Get up friends! Go for your dreams.

18 Dec 2008

Hello, hello!

Goodness, time is starting to move much more quickly. The other day we were on the subway, and a group of three Americans with skateboards got on. They were kind of roudy (sp? I don't have spell check), and I was kind of embarassed...and it just, in a weird way, reminded me that this is a neat place and a neat time in life. I am starting to love Korea. I am trying to talk to everyone, to talk to people as we travel--which is really weird for people. And here it's especially weird to talk to strangers, and it's weird for a foreigner to speak Korean. But even when I get rejected, I get rejected very politely.

It's not just that, of course...it's how I feel at ease here, and how I'm grateful to be able to focus just on the gospel. And to do that with them. Yesterday we took a bus out to an area outside the city. We were going to be meeting with two member couples. It was a rainy day, and when we got off the bus, there was a man with an umbrella who smiled and bowed--he and his wife came to pick us up because of the weather. We went to the restaurant owned by the second couple, and as the six of us sat around a low table, with a soup boiling in the middle, eating with chopsticks out of the same bowls, and as they laughed and talked with eachother, I just felt at home with them. I had had kind of a rough morning, and being with them brought sunshine to my soul--I don't know how else to describe it.

On Sunday, we ate with another member family--the family of the bishop of one of the wards in the stake we're in (Yong Dong stake). We had asked a couple hours previously if we could just stop by briefly, but when we did, his wife sat us down to eat with them. After the meal, as we kneeled and prayed, I was just overwhelmed by their goodness and love, when I felt I could give so little in return.

Some other stories from the week. It was kind of a musical week. On Saturday we teach a beginning English class, and we're supposed to do gospel time, in English, as the last part of it, which is hard with beginning learners. We decided to sing the chorus of "Follow the Prophet," since it has a grand total of three different lines, one of which you sing six times.

We had some time before to prepare, so I found a children's song book and practiced playing it on the piano. During the class, I wasn't sure if I would actually be able to play while people were singing--whenever I've tried doing so before, my heart beats so fast and my hands shake so badly that I can't play what I've practiced. But it was just fine. I played it without problems, and we went through it several times. Thinking about that, about being able to do something I couldn't do before, was another reminder of how...I often feel I am getting so much help. I can speak to people without getting nervous, without worring about the language, things that I didn't do before. And I am just grateful for it.

And the language is coming. I can usually follow the small talk that preceeds our lessons, and I am starting to join in with it and with the lessons. A little. And people are so, so patient. No one learns Korean, and they know it's hard. They are so kind about it (though sometimes I solicit a giggle or two).

On Sunday, there was a baptisimal service--someone the elders in Song Pa ward had taught (there are elders in every ward, then sisters divided between stakes). I was excited for my first baptisimal service in Korea. Sister Romney and I got recruited to be in an impromptu choir, and we rehearsed "The Spirit of God" as we waited for the meeting to get going. It opened, and after some remarks, people went upstairs to the font for the actual baptism...but we stayed down and practiced a few more times. Sad. But worth it.

The plan was to have a piano solo on the third verse. Our little choir was made up of all sisters, though there was one brother who's a ward missionary who kind of sang with us as we rehearsed. He obviously enjoyed singing.

Well, people came back in after the baptism, and there were some testimonies, and then we got up to sing. We got to the third verse--I had been warned a few times about the piano solo--and all of a sudden, the ward missionary brother who had kind of sung with us stood up, and, following the music and his heart, began an impromptu solo and joined us at the front of the meeting. The rest of us nearly burst out laughing, but instead joined him on the chorus.

There was some more music last night--Sister Romney and I played hymns on the piano together--me the left hand, her the right--as we waited for an investigator to have her baptisimal interview. Her name means "Morning Star." She had a baptisimal date before I got here, but since then we've met with her a few times, reviewed some things, talked about work and school.... She is nervous to be baptized, but she is ready. And I am just grateful to share in some small part of that with her.

I love you all!

--Carrie

Segment of Happy Life

11 Dec 2008

We were on the bus the other day, and I saw a cafe called "Segment of Happy Life." I enjoyed that. There's lots of English and Englishy and Konglishy things around here. And sometimes there're rather poetic.

A good week. We laughed, we cried, we went home happy. This area apparently has a weather pattern of about 4 warm days followed by about 3 cold days. Well, the cold days hit last week. There are four in our appartment, and we all sleep on the floor of the living room on "yos" (foam pads that you fold up and put away during the day). Houses are heated with a hot water system--there are pipes under the floor, and they are heated with the water. All together, it is quite pleasant at night.

Except this week, when it really got cold, our hot water (and therefore heat) went out. We all woke up and kind of just laid in bed, cold, not wanting to move. After some phone calls, we packed some things and got ready at the mission home. The office elders fussed with our apartment during the day--they unthawed the pipes (though it's not quite clear if that they were frozen and that was the problem) and brought a big heater, which we turned on the next night. But it used too much electricity, so the next morning we had neither heat nor hot water nor electricity. We spent the next night at the mission home. Some more fussing, and we're okay again...it was an adventure, to be sure.

Elders here cover wards, but the sisters cover stakes. So Sister Romney and I were at a new ward last Sunday, and it was delightful. We had already met with some of the people in the ward, and it was wonderful to see familiar faces. It was fast Sunday, so sacrament meeting was testimony meeting. Last Sunday, at the other ward, they had me get up and share my testimony and introduce myself. This Sunday, as the sacrament meeting started, I heard my name. I wasn't sitting with my companion, and I had no idea what they were saying, but just in case they were saying I was going to get up and introduce myself, I got up and was the first testimony of the meeting. I was afraid to ask my companion after what they really said.

This week we set a baptism date with someone we started meeting with after I got here! She's the one who wants to be a flight attendant, and every time we meet with her, she just agrees with things and is happy about what we teach. When we asked her about being baptized, it was the same way. And during the lesson, I just kept thinking, if this is the only thing that happens on my mission, it's worth it. Entirely worth it.

Ahh! Out of time!!

Lots of love,

Carrie

First Week. Done.

