It has been a rough six weeks, with a whole lot of exciting and terrible moments to go along with it, but this week probably tops the cake with some of the strangest moments of my mission. As we felt the end coming along, we desperately tried to fit in as much work as possible with the bum leg of Elder Flores. We passed by less actives like it was no one's business, we contacted in the street almost desperately, and we resorted to the lunatic fringe for creative ideas to try to find new investigators.
Oh, and Germany won the World Cup, so I was happy. I might have had my Germany jersey (Thanks Ben. You're a stud.) on underneath my white shirt and tie for the majority of the week. I happily paraded the fact that I lived in Germany for eight years to the soccer fanatics we encountered (And the fact that I was a small child for most of that time remained completely ignored).
I mentioned the lunatic fringe earlier, and I would like to divulge a bit more into that. Elder Flores, after being trapped in the house for so long, and driven to uncomfortable extremes by the female doctors that daily massage his battered leg (With electricity. Its hilarious.), has decided to stretch his creative muscles and come up with interesting ideas to find. The first involved large cardboard costumes of the Book of Mormon and the Holy Bible. Taking these large and eye catching covers around town, we used them as visual aides, trying to entice people to wanting to know more. Needless to say, we had a lot more photos than solid contacts, but we had a great time. Hopefully the many hours we put into those books (Exquisite gold letters are a pain in the hindquarters to cut.) we be in good use in the future.
A bit more loco than the previous idea was something called the Pobre Forastero (Or Poor Wayfaring Man), conveiniently placed with the Ward Sandwhich night, a yearly tradition here in Santa Sabina. As the idea goes, a missionary dresses up as a vagabond or hobo, and is placed close enough for the members who are enjoying their activity to feel uncomfortable and want to unfortunate man to leave. This unpleasent individual is eventually rejected, but returns as the group sings the closing hymn of A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief. All of the members suddenly feel the weight of their judgemental consciences, and tears are shed. As it was, I had the joy of being the hobo, made all the better by a rasta cap with long dreadlocks and an unhealthy amount of shoe polish on my face to imitate a tan and beard. It was at first effective, as I looked like I had passed out in front of the entrance.
Almost immediately, the bishop came by and asked if I needed any help, at which point he noticed my still blue eyes and exclaimed ''Elder! What are you doing here?'' He left to go talk to the other Elders, and I changed my position to be a bit more inconspicuous. After a few little children passed by, making disparaging remarks and throwing rocks (Thanks Elder Flores, for that one), the first counselor came out and with a very serious voice, told me to get on my way. With his hand on his cell and with that tone of voice, I staggered my way out of the parking lot. The other Elders took their time in getting back to me, so I had a good amount of thinking before we reunited.
It was a good idea, but poor in practice. The large amount of children in the activity surely limited how we should developed the actual idea, and so the planning was a little spotty. As I came into the building a bit later with regular clothes (But still an unearthly amount of shoe polish on my face. That, also, thanks to Elder Flores), the Bishop and the few who knew had a great laugh about it. The first counselor also had a hilarious moment of dawning comprehension, as he realized that the poor drunk he booted out was actually the new gringo. It's definitely an idea with merit, but needs a good amount of planning and leadership involvement.
It has been a very interesting time, these last few weeks, but I have enjoyed them immensely once I found the secret of working without worrying. Sometimes things just don't work out how you would like, but life can still be very, very enjoyable.
Yes, even for a drunk german missionary in Chile.
I'm very, very excited for the near future. I hear good things about my new companion, and his Colombian citizenship should provide for a new view on the world that I haven't had the pleasure of seeing. Life is good, and it has the potential to get so so much better.
Let's get ready to rumble, Santa Sabina!
Love,
Elder Richardson
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