives the bus, but the guy who shoves customers in) starts shoving me into the bus, so I got in. And those eight inches were looking pretty small. Elder Wing, who was sitting behind me, says "So, now he's going to sit on your lap." Luckily, he didn't. But the tiredness from not sleeping on the morning bus kicked in after the first half hour of the trip, and because this guy was way inside my personal space, when my head drooped down in sleepiness, it drooped right onto his shoulder. Awkward. And within the first milisecond of contact with a male, my sister missionary instincts kicked in enough to wake me up and jerk my head of off the still slightly creepy Honduran man, but then I'd start drifting off again and the whole process would repeat. It was kind of like I was playing Whack-a-mole on this guy's shoulder and my face was the mallot. Whoops. But eventually a few people started unloading and I got my personal space back, so that was nice. Life lesson: sleep on the morning bus. I don't know how applicable that is to anyone reading this letter, but if you find yourself feeling tired on a 7am bus in Honduras, you might as well sleep.
We've been trying various tactics (started typing varios maneras, but then I remembered I was writting this letter in English) to create some excitement about the branch. We can't have branch activities in the church building, because nobody comes, so we have them in member's houses instead. This week we had one FHE, one Noche de Hermanamiento (which would be night of fellowshipping...I think) and one Noche de Traje, which involved bringing a little gift and exchanging it with someone else. We had that for Valentine's day. And Hra Cumatz and I (upon arriving very late and very stressed out but with one investigator in tow, so it was worth it) ended up quite embarrassed because we were almost the only ones who followed the branch president's guidelines that the gift should be something like a piece of fruit or chocolate. People put a lot of effort into gift giving here. We both handed over our meager presents with the promise to bring something better another day (which I made good on, so it's chill). But we couldn't have done much better than we did, because we were really out of money. Hra. Cumatz got pretty set back from going to San Pedro and back (that's super expensive) and she ran out a long time before I did, but then I got pretty set back paying for double the groceries. There was definitely a day that I left the house inAnd Happy late Valentine's Day, too! What a festive week we are passing! They do celebrate Valentine's day here in Honduras. It's called Día de Cariño. Hra Cumatz and I made heart shaped pancakes--it was pretty sweet. (note: I just had to ponder that spelling of pancakes for about 3 minutes because we never use the letter K in Spanish, so using it now is super weird. Fun fact.)
It's been a fun and full week of hill climbing and gospel teaching here in Copan Ruinas! It's really sweet when people decide to miss lessons here, because our investigators live a lot further apart and people don't just hang out infront of their houses waiting to talk to us like they did in Campana, so changing plans takes a lot longer, but it's chill! The Lord's work is getting done! And somebody actually came to church this week, so that was a blessing. It's just pretty funny to contemplate how big of a deal one person coming to church is when, upon asking Hra Harmon how many people came to church in Campana the other Sunday, she said "Oh, it was raining, so we only had 13". But hey, the worth of every single, solitary soul is great in the eyes of God. GREAT. I'm glad that I have a better opportunity to appreciate the one, because I'm not sure how well I learned that in the land Bountiful (or, in other words, Campana).
We got to take another long bus adventure on Tuesday to attend our district meeting in La Florida (which is not pronounced like a US state, so as you read this mentally, go back and correct yourself. I have to do that every time) We arrived early enough to take the right bus this time, which was cool. But I couldn't fall asleep on the morning bus, and you have to fall asleep on the morning bus, because falling asleep on the afternoon bus is not an option. Allow me to explain: There are great big coach buses, that are like paradise and are only available at 7:00 because they run all the way from Copan Ruinas to San Pedro Sula. Then there are normal sized buses. And then there are little buses, which are basically vans. And the people who run them will cram every body they can onto these buses. It's like playing tetrus, but with people. So as we were cramming into one of these little bus/van contraptions for the 1.5 hour trip back to las Ruinas (bad luck on our part) and as I'm contemplating where I am going to squeeze myself in, a slightly creepy Honduran man pats the eight-ish inches of seat next to him as if to say, Come hither. And I'm like, No. Gross. But he hops out and explains, you can have the larger part of the seat. I'll squeeze into the eight inches. And then the cobrador (not the guy who drives the bus, but the guy who shoves customers in) starts shoving me into the bus, so I got in. And those eight inches were looking pretty small. Elder Wing, who was sitting behind me, says "So, now he's going to sit on your lap." Luckily, he didn't. But the tiredness from not sleeping on the morning bus kicked in after the first half hour of the trip, and because this guy was way inside my personal space, when my head drooped down in sleepiness, it drooped right onto his shoulder. Awkward. And within the first milisecond of contact with a male, my sister missionary instincts kicked in enough to wake me up and jerk my head of off the still slightly creepy Honduran man, but then I'd start drifting off again and the whole process would repeat. It was kind of like I was playing Whack-a-mole on this guy's shoulder and my face was the mallot. Whoops. But eventually a few people started unloading and I got my personal space back, so that was nice. Life lesson: sleep on the morning bus. I don't know how applicable that is to anyone reading this letter, but if you find yourself feeling tired on a 7am bus in Honduras, you might as well sleep.
