¡Estoy Argentinizando! (in Pellegrini)

(There were scheduling problems all over the place yesterday, so my companion the zone leader is giving me time today, too. Thus, my message is a day late. I'm not dead.)

Friends and family,

That verb, "argentinizar", is a local word that means "to Argentinize", just like "Americanize" in our vocabulary. I never thought of that before, and I think it's really funny. But anyway, I have to mention again the ongoing miracle in my life of my surprising ability to speak and understand Spanish; what I have accomplished is so incredibly far beyond my natural ability, and I cannot attribute it to anything but a Higher power. However, I am definitely still dealing with culture shock, and the severity varies daily. On the best days, I feel like I can understand and speak anything I want, and that Spanish is as natural as English; on the worst days, I feel an actual mental pain at every single Spanish word I hear or speak; but it is all slowly passing. I'll try to be patient with that; I'm obviously not giving up in any way. And guys, the people here speak so fast it sometimes feels like I'm in a society filled entirely with Jacob Hill, but Spanish; I hope that gives y'all more accurate imagery of how it feels.

But hey, I had a scary realization this week: I am already a tenth of the way done with my mission. This has been a painful couple of months, but somehow it has all gone by in the blink of an eye, and it reminds me of the fact that two years, believe it or not, REALLY is not that long. A little over a hundred weeks, and I'm already starting my eleventh. I'll try to get my head in the game, because I get the feeling that my growing isn't anywhere close to finished. I'll buckle up, because it'll be a fast, rough ride.

Now, one more challenge I've dealt with recently: the music rule. The Missionary Handbook only states that the music should not drive away the Spirit, and I selected the music I brought accordingly; but now I'm here, and it turns out that the interpretation of that rule by the Mission President (and, therefore, the law for our mission) is that, except on P-day (I'll take that small victory), we can only listen to hymns by the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, other peaceful arrangements of hymns, and similarly peaceful instrumental music. That made me angry for a while, because, frankly, it seems like the interpretation of a zealot; that's how I felt. I decided to do the right thing and ask the Higher authority what He thought, and I got an interesting answer, almost immediately: the hymns have been ordained for use in the building of Zion. While the other songs I have are good songs that bring the Spirit, I realized clearly that they are not meant for this work, and thus do not bring the right Spirit. I have already felt it with a couple of the songs that used to bring the Spirit before: when I break that rule, it doesn't bring the Spirit anymore, because they are not meant to be played here. Seriously, there are still parts of my mind that are trying to start open warfare against that rule, because music is such an enormously gargantuan part of my life, but I have felt peace for choosing obedience. I still hate it, but I can see happiness in the future if I obey it now, so I'll do my best. It's a weird feeling. But obedience brings blessings, and exact obedience brings miracles, right? I can already feel that that's exactly right. It reminds me of what someone said in Mission Prep class before I left, that he had been scared to pray to know if he should serve a mission because he already knew what the answer would be; likewise, I already knew what the answer would be, and it was definitely the answer the kids in the Primary classes would have given: obey. Always.

Now for a couple of milagros. Elder Avila felt on Tuesday that he should call his family again for a reason he didn't know (not a selfish reason), but he asked me what I thought. I felt it was wrong, so I replied with a negative. He nodded, and we moved on. We went to a lesson, etc., and then returned to the capilla about two hours afterwards; he said he still felt like he should call them, but still didn't know why. He called them and discovered something: even in that small timeframe, his mother had had a fall and resulting ankle problem while running, and was in the hospital to care for it. That was astonishing, because I had felt a bit abnormally strongly that it wasn't right before, but the second time it felt good; and if he had called the first time, he would never have known about the accident. I won't even try to go into what would have happened had he actually called earlier, because I obviously can't know. I'll take it for what it is - a miracle. A small one, yes, but a miracle is a miracle, and miracles are impossible.