04 Dec 2008

Wow, it was quite the week. At least I don't have to do the first ever week in Korea again! Few! Maybe my first or second full day, we were transfering between buses--walking between stops--and I was thinking about how I needed to be talking to people--but I can't talk to people--and why didn't they just send me to Argentina where I could actually communicate?--Argentina, wait, why not to Idaho, for heavens sakes? I came on a mission thinking I had down the lesson of trusting God. I think I'm getting a little more practice, though. Which is good.

The mission president's wife and president (Sister and President Burton) hosted a zone for Thanksgiving, so we got to go there for turkey, green beans, cranberry sauce.... It was lovely. We were just missing the kim chi. A meal without kim chi. Or rice. (Hardly complete!)

That night, Sister Burton was going to take me to the doctor when she heard me still coughing. But after a teaching appointment, she and President Burton had talked it over and gave me some cough drops, pm cold tabs, a humidifier, got me a blessing, and drove us home. And I'm doing great--all fixed up:) I'm being taken good care of.

It has been a big adjustment to see how investigators actually learn and progress (after practicing teaching in the MTC), but it has been wonderful to start meeting with real people! And we actually are meeting with and teaching people--I really didn't know what to expect in that regard, either.

The missions in Korea do an English program, where we tutor English for 30 minutes, then teach the gospel lessons for 30 minutes. English is in high demand here--thinking about it, I think that is just part of how fast their country changes, which in turn seems part of how hard, hard, hard they work (another manifestation of that--rush hour is a couple hours later than in the US). I was kind of doubtful about the 30/30 program, but we're upfront about how it works, and there really are people who are receptive to the gospel lessons who first learn about the Church because of the English program.

We only talk to women in contacting, and we only meet with women. And we are meeting with some really neat people. One wants to be a flight attendant for Korean Air ("flight attendants are like rock stars here," one of the other sisters said once), so she needs to know English (and Japanese or Chinese). She seems receptive to what we teach about the gospel, too, and prayed the first time we asked her to, even though she hadn't ever before. That was a really neat experience--to hear somebody's first prayer. We meet at the church, and last time she brought us dak bogoi--big, thinck rice noodles in spicy sauce that we ate by stabbing them with wooden skewers.

Then there's a high school home ec teacher who files her nails into points. Her husband is an author, she's Catholic, and she has traveled all over the world. She has a month long break starting on December 25, and we set a time when she could teach us to make kim chi stew. I really love talking to her. I love being around her. I love learning from her. And she is learning from the Spirit, little by little.

We were out tracting the other day (in Korean, tracting is 가가호호--ka ka ho ho. I love that word.) and a woman saw us and invited us in. We sat on the floor around the table, and Sister Romney talked about the Book of Mormon. And she was just happy, agreed with what we said. She took the book and liked what we read from it, but wasn't really interested in meeting again. That seems to happen often, which has really surprised me. People like the Book of Mormon, even accept it; like how it teaches of Christ and supports the Bible. But they don't quite see the implications of accepting it. That's how it seems to be for the high school teacher.

There's a high school student who is friends with the stake president's daughter. She's agnostic, but last night, she said she is starting to believe there is a God. She said she feels strengthened when she meets with us. She reads and prays, and when we meet and I try to talk, I just hope and pray she will know this can make her happy. There's a lot of that, right here at the beginning when I really can't speak to people. Hoping and praying that they will understand. I guess there always should be, though.

I send lots of love!

--Carrie

Korea. At length.

27 Nov 2008

Hello!

So, first of all, my weekly email time has been doubled--I now get an hour each preparation day. Hooray! That will be good especially because mail will be slow--according to my new companion, we don't give out the apartment address, so everything has to go through the mission office, so I'll only get letters every two to three weeks. Sad.

So. Leaving. We left the MTC at 5:00 am, and took a bus to the airport. A short flight to LA, then a flight to Incheon. The LA international terminal was great--people from India, all over Aisa.... We were on a giant Korean Air plane to Korea, and when we got on, the neatly dressed flight attendants were bowing and saying, 어영아심니까 (sp?)--the polite hello. We flew along the coast of California and up the edge of North America, across Alaska--frozen, snowy, no signs of life--and the Bearing Strait (the highlight of the flight--how often do you fly over the Bearing Strait!?) and across Siberia (funnily enough, Russia looked a lot like Alaska--snowy, frozen over, lifeless), then down over some ocean, across Korea, and to Incheon.

The mission presidents from the Daejon and Seoul West missions were there with their wives to greet us. I had to say goodbye to the sisters from my district that I spent all of the last 11 weeks with (which was sad), and then was the only girl in the group.

We loaded up the luggage into a van, then Books of Mormon were passed out, we took a picture in the parking lot, and President Burton announced everyone would be going to the mission home on the bus and trying to place them...except Sister Gold, who would ride back with them. I felt a little left out. But I got the chance to talk to President and Sister Burton for the hour and a half or so ride into Seoul.

There were two Korean missionaries who got here yesterday, too. 김 종로님 and 조 자매님--Elder Kim and Sister Jo. We spent two nights at the mission home. I was babied--they gave me the nice bedroom, all to my self. They heard me coughing, and the next day they pulled out a humidifier. That afternoon, after filling out paperwork and going to the bank (I now have a Korean bank account), we all sat in the living room and did some training, and they had me sit right by it. As we were getting ready for dinner, Elder Bogner said, "what's with the humidifier? Is that like a Korean thing?"

And than I said, shamefully, "no it's for me."

"Oh, that's embarassing," he said.

We had a traditional Korean breakfast yesterday--rice, kimchi, bulgogi (spicy marinated beef). We went out to a little place for lunch, and Sister Jo picked out some dishes for us--kimchi, bibim bap (veggies and rice), and cheese kim bap (kim bap is Korean sushi--this one with American cheese. Not a good idea.). Dinner was good old Hawaiian haystacks.

I got a good night's sleep, then the trainers came this morning. Two meetings talking about some things, then we had a testimony meeting, during which President Burton decided the companionships.