We've been trying various tactics (started typing varios maneras, but then I remembered I was writting this letter in English) to create some excitement about the branch. We can't have branch activities in the church building, because nobody comes, so we have them in member's houses instead. This week we had one FHE, one Noche de Hermanamiento (which would be night of fellowshipping...I think) and one Noche de Traje, which involved bringing a little gift and exchanging it with someone else. We had that for Valentine's day. And Hra Cumatz and I (upon arriving very late and very stressed out but with one investigator in tow, so it was worth it) ended up quite embarrassed because we were almost the only ones who followed the branch president's guidelines that the gift should be something like a piece of fruit or chocolate. People put a lot of effort into gift giving here. We both handed over our meager presents with the promise to bring something better another day (which I made good on, so it's chill). But we couldn't have done much better than we did, because we were really out of money. Hra. Cumatz got pretty set back from going to San Pedro and back (that's super expensive) and she ran out a long time before I did, but then I got pretty set back paying for double the groceries. There was definitely a day that I left the house in the morning with the equivalent of 50 cents to my name. But the money came in (yay!) and we are no longer desitute, so don't worry about us. We're fine. We had to be very creative eaters this week, but we're fine.
It's a very different gear here in Copan, but it is still the work of the Lord and I still love it. The people here are wonderful, even when they trash talk Mormons (happens) and close the door in our faces and don't reopen it (definitely happened). Or when they station their kids in the street to warn the family that we are coming so everyone can hide. That's my favorite. But I am so glad to be a missionary and to be serving here. I love my Heavenly Father and I love this labor He has given me. It's been a lovely week in the vineyard! I am so psyched to have so many more to look forward to.
Oh! And here's a life note. We had this family in church yesterday from the States (weird!) The father works in the US Embassy in Guatemala, and so they just came over for the weekend. They were really wonderful to talk to, their nine year old daughter was a joy to have in my primary class (which was slightly less insane but still needs work) and they were kind enough to give us actual American candy to buoey (I don't know how to spell that any more) up our spirits. So, when you are on vacation, go to all three hours of church, because all of them are important, and especially if you are in a foreign country, give the missionaries some love. We all know they need is. Thank you, Barney family.
I hope you all have a wonderful week! ¡Que le vaya bien!
Love, Hermana Pickett the morning with the equivalent of 50 cents to my name. But the money came in (yay!) and we are no longer desitute, so don't worry about us. We're fine. We had to be very creative eaters this week, but we're fine.
It's a very different gear here in Copan, but it is still the work of the Lord and I still love it. The people here are wonderful, even when they trash talk Mormons (happens) and close the door in our faces and don't reopen it (definitely happened). Or when they station their kids in the street to warn the family that we are coming so everyone can hide. That's my favorite. But I am so glad to be a missionary and to be serving here. I love my Heavenly Father and I love this labor He has given me. It's been a lovely week in the vineyard! I am so psyched to have so many more to look forward to.
Oh! And here's a life note. We had this family in church yesterday from the States (weird!) The father works in the US Embassy in Guatemala, and so they just came over for the weekend. They were really wonderful to talk to, their nine year old daughter was a joy to have in my primary class (which was slightly less insane but still needs work) and they were kind enough to give us actual American candy to buoey (I don't know how to spell that any more) up our spirits. So, when you are on vacation, go to all three hours of church, because all of them are important, and especially if you are in a foreign country, give the missionaries some love. We all know they need is. Thank you, Barney family.
I hope you all have a wonderful week! ¡Que le vaya bien!
Love, Hermana Pickett
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