Second milagro. We were searching for the house of a member who had not been to church in a long time, and the search took us to a dirt path branching off the main road, lined with multiple tiny adobe shacks, all inhabited. They were basically the poorest abodes I have ever seen personally, but it was impressive that they seemed like normal families, just living their lives happily. It was humbling. But the member didn't answer the door, so we walked back. We talked with a woman who lived along the way about the Gospel, but she turned us away after a lengthy discussion about why she is angry with God for abandoning her, and that the purpose of life is to suffer, etc., etc. We tried to help, but she turned us down; so we just went to the next house and asked if we could share something, and we were greeted with the very common, "soy católica", but we were eventually allowed in, regardless. We answered some questions they had about the purpose of life by teaching about the Plan of Salvation, and bit by bit the woman who greeted us opened up. She never said anything, spécifically, but I saw it in her face that she believed what we were saying; and when we gave her a pamphlet of the Plan, she took it, gazed at it reverently for a moment, and put it caringly back on the table. That was so simple, but so powerful; it was the first time I have seen the Gospel actively touch someone's life in my presence. It reminded me of why I am here, and why I am loving this work, even if it hurts like the dickens right now. I'm here because this is true, and I'm here because it has become the resonant frequency of my soul, amplifying itself by its own power in my life, and it is more beautiful, perfect, and powerful than anything I could ever have imagined by myself.

Now, a thought about the Gift of Tongues that I have so often mentioned: it is not just for missionaries. None of the gifts of the Spirit are only for missionaries. They are promised to all of the disciples of Jesus Christ that earnestly seek to follow Him, and we are even promised that we can develop more, if we seek after them diligently, with real intent to share those gifts with others as Christ did in His life here. We can all be such unimaginably beautiful instruments in His hands, and we can all be so powerful, if we just follow Him. I really don't have any more time, but this testimony suffices me: all true disciples of the Redeemer have His power, not even only to those who hold the Priesthood; all of us can have the power to do all things He did through faith and through the gifts of the Spirit, which are given to those who actively seek Him. But be sure to ask God for them in faith, nothing wavering, for he that wavereth is as a wave of the sea, driven with the wind and tossed (James 1:6).

Con amor abundante,

Elder Hill

Fotos:

• Hamburguesas reales (con horrible calidad de foto, sé)
• Yo, andando en bici
• En bici otra vez
• La calle Diagonal Pellegrini
• Los Élderes de Pellegrini, y los misioneros futuros de Pellegrini
• Tomando mate
• Un tenedor muy rudo

You Are the Moon (in Pellegrini)

Greetings, gringos!

I wanted to mention something I heard in the devotional with Elder Renlund that I thought was funny (also, pictures from that event are attached, finally). Sister Renlund said that during her mission she wouldn't give the men the time of day. Then she corrected herself and said she would give them the time of day, but not a date. I thought it was hilarious.

Anyway, there is not much to say about this week, because we were traveling back from San Rafael and then for the rest of the days we were mostly just cleaning the area book, which took huge heaping loads of time. And yet, even so, we have so little time that it's almost hilarious to me. Oh, but one interesting thing happened this week: we knocked on a door and waited for a long time, then when someone finally came out it was an old, big man, one eye a milky white (in short, very imposing), who came out in a rage and yelled at us to leave because we were "Mormones" (even though we're not), and there was only one God. Elder Avila started saying, "Sí, hay solo uno Dios, y Él vive," but he would have none of that, and he looked like he was about to hit him. We left, thanking him for his time (to which he spat, obviously), but overall it was a great experience. Honestly, I'm not disheartened by that. One thing I've come to know very powerfully is that, if there really is a God of justice in this universe, everything will be dealt with in perfect rectitude, eventually; thus, I need not worry about anything that anyone else does wrong, because everything will be paid back exactly, every last penny of every debt, in one way or another. I have come to take a lot of comfort in that.

I've found two things now that I like in the Gospel better in Spanish than in English. The first is that we can be cleansed from sin through the Atonement of Christ; in Spanish, it says, "podemos ser limpios...", and that is so much more powerful than the English, because "ser" refers to the nature of things, and thus we aren't just becoming clean temporarily, we are becoming clean, accepting cleanliness into our nature. The other thing I like is what it says in Moroni 10:5, that we can know the truth of all things. In Spanish, that verse says "podréis conocer la verdad de todas las cosas", and "conocer" means "to know", but in a more familiar way, like you know a person, or know a map. Thus, the meaning of that verse is not that we can just know the facts of truth, it's a promise that we can know the truth inside and out, like a friend. I like those so much more than the ambiguity of English.