The sister missionaries are assigned by stake, rather than by ward. I am in an area right near the mission home (it was to be that or Incheon--an hour and a half away and being opened up new for the sisters. I was happy to be staying here.). My new companion is Sister Romney. She's been out almost 11 months. We're in a great little apartment in a neighborhood--the buildings look like blocks stacked on top of each other. There are two other sisters in the same apartment (yay!). We have two study rooms, a clothes room, two tiny bathrooms, the kitchen, then a central room where we'll all sleep on yos on the floor. It feels cozy.

I so desperately wish I spoke more Korean. I hardly understand a thing--which I expected. And around the missionaries and such, everything is in English, since there are so many Americans. I just hope and pray I will learn fast--learn Korean, and learn to speak up. That I'll be able to do this.

I am happy to be here, and it doesn't feel strange at all that I am.

I love you all!

--Carrie

I'm in Korea. You're in the USA.

26 Nov 2008

Hello, hello! Just a quick email to say I made it--per instructions. No problems getting here, though it was sad to tell Sister Jensen goodbye at the airport. We're at the mission home for two nights--last night, then we'll head out tomorrow afternoon. There is a Korean sister--Sister Jo--who came in at the same time. They let us have seperate rooms, though--which I'm so releived (sp??) for--I'm still a bit sick, so I didn't keep her up coughing (the night before I left I was wondering what I could do about that with my companion--earplugs might be an odd gift for someone you just met). Our preparation day will be Thursday--so I'll be able to send a longer email tomorrow.

Korea doesn't feel very foreign--Europe felt more different than here does. Maybe because so much is so new here, like in the US. I just wish I could speak Korean. I keep praying to be able to open my mouth--I think that's the key to everything I want to do here. Hopefully it will start to come. Soon!

Lots and lots of love,

Carrie

Last Week!

18 Nov 2008

Ah! How can I write about this week in the ninteen minutes and seven seconds I have left till I get booted off MyLDSMail?!

The 14-year-old Sister Jensen and I had been communicating with over chats and email who wants to get baptized told his parents that this week, and was absolutely crushed by their reaction. And Sister Jensen was crushed by not being able to do anything about it. After, she said maybe this is what make missions hard--people finding truth and wanting it, but being kept from it. And I'll add my own speculation: people making decisions that will make them unhappy. And you want them to be happy. And you love them.

I have thought about that this week. About love. There was the 14-year-old, and then some people in our district had some down days; Sister Jensen and I swung apart for a moment before swinging back together. My assignment as a coordinating sister ended this week, and when they told me I was done, I felt such a huge relief.

I don't know if I am successfully tying this all together--that caring matters so much, but it is hard. But it matters. I would do pretty much anything in my power for any of those people--the 14-year-old, or Sister Jensen, or the people in my district. And I try to. But there are things they have to do for themselves. Or let God do.

I think this is strangely related to a grand awakening this week: that I don't have to be perfect to be a missionary. On Sunday, we had our exit interviews with the branch presidency, where we were to teach something for five minutes in Korean. After I did mine, I came out convinced there was no way I could do this. I don't speak Korean. And so many other limitations.

Then this week, one of my teacher's supervisor came in and showed some mission pictures and told about what he learned. And then I heard a clip of a recorded talk someone was playing in the residence hall, and a story about a man who "didn't have a car, but he had feet. And faith." And then it was warm enough to go outside for our gym period, and somewhere in there I realized I don't have to do it perfectly. I just have to try, and work, and talk to people. And I think I can do that. But there are things I can't do for myself. But it will be okay. God isn't asking me to do those things--and if he is, he'll help.

So I think I'm ready.

I love you all!!

Perfect Saturday; Two-Week Countdown

11 Nov 2008

Hello, all!

I am scheduled to leave on November 24--two weeks from yesterday! It snuck up on me--I was settling in to the MTC for the long haul and all of a sudden I am tying up loose ends again and getting ready to move on (something I have a feeling I will be doing often during the next few months). I am less scared and more excited to go. The cafeteria is helping with that--they do a good job, but I am anxious for Korean food.

Last Saturday was lovely. Classes in the morning, like usual. On Saturdays we have our "Teaching Appointment," where we go teach volunteers who are pretending to be investigators. I didn't feel ready at all, but we had time to practice and prepare that morning and afternoon.

When we go to the Teaching Appointment, we first have a "task," where we do something new in the language with the volunteers, like talk about food or give directions. On Saturday, we were supposed to ask for referrals--if the person knew anyone else who might be interested in meeting with us. The volunteer was a teenage girl from Korea, and when we asked her, she said, "yes, my friend."

"Where do they live?" Sister Jensen asked (though not quite so eloquently, as it was in Korean).

"In Seoul," she said.

She wrote down their names for us, and I said, "Wait, really?"

She really did have two friends in Seoul who she thought might be interested. We had her write down their addresses--and we walked out with two actual referrals! After, the lesson we taught in Korean went slowly (as we tried to find the words we needed somewhere in our heads), but very well.

Also on Saturday, I got lots of mail! My mom sent me the front page of the Deseret News from election day--which made me feel so loved (if a little guilty). And I got a big envelope from my cousin's family--April and Kevin and kids--with each of them having contributed something. It was so wonderful to read through their kind words! I also got a note from a friend who recently left the MTC and is in Montreal.

Then, that night was our district's time to go to the Referral Center, where we do outbound calls to people who have ordered free material from the church and take inbound chats and calls from people with questions. I ended up chatting with a fourteen-year-old I had chatted with before who is just excited about the Church and the Book of Mormon--ended up doing the first lesson over chat! Just a good day as a missionary.

I love you all!

Election Day!

Tue, 04 Nov 2008

Happy election day! I have been excited and nervous for today...I am hoping some sort of election news will penetrate the MTC, but I would be grateful for anything anyone sends my way. I got my absentee ballot a few weeks ago and sent it in--trying to be a good citizen:)

Events of the week:

Last Tuesday night a microwave in the residence hall exploded. I was sitting talking to someone out on the floor, and all of a sudden there was a huge bang. And smoke. And girls screaming and running around. I started thinking to myself: "That was louder than anything I usually hear in the residence hall...I think that might have been an expolsion." And, sure enough, I looked over in the direction of the smoke and a forming crowd of girls to see the microwave's door had blown off, control panel askew. Inside was a green waterbottle that someone had put in the microwave closed tight.

There was glass everywhere (no one was hurt), and in the flurry of girls in pijamas I heard things like "has anyone called the front desk?" and then a vacuum start up. Action was taken. We all bonded. We're closer because of it and got to tell the story the next day.

Halloween on Thursday. I dressed up as Sister Jensen and Sister Jensen dressed up as Sister Gold. We switched hairstyles and clothes. It was quite convincing. We had our cleaning assignment that morning, though, and after we had changed back into church clothes, it appeared Sister Jensen didn't want to be Sister Gold anymore. We had gym a few hours later, and I stopped being Sister Jensen. I was quite glad to be myself again.

Yesterday, Monday, Korean and I had a fight. Korean grammar is different from the languages I've studied before, but entire semester-long classes spent disecting sentance structures has helped immensely with Korean. Everything up to this point has pretty much made sense to me grammatically, even though I can't always reproduce it. Yesterday, though, we were going through a sentance (or is it sentence? I'm sorry, another reminder--no spell check) in class and there was a part I didn't get, and it absolutely drove me crazy. Korean and I didn't speak for the rest of the day, I was so frustrated. It made me scared to think about surviving in Korea. But I will learn. I'll be back at it again tomorrow.

Lots of love,

Carrie

Another Lovely Week

28 October 2008

Hello to you all!

I had another wonderful week, though I'm not quite sure what I can write about it. I feel like I am growing so dramatically in gospel things--which seem to come to me in such whispers, so personally, that I don't know what they would have the same impact if I tried to share them all. So instead, I will say that God teaches us. "Knock and it shall be opened."

A new group of missionaries headed for Korea came in this Wednesday. At the end of their whirlwind day (like when my group came in), they had a meeting with the district presidency. The district is kind of our "congragation" while we're here, and the district presidency act as branch president--like a bishop--and his counsilors (sp? No spell check). The zone leaders (who are elders--missionaries) and I got to go in and talk to them as part of this meeting. It was a lot of fun. Afterwards, I got to give the sisters a tour of the MTC. I used my best tour guide voice.

I really enjoy the association I have with the other missionaries here. The missionaries are such an extraordinary group--we all, of course, need conviction and reasons to be here. I especially enjoy my association with the sisters--who, if I might say it, I think are even more clear on what they're doing and why. We've had a couple more years to think about it, and because it isn't out of obligation.

I love you all and love hearing from you. Have a wonderful week.

--Carrie

Hello, hello!

21 October 2008

I've been thinking lots about our family this week with Tanya's wedding--my heart was there if the rest of me wasn't! I am anxious to hear all about it, and would really love to see pictures (just a note, though, I don't think I'm able to download attached pictures, but I can get hard copies in the mail, no problem!). I was sorry to miss it, and I would love to know how the day went.

I had a wonderful week here, though. Richard Scott addressed us on Sunday, and Sheri Dew talked to us on Tuesday. I started to realize how extraordinary it is to be here. We also taught our first full lesson in Korean this week, which was difficult, simple, and slow, but we did it.

Yesterday was just an especially good day. Classes as usual--Korean is starting to click, which I am so grateful for. The crazy sentence structure is starting to make sense; the pieces are starting to come together. We had our gym time in the afternoon, and my companion Sister Jensen and I went out to the field across the street. It was such a beautiful day--fall seems to have arrived all at once. The sky was so blue and perfect flat-bottomed clouds made shadows on the mountains that are all of a sudden covered in fall colors. I had a wonderful run.

That afternoon, someone came into our classroom and announced we would be starting a program called "OMTC" where we would be meeting with a "progressing investigator" (one of the MTC teachers) twice a week and teaching them the lessons, helping them read the Book of Mormon and pray about it, inviting them to go to church, and so on, like we will with the people we will teach in Korea. And we would be doing it all in Korean. And we would start that night.

I was overwhelmed--our weekly "teaching appointments" where we practice teaching the lessons (which we now do in Korean) felt like plenty to prepare for, now we had these on top of that. We had a few hours to prepare, at least, and I sat down and read a few scriptures. I started thinking about some things. I started thinking about how, according to eternal laws, God gives us blessings when we follow commandments (Doctrine and Covenants 130?). I started thinking about a fireside where we were told we needed to give everything in this service. And I thought, okay. That's what I'll do.

The first visit with our "progressing investigator" went wonderfully. I wasn't nervous; I spoke slowly as I struggled to form coherent sentences out of the handful of words and phrases I know, but I wasn't nervous. It went well, and the appointments will be so helpful in preparing to do it for real.

Earlier that evening, Sister Jensen and I were sitting outside studying when a MTC employee came up and asked if we could take a newly-arrived sister up to her room. It turned out she had just gotten in from Mexico, and barely spoke English. So I got to use my Spanish and we showed her her room and around the MTC a bit. That's exactly why I wanted to learn Spanish--Spanish is useful. I was so glad I had it to help.

That night, when we went back to the residence hall, I was tired. A good tired.

I love you all!

Assignment, Talk in Korean

14 Oct 2008

It's hardly worth talking about weather from Provo, but this morning was so beautiful--cold and crisp and frosty. It felt so fresh. We went up to the temple this morning (it was still dark) and on the way back, the sun was peaking over the mountains, with rays lighting up the sky.

This week the branch president asked me to be the coordinating sister. (I'm going to explain this, because I never understood it before I got here) At the MTC, we are grouped into zones and districts. Our zone had...maybe 60 or 70 missionaries until about half of them left for Korea Monday morning. The zone is broken into districts of about 8-10 missionaries. They're the ones we have class with--and end up spending a lot of time with.

An elder from each district is asked to be the district leader, to keep track of things in the district. Two elders are asked to be zone leaders, to keep track of the things over the whole zone--including things like trying to keep things in order in the residence halls. The zone leaders aren't ever in our residence hall, though, and it would probably be awkward for them to tell a sister her shirt is't buttoned high enough, so they ask a sister to be a "coordinating sister" to (for lack of a better way of describing it) keep track of things with the sisters in the zone.