I want to end my short letter with a song. It's called "You Are the Moon" by The Hush Sound, and it talks about how beautiful people really are, though they don't see it. It starts with the Moon rising from the horizon and seeing its reflection on the ocean, broken and scattered by waves. It says: "All the light that you possess is skewed by lakes and seas; the shattered surface, so imperfect, is all that you believe. I will bring a mirror so silver, so exact, so precise and so pristine, a perfect pane of glass. I will set the mirror up to face the blackened sky; you will see your beauty every moment that you rise." And thus it concludes. I just want to remind you all that God is trying to show you all how beautiful you are by showing you our Brother, Jesus Christ, as an example of what we are. If we really are children of God, en serio, then we are so much more beautiful than we can even comprehend. This is my witness to you all today, and I mean it with all my heart.

Thank you all for your support to me in the forms of letters, encouragement, kindness, etc.; it means the world, especially now that I'm on the other side of the world. Dios esté con ustedes.

Con amor de Argentina,

Elder Hill

Fotos:

Élder Prosser (un asistente del Presidente) y yo

(de izquierda a derecha) Yo, Élder Thornton, Élder Vazquez, Élder Kummer, en San Rafael

Este hielo es muy interesante

I will give unto you success (first full week in Pellegrini)

Friends, Romans, Countrymen,

This week has been insane. After we got back to Pellegrini from Mitre (which is where I was in San Rafael), we had a few days of normal work, which was basically the first "normal work" I've had because my companion is so incredibly busy, being the district and zone leader. And because of those callings, we're actually back in San Rafael today, too, in Balloffet. And now, because of all my time in the sunshine, I have developed a sunburn that outlines my glasses, which is weird because the sunlight streams down from above, but apparently the Sun doesn't care about geometry, so that's cool.

By the way, I forgot to mention last week that I encountered an Hermana Caldwell from Gilbert, who is currently in Tunuyán. I don't remember exactly who the Caldwells are, but I recognize the name, so I wanted to mention her. Oh, and there's also an Arizona here in Mendoza! I think it's somewhere near the eastern border of the province, but I don't remember.

And now for a brief section of puns. Firstly, I saw the movie Inside Out sitting on a desk today, and in Spanish it's called Intensa Mente, which is so funny to me because it means "Intense Mind", but "Intensamente" means "intensely", too. Then there's the fact that, by definition, everything I say is a blessing. The word for "blessing" is "bendición", which comes from "ben", meaning good, and "dición", which is from "decir", which means "to say". Thus, I am good by definition, and furthermore everything I say is a Bendición. Boom. There's also a funny pair of verbs that I want to mention: "casar" and "cazar". The first means "to marry", which is actually related to the word "casa", which means home; the latter means "to hunt". When I asked my maestros at the CCM about it, they jokingly said there was no difference. Yeah, I can definitely see that. Then there's also the fact that every tie I have is from one specific country, by some weird chance... They're from Tieland.

And I'm a dork.

Now for more details of my week. Basically, there's not much to say. We have given a handful of short lessons to various member families and one less-active family, but we don't have any new investigators except for the less-active family. That's wonderful, but it's not very exciting to say. We also discovered this week that our area of Pellegrini, which we had not had a map for until we printed one out ourselves this week, covers somewhere around 600-800 square kilometers, and also includes the cities of Bowen and Caramensa, which are 13 and 17 km away, respectively. Ouch. But hey, at least I'm working.

Now for the defining occurrence of the week: pride. Again. This whole week I've been feeling like my spirit was burning, kind of like friction; something was bothering me immensely, and I couldn't figure out what it was. It was really hurting after a couple of days, and I was praying to know what the problem was. Then one morning it came to me right after we left the pensión to go contacting: pride pride pride pride pride pride pride. I had thought before that I was humble enough to see my own pride and how far I needed to go, but apparently I was blind again. The problem was that I was trying to do this work my way, not His. I don't know how I never saw that before, but one way or another I see it now. The main problem, as far as I can tell, was that I was trying to make my daily schedule bend around me so I could study the things I wanted to study, like Jesus the Christ, the book of Abraham, awesome and sciency sections of the book of Doctrine and Covenants, etc. But it has finally worked its way into my heart that I can't do that any more; those are not bad things, but I now have something critically more important than they. This is the work of Salvation, and I was somehow trying to do God's plan my way; that obviously doesn't work. Thus, I still have such a long way to go in developing myself, and I hope I can always be teachable enough to be able to feel the rightness of such promptings and growths.