On Sunday I went to a training meeting with the new district leaders. I was the only girl in the room. It was an interesting experience...I have heard of women in predominantly male workplaces feeling an extra need to assert themselves to make sure everyone else knew they were part of the group. That's kind of how I felt, and a lot of why I participated as we discussed examples of good leadership.

The meeting had a lot of comments about how you do not lead with cooersion (sp?) or force or fear. Later that afternoon I went to another meeting, this one with newly called coordinating sisters, lead by the MTC president's wife. She began the meeting by stating it was a forum for how to serve the sisters, and the first suggestion from one of the new coordinating sisters was that we could put treats on the pillows of the new missionaries coming in. And then I realized men and women are different.

Also this week we had zone conference. We had all been told to write a talk in Korean, and people would be picked at random to give them. I actually don't know much Korean, and I was a bit frustrated with the assignment. But I felt pretty proud of myself after getting together a few coherent sentences and some scriptures to quote. It even had an introduction and conclusion. And guess what? I got called on to give it. That I did--very slowly.

After I sat down, all shakey, there was a musical number. An elder sang--in English--about the God we are serving. And I remembered why I let them call on me to give a talk in Korean, even though I don't speak Korean. And I stopped shaking.

I love you all!

Carrie

This Week's Email

Hello again!

Mom and Dad, I hope you are having a wonderful time in Italy! I love hearing about it.

Dad, happy birthday! I bet it will be a good one, considering the setting. If you ever figure out if someone did resign, pass it on! I'm kind of in a news vacuum.

Well, it was another good week. Classes and our "teaching appointment" on Saturday were canceled for General Conference. Besides the meetings, we didn't have much going on for Saturday and Sunday, which meant a chance to slow down a little and breathe! (I got some ironing done--exciting!--and shined my shoes. I had never shined shoes before. A new experience.)

We watched all four two-hour sessions of conference all dressed up sitting in the big assembly room. I have never done that for Conference before--at home, when it is broadcast, I quite enjoy watching it in my PJ's (though I do sit and take notes even if it's at home on the couch). It was good to listen so attentively, though, and I got a lot out of what the speakers said.

Sunday nights we all meet together for an hour-long fireside. Last Sunday, though, I was a bit suprised that we were having it after already having so many meetings that weekend. They did keep the time-spent-in-meeting factor in mind, though, and the fireside was mostly made up of musical numbers.

We always sing prelude hymns before the meetings get started, since people have to be in their seats early--there is usually an overflow room where the meeting is piped in. Sunday, though, they announced first that they were packing everyone in the same room--no overflow--and second, that one of the prelude songs would be "all eight verses of 'Book of Mormon Stories'."

"Book of Mormon Stories" is a primary song, much beloved, in a minor key, with actions, that most of us hadn't sung in a very long time. And maybe because the rules of a mission help you enjoy simple pleasures, the announcement was met with a lot of excitement. The two thousand of us sang it, many with the actions and a bit of foot-stomping. While this was happening, more people than the room could handle were coming in, and people were trying to sort out where they would sit. Soon elders, in their suits and ties, were carrying in the couches from the hall, lifting them over their heads and arranging them in the front of the room.

Like I said, a mission helps you enjoy simple things:)

I love you all!

--Carrie

(No Subject)

Hello to you all! I hope you have had a good week.

I got over my cold this week. Coming to the MTC and realizing how many people were spending so much time together in such a confined area, I figured it was just a matter of time until I caught something. And I did last week, but I am feeling better.

I think also this week I have adjusted to being a missionary. While I was unpacking in my room when I first got here, I remember some awkward moments thinking about how I wasn't supposed to go places alone anymore, or listen to the music I'm used to listening to...and now those things are more routine.

I've noticed, though, that a lot of the things I used to define myself have gotten stripped down. We don't talk much about movies or music or even majors. Get-to-know-you questions have mostly been stripped down to "Where are you from" and "How many people do you have in your family."

I don't think the other things are bad--that's why missionaries don't do this forever. And being so concentrated on church things has, at times, felt a little odd. Sometimes it feels a bit like I'm living in a convent--a girl in my district called missions the modern Mormon version of "Get thee to a nunnery." In my conservative skirts and mary janes, singing hymns as we walk or finding myself quoting scriptures, I sometimes feel like a nun.

But on the other hand, I have gained a new appreciation for the religious devout. I have thought a lot about missionaries. And before my own mission, I would think a lot about the negative associations with missionary work that have happened over the centuries. I've heard awful stories of missionaries quashing cultures and doing well-meaning but misplaced things in the name of religion.

But as I am surrounded by goodness here, I am seeing the more positive side. Without excusing mistakes, I am seeing the love that motivates such work. Coming into this, I have had a lot of concerns that what we are doing is culturally sensitive. After this week I have more confidence in our missionary work, and I see that it really is motivated by love. None of us is perfect, but God rarely does things by himself--he does them through imprefect people, probably in order to help us all.

That's what I've been thinking about this week. That might be more interesting that what I've been doing: classes and meetings. Last night our district leader came down on our group for being disrespectiful in a class on planning, and the coordinating sister talked to the sisters in our zone about not flirting. We are working on learning the second lesson to practice in our mock "teaching appointment" this Saturday. My companion had to go pick up a prescription at the BYU health clinic down the street, and we were both excited to be able to leave the MTC campus for a half hour. We've learned how to conjugate Korean verbs into past, present, "if," and "when" forms. All is well.

Much love,

Carrie

First Full Week

Hello!

I wish I could tell you everything, but there is only so much I can fit in an email. Today was my first full week on a regular schedule, though (last week was full of orientation meetings), so I thought I'd write a little about that.

Every day except Tuesdays (preparation day) and Sundays, our day is divided up into three blocks of time, plus a gym period, three meals, and an hour before bed to prepare for the next day.

Two of those three blocks are class time. We have two teachers who teach both Korean and how to teach gospel subjects (which felt a little schizophrenic to me at first--it's the first time since sixth grade that my teachers have taught more than one subject).

The third block of time is "MDT" or "Missionary Directed Time," which is a bit of a misnomer, since after we get in an hour of personal study time, an hour of companionship study, and an hour of Korean study, there isn't much of it left. We do things like go to the Teaching Evaluation Center, where some nice teacher listens to us practice.

Saturdays, we have our "teaching appointment," where a volunteer comes in and we teach the lessons we would teach investigators. Also on Saturday, we spend time in the call center.

Our whole schedule is the same for our "district"--a class of ten missionaries. We go to class together, eat together...I share a room with the other sisters in the district...we're getting to know each other very well.

Tuesdays are preparation day, which means I get to write letters, wear normal clothes, and do laundry. In the afternoon, we go to the temple, and Sister Jensen and I go to choir practice. The choir practices on Tuesdays and Sundays, and sings at the devotionals for the whole MTC that happen on Tuesday evenings.

Sundays are calm days--more time to get ready in the morning (we usually have just a half hour, unless you're willing to sacrifice sleep), more personal time, which I like to fill up with reading. I thought that I would be reading the scriptures all the time here--for more time than I could stand--but it turns out it feels like I never have enough time for them. We have Relief Society in the morning, after watching the broadcast of Music and the Spoken Word from Temple Square (which is a very calming thing--I bring my journal or some other activity). We have Sunday School later with our district, then Sacrament Meeting with everyone learning Korean later that afternoon.

So there you go!

Lots of love,

Carrie

First Letter!

I don't have too long to write an email today--only thirty minutes computer time, though I have plenty of time to write letters. I'm sorry, these are the only email addresses I can remember off the top of my head. Mom, could you please forward the email on and write me back the other email addresses? Thank you, thank you. And about thirty minutes email time--I think I really prefer letters anyway. I feel like they are more permanent and more thoughtful, especially when I won't have much time to read and respond to emails. And I love the feeling of getting a letter, and I love writing letters. And finally, I don't think I have spell check. Bear with me.

Okay. So many things have happened since last Wednesday, I decided just to focus on a few things that have suprised me since then here at the MTC:

1. There are six to a roomI didn't expect to be so packed in! It works just fine, though--we are all so busy that we are practically never there during the day, and everyone goes to bed and gets up at the same time (though a chorus of alarm clocks always starts around 6:15).

2. I love having a companion. I think I had started to adapt a lone-ranger sort of attidue over the last few years, so having a companion with me all the time was one of the things I was the most apprehensive about. But I love having a companion! Sister Jensen is practically perfect in every way. Being together all the time, I always have someone I can figure out how to get places with (every building at the MTC looks the same, which made it harder), someone to study Korean with (we spend our time walking place to place and at the gym quizzing each other), someone to share her books when I forgot mine, someone to plan with (so much more fits into a day when it's all planned out!), someone to teach with, someone to practice with.

3. Phrases first, words laterKorean is hard--I'm so glad I at least learned the alphabet before I came. I am starting to see patterns, which is helping me alot, but the primary purpose of our language classes is to get us going in the language tasks we will most need. We started with prayer, then learned a simple testimony, and now are working on introductions and "I would like to share a message about ______." (Though in Korean it's "I ______ message about would like to share." I've never learned a language this way. Interesting.

4. How different I feelThis is what I keep thinking about. I feel so different as a missionary. I don't feel discouraged--there is so much that I need to be able to do, but I haven't been overwhelmed like I normally would be by it all. I am more attentive in class and interact more. Also, I am so excited by what I am doing. I love the feeling of being a missionary--I am grateful for it and for how I am learning and growing.

Gone!

Well, I've spent the last four weeks organizing, packing, cleaning, reading, and now I'm off! Wednesday morning I start my full-time eighteen-month mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. I'll be about twelve weeks in the Provo Missionary Training Center before I head out for the Korea, Seoul West Mission.

I want to share this experience with all of you, so, if things go right, my sister Emmy will be posting my family emails and some photos on the blog (though I won't be able to email from the MTC--so there probably won't be much for the first twelve weeks).

But for letter-writing, here are my addresses:

Korea Seoul West Mission
Provo MTC
2005 N. 900 E.
Provo, UT 84604

And after I leave for Korea (around December 3rd):

Korea Seoul West Mission
Songpa PO Box 31
Songpa-gu
Seoul-si 138-600
SOUTH KOREA

See you in eighteen months!

The Times Are a-Changin'

Listening to the news over the last few months, I've thought not a few times that it is the perfect time to be leaving the country--things are a mess, but I wonder if this is the low point. Here's what I suspect will change in the next eighteen months:

1. The face of the community
as the economy starts to heal and home prices start to balance out again. There are some major projects on the docket for Holladay City, too--this mall was torn down to build up a "lifestyle center" with shopping and housing.

2. The look of the Internet
along with changing technology. In the past two years or so, I've gotten into scrobbling, tagging, posting (though not so much poking)--I can wait to see what they come up with next.

3. The man in the White House
I'm not sure if it's cause for lament or celebration that I leave at the tail end of the campaigns--I'm tired of all the rhetoric, but at the same time, I've really enjoyed talking politics with my family since I moved home. Either way, it's out with the old, in with the new, and a page will turn for our country.

4. The green machine
I compulsively turn out lights and break down boxes. I've noticed, though, a lot of people don't have the same habits I do. The economic downturn seems to only be helping the cause, though--creating, among other things, the perfect environment for developing public transit. That, added to increased public awareness on "green" issues, means home will probably be more environmentally-friendly when I return to it. I hope.

5. My family structure
What was once my parents and three girls is now up to eight people--we'll see how that changes, too.

6. Me
"We know what we are, but know not what we may be." --Shakespeare

Lightrail Revelations

I was riding Trax today, and a woman asked if she "could please use anyone's cell phone?" Yesterday someone let me borrow their phone, so I figured it was only fair, and I dug mine out of my bag and handed it to her. She made her phone call as I read my book, and handed it back to me: "Thank you." 