Another thing that is really interesting is that a part of my mind has still not accepted that other countries and languages and cultures exist. At times, I grow irritated because some irrational part of my subconscious can't accept that people actually speak other languages, and it all feels like some kind of enormous conspiracy or prank. Obviously, I don't really think that, but I don't think my subconscious fully believes that I'm not at home any more. That's a weird feeling.

Now, on a lighter note, I want to share the scripture that I referenced in the title, which has helped me be happier today: Alma 26:27. "Now when our hearts were depressed, and we were about to turn back, behold, the Lord comforted us, and said: Go amongst thy brethren, the Lamanites, and bear with patience thine afflictions, and I will give unto you success." There you go. Pure light in my soul. A promise of success.

I also want to say that I AM SO RIDICULOUSLY HAPPY THAT I HAVE A NEW NIECE. There are not powerful enough superlatives in English to express how happy I am that Olivia is here now. I already love her, and I've never even met her. Thank you so much for telling me about her nacimiento. Shirley, please let her know that I'm sending her all the love I can muster from this far away.

Guys, this mission is rough. I'm a gringo in the middle of Argentina, and I can't understand what anybody says, so my decent ability to speak is almost pointless right now. But I have never grown so much. I can't possibly imagine any way I could ever grow more efficiently than I am now, because I absolutely have to turn outside myself for help, because for the first time in my life I don't have the answers I need within myself. I really was pampered back home, what with everyone speaking the same language I spoke, and all. And speaking of the language, I have also found that my faith is severely lacking in the gift of interpretation of tongues by the Spirit, and I have realized that that is the reason I can't understand. I have seen miracles in how well I can speak, and I have seen the same in understanding, but the latter are in passing, like God is showing me what I can do if I trust more in Him. But I'm working on it, and I'm trying to step off that ledge of doubt.

I love the words of the song "Long Long Journey" by Enya, especially now, when the mission seems to me some looming, extremely long doom ahead of me. "Long, long journey through the darkness; long, long way to go. But what are miles across the ocean to the heart that's coming home?" I feel like I'm finally coming home to myself, and it took me moving to the other side of the world to do it. And besides that, two years will seriously pass is the blink of an eye, and I can even see that now; I have already completed nearly two months of my mission, and that's a twelfth! I'll be home before any of us know it. And, at this rate, what with my confused subconscious, perhaps I won't even realize I ever left. Now, THAT would be weird.

"Half a world away, with dirt on my shoes, the shadows find me there and bring the rain, and they leave my soul bruised. Broken and alone, heaven clouds over, and from behind I hear a song that reminds me of [Home]: I'll carry your burden, son, and take away all your fears. When you look up and see the light, you know I'll be here. When your knees can't hold you up, and your heart drowns in tears, then you'll look up and see the light; you know I'll be right here." - "The Woman Who Holds the World" by Our Future Selves (lyrics by Robert Hill).

Photos:

279: Hermanas en mi CCM distrito

310: Avion en nuestro viaje a Mendoza

327: Cerro de Gloria in Mendoza, my first day there

330: También

337: Yo y Élder Avila

340: Con la wacha

361: Mi pensión

365: Para que sepa, Madre, si quieres saber

366: Pensión otra vez

383: Jugando fútbol hoy

Bienvenidos a Argentina, freaking GRINGO! (First few days in Argentina)

Friends, Romans, Countrymen,

By the way, I discovered that some Spanish-speakers actually do use the word "freaking", my companion being among them. I find that really funny.

This past week has been a complete mess. I took flights from Mexico to Lima, then to Buenos Aires, then to Mendoza, and I had such a headache after all that. It was a total of 27 hours en route, with about 13 of those hours being physically in the air. With no sleep. That was really rough. But we arrived and had dinner with President Panzacchi and his wife, then slept in a hotel for the night. The next day was orientation and we received our companions. My companion is Elder Avila; he's from ECUADOR, Dad! He also talks naturally slowly, so I can understand him all the time except when he uses words I don't know, which is getting rarer, now. We spent the night with the missionaries who work in the mission offices. I slept with a pillow that someone put a shirt on as a pillowcase. The other elderes called it a wacha, which is slang for an illegitimately-born girl (from what I'm told). So, uh... yeah.