"You're welcome." 

I turned back to my book, but after a minute or two, she was thanking me again--she had been desperate. "I understand," I said, as I realized we were entering the full-blown small talk phase of the conversation where it would be awkward for me to just start reading again. We kept going as I hoped she would get off soon so I could get back to my book, and before I knew it she was writing her name on the back of a brochure for Prepaid Legal and expressing her amazement that I was twenty years old but had never heard of it. She got up to go, and I felt used. 

And then it hit me: that's what I'll be doing for the next eighteen months. 

I have been thinking recently about the odd vocation that is the full-time missionary. It seems to me that missionaries often preceded or accompanied colonists--in Africa, South America...and in Korea. And what they did certainly wasn't always positive. Considering that heritage, it feels like a somewhat antiquated vocation. 

I have cousins who are full-time missionaries, though (and not Mormon ones). And I typed "missionary" into Google and pulled up some tips for open-air street preaching. So evidently they are alive and well, these missionaries of the world, and of the world's religions. Today on the train, though, after that woman left, it felt like she had only talked to me to try to get a new client. I just hope the people I meet don't feel like that. But then hopefully I don't act quite like that, either. 

The Ministry of...oh. Wait.

It seems like I relate many things in life to Harry Potter. But it just makes them more magical and less mundane if I do. I think my next-door neighbor looks like Sirius Black. Or, for another example, BYU has a huge testing center where you go take exams instead of doing them during class time. It is one big room with rows and rows of desks, everyone silent and scratching away. And it makes me think of Harry Potter--of their final exams all lined up in the Great Hall. Magical final exams.

Well, today I went in to the Missionary Department at the church office building. I've had some issues with my knees in the past, and my mission president asked the Missionary Department to look into it, saying that there are lots of stairs and such in the Korea Seoul West mission. So an orthopedic surgeon who volunteers for the church asked me to come in.

He explained I would need security clearance, but to just go to the front desk and they would print me a badge. I took Trax downtown, and as I walked in the huge church office building, it felt like I was going to the Ministry of Magic--people hurrying around talking about different topics, banks of elevators and "restricted entrance" signs, the fact that it is the headquarters for something huge, the paper airplane memos flying around....

And I went up to the Missionary Department on the third floor, where my papers were sent and reviewed. The doctor who wanted to talk to me had a copy of them, and let me look over the notes that were added after I submitted them (nothing too interesting, though--my bishop and stake president had written how I wanted to get back in time to start school again, and there was a note about the address debacle). I met a few of the contact points over different areas of the world, who coordinate mission presidents and the doctors and other personnel in the department. And I got to see the rows and rows of desks and people busy at them. It was an adventure.

(And my knees passed.)

Ogden Photowalk

My friend Jessica invited me to a photowalk put on by Flickr group Photowalking Utah that we went to last week. It was up in Ogden; we took the bus, Trax, and Frontrunner up and met up with the group. The group tries to do something once a month--for September, they've been invited to check out a new state-of-the-art photo studio on the twentieth. I leave on the tenth--maybe it can be something I can get more involved with when I get back.

The* New Kitchen

My last day working as a cook at the Cannon Center was Wednesday, but I took the pictures and so I'm writing the post. The new facilities were beautiful. New walk-in lockers, with windows--so you could locate something before you walked in (the new freezer was so cold, too, at 9 degrees). The kitchen area was a little small, but they're still figuring out who does what where.





I was kind of sad to leave the job. The old building had one buffet line where you would get a choice of two meal options, plus a salad bar, fruit bar, pasta/soup/leftover bar, and desserts. The new building has a completely new system, with five or so different areas each serving different meals. Expo has oatmeal in the morning, then soups. Fusion does made-to-order omelets (I subbed there one day, and now I know how to make a good looking omelet). The Grill has hamburgers and things, and Euro has fancy stuff like a giant tandoori oven (it's made out of stone, and they cook naan by throwing it against the sides).

I worked in the back prep kitchen. With the new system, they start things a day ahead. I got to do things that were a lot more interesting than scrambled eggs every morning. It was a lot of fun to work in a professional kitchen--it was a good summer job.



*According to the professor of my medieval manuscripts class, "ye" as in "ye old kitchen" was a not matter of orthography, just of handwriting. What looked like a "y" might have been an abbreviation for "th" (I know it sounds crazy, but if you've seen crazy manuscript writing, you'd believe it). So probably no one walked around saying things like "ye old kitchen."

Jamberry!

I'm not quite sure how the idea got into my head...I think it was a combination of walking past two full plum trees on the way to campus every day...my parents talking about freezer jam...my cousin's blog entry about homemade apricot fruit leather, jelly, and juice...staying on campus late one day, hungry, and getting distracted looking up recipes for plums, and stumbling on inevitable recipes for jam and jelly.

So I made last Saturday Jam Day. And goodness, it took all day.

I had never made jam or jelly before, except for helping my grandma make wild plum jelly one summer when I was maybe eight, during my pioneer phase (I dressed up in my pioneer clothes for the event). After tasting what we had created, I decided wild plum jelly was one of the most divine things on earth, and on Saturday I was pleased to discover that domesticated plum jelly has a similar taste.

I started at about 7:30 in the morning by going across the street with a bucket and filling it with plums. I probably should have asked. I didn't. Then I spent a long time cutting them up. I messed a few things up, but I was pretty pleased with myself in the end. Especially since I didn't have fancy jar-grabbers, and the biggest pot in the apartment definitely did not fit one to two inches of water above the jars, but all of them sealed anyway.

I finally finished late. It was hot and I was sweaty. There wasn't a open space on table, counter, or top of refrigerator in the teeny-tiny kitchen. I had succeeded in making two whole batches of jelly and jam, and I realized I was now the proud owner of more of it than I think I have consumed in my entire life.

Ye Old Kitchen

I work as a student cook in one of BYU's cafeterias. Last week, they moved out of their old facilities into a brand new building. Feeling slightly nostalgic, and like it should be documented, I brought my camera to work and took pictures between preparing the last ever meal served in the fifty-year-old Cannon Center.
There were four of these big walk-in lockers--one for dairy, eggs, and milk; one for fresh fruits and vegetables; one freezer; and one for leftovers, cheese, and meat.