Anyway, the next morning, we departed in the morning on a colectivo (which is the local word for "autobus", which in English is exactly what it looks like) for a couple of hours. We stopped in Tunuyàn for a few hours, then proceeded on to Pellegrini, which is my new area in a city called Alvear. So it took the entirety of four days for me to get to my area from Mexico. That was WAY longer than I had expected. But I'm here now, so I'm okay. (Well, I'm not there right now, but I'll get to that.)

Elder Avila is a wonderful trainer! He is so energetic en la obra misional, and I am learning a lot from him. Especially the fact that he speaks no significant amount of English helps me, because it has made my ability to communicate explode so much faster than it did at the CCM. Seriously, now that I'm in the real world, I truly believe that the Mexico CCM is not Mexico, but instead just a section of the US that happens to be in the middle of Mexico City. We were babied. Perhaps that's what we needed, but it was still nothing like Pellegrini. Elder Avila has been a great help, and I'm so glad I have him as my companion.

As for the area, our section of Alvear is mostly more rural, but there are more city-like areas in the central parts of the city. Surrounding our pensiòn (which is our apartment) are more rural parts, with dirt roads and very small, spread-out houses. Neither of us had ever been in Pellegrini before, so basically all of our time thus far has been spent getting to know the area, which is difficult because it's really big and we have no map. And the capilla (sorry, chapel) is about fifteen minutes away by car. Which we don't have. And I still don't know the way, anyway. We also don't know the addresses of any members, and wouldn't be able to find them if we DID have the addresses. It's very frustrating. We live right behind the house of the branch president, but he doesn't have a map, either. This will be a rough transfer, I think, but I'm still excited!

Granted, I also still have no idea what many of the people here are saying whenever they try to talk to me. Especially because most of what they say to me are questions, which are so much harder to understand than normal conversation, because every part of the sentence is important, whereas in conversation I can often get a general idea of the meaning.

This past Sunday I shared my testimony in Sacrament meeting, talking about how the reason I'm here, a gringo in the center of Argentina, is to share the gospel I know to be true. I felt the Spirit so strongly while saying it, and it made me happy. It also seemed to touch the 25 or so members in the branch. I have actually been told multiple times by various people that my Spanish is very good, and that lifts my spirits. Granted, it's probably like in English, where someone can say something recognizable and we praise them as perfect. I think I am actually decently good at it, though, at least considering my huge lack of experience. I can honestly say that the gift of tongues has been with me ever since I got to Argentina, because I have been able to speak sufficiently. It's the gift of interpretation of tongues that I'm seeking most right now, because all those people weren't joking when they said that Argentine Spanish is the fastest there is. And they leave out half the letters. That's not helpful.

Okay, I don't have much time left, so I'll make the rest of this brief. We traveled back to Mendoza on Sunday evening and then went to the conference the next afternoon with Elder Renlund. We got to take a picture with him, as a group, and even individually, as we shook his hand! I don't know where those pictures are right now, but I'll keep y'all posted on that. Anyway, I am now in San Rafael with Elder Vazquez on splits because Elder Avila needed to stay an extra day for some meeting. Oh, did I mention that he is both the district leader AND the zone leader? He's insane. And awesome. So I'm here for my first P-day, and having a weird time because I have no idea what's going on half the time because Elder Vazquez is an Argentine so I can't understand him, either. But I'm alive and surviving.

Regarding the calls each week, we have been told that they are in addition to our email time, so these emails will not cease. I believe those will be allowed starting next week.

Regarding Jacob's talk on the miracles, I learned a lot of really awesome stuff about those, especially the one about the woman touching His robe, in the book Jesus the Christ. I highly recommend it; it's a wonderful read. Jacob, I think you would love it as I do. It's so simple and concise.

I don't have any pictures to share this time around because my camera is in Mendoza with Elder Avila due to a miscommunication, along with basically everything I brought for this conference trip except my books. Hey, at least I can read the Book of Mormon in Spanish; who needs clean clothes, anyway? (But Elder Vazquez offered me some of his clothing to use while I'm here, so I'll be okay.)

I'm officially out of time, so I'll stop here.

Con amor, de Argentina,

Elder Hill