I was excited to see all the crazy equipment in an industrial kitchen. To the far left are the steamer ovens (which scare me--stuff comes out not just hot but wet, too). One of my first days, I asked what the other things were called, and the woman just shrugged. "Pots," she said. I could fit inside them; they boil water really fast. People would get up on a stool to stir the thing to the right of the photo, and stir using this huge metal spatula-looking thing, making them look like a witch over a cauldron.


Baskets for serving bread and pass-through warmers for transferring the food to the serving lines.
A better view of a pot.

Spices. Today, in the new Cannon Commons, we were missing some ingredients (including parsley), and someone told me to go to the old building to see if I could find them there. I walked in--the lights were off, it smelled a little rotten. There was still a case of tomatoes on the floor, and some brown bananas. I went into the dry storage room--which felt a little like a scene from Wall-E. Things were mostly cleared out, but there were some bottles and jars of things left behind on the shelves. Alone in the big, empty building, I picked over the leftovers. I never did find parsley. Who runs out of parsley?

(When I got back to the new building and told one of the chefs that I couldn't find it, he said, "That's okay, parsley doesn't taste like anything anyway. Maybe like weeds. Wait--not like weed, I mean like weeds.")


The dish room.

A great big scale in the bakery. The new building doesn't have one--there will be a central BYU bakery instead.

Bakery.
Where I spent a lot of time making hashbrowns and scrambled eggs on the grills and bacon in the ovens (in the back of the picture, by the red garbage can). There's salt on the floor because it got greasy and slippery.

Paul never spoke gibberish

I have a class on Medieval manuscripts this term. I am sitting in the basement of the library working on one of the assignments for the class, designed foster appreciation for how said manuscripts all had little differences (as all were copied by hand), so modern publications ("critical editions") of the stories and texts they hold have to carefully consider each version. The assignment? Look at 15 versions of the Bible and create my own critical edition (of a chapter, not of a whole Bible).

I have probably taken the assignment too far, but the more I find out, the more fascinated I am. At this point I could probably tell you more than you ever wanted to know about the early English translations (I'm no expert...but like I said, I think I've taken things too far).

I was searching for more background on the King James Version (a revision of the Great Bible, based largely on Tyndale's [or Tindale's] translation, which in turn was based on Luther's German translation, Erasmus' Latin translation, and Greek) when I found that, in its original introduction, the self-described "Translators of the Bible" give a layman's explanation of translation. "There were 5 languages to the Greeks, all the rest were tongues," they explain. "This was not gibberish but people speaking their own minor dialect where everyone believed that their own tongue was sacred and must be used for liturgical purposes. Paul never spoke gibberish."

Thank you, translators.

They later write about "the Grecians being desirous of learning," and how they "were not wont to suffer books of worth to lie moulding in Kings' libraries."

Shopping Revelations

Today I was working on an assignment in the library. I was on a computer in Periodicals, and had to move to be by the books I needed access to. I sat down at the new computer, and when I touched it, noticed instantly how dirty it was. (Isn't that on the list of jobs for custodial workers? Clean the keyboards? And door knobs? I really don't think it is.) I then picked up the mouse and wiped it off on my shirt.

I wiped off the mouse.

This evening, I went to buy some groceries. I was at the self checkout, filling my reusable bags with my groceries, when an item wouldn't scan. An employee came over to help. "Are those the organic granny smith apples?" she asked.

"Yes," I said, as a an image of what I just might be becoming flashed through my mind--a fussy Niles Crane type who carries a handkerchief to wipe off computer mouses and who won't touch disposable plastics. Have I mentioned that I carry a fork and spoon with me so that I don't have to throw away plasticware? And what kind of a person buys organic granny smith apples, each individually banded with a skinny label that might as well read, "I Think I'm Better Than You"?

In my defense, they were only ten cents more per pound. And I did buy the cheap bread. Even though one of the ingredients was corn syrup.

The District. Of Colombia.

A couple weeks ago, I went to visit my friend Caroline in Washington, DC. Caroline and I met in Mrs. Thackery's kindergarten class. Now she goes to George Washington University. Except this summer she's working for GW housing and being a high-powered intern (seriously, I saw her on the job) and a Texas representative's office.

And that's where she was the first day I was there. I went to go visit her (after a slight detour caused by not reading the name of the metro stop I was getting off at). We tried to jump ahead of the line so Caroline could give me a tour of the capitol, but even the VIP badge that someone in her office came up with didn't cut it. I think they would have let us in if were both ten years older and dressed in power suits. I decided I don't want to be a congressional aid. Ever. Then I went to kick it at the Supreme Court for awhile, and took this elevator picture. No justice sightings.



That night we met up with Caroline's interior-design-major friend and ate Indian food under a lovely pavilion on the GW campus.

Caroline tripped twice that day--the first time in front of some important representative. The second time, she skinned her knee (through her pants). She shows her wounds.


Indian food under the pavilion was followed by 7-11 Ben and Jerry's ice cream and watching The Princess Bride in Caroline's apartment.

The next day, Saturday, we hit the Newseum. This is part of their exhibit on the Sept. 11 coverage.

While we were there, Caroline got a phone call from the university informing her she had two new roommates. Moving in. Right now. She was more than a little surprised.

We headed back, but stopped to watch skateboarders. Caroline pointed out that then never actually land tricks. To be fair, we saw a few good landings. At least three.


I ran to Trader Joe's for picnic items and cooked them up while Caroline tried to make space for the new roommates. We packed up the picnic and headed to Wolf Trap--an outdoor theater--to watch The Gondoliers. The picnic was wonderful. Chicken and sun dried tomato bratwursts on wheat rolls with caramelized onions and hummus; zucchini; cherry tomatoes; various sweet things.
It started raining shortly after intermission. We had lawn seats and taken the shuttle up, so we couldn't keep watching and we couldn't leave. We ran for cover under an overhang of the main building and chatted for the rest of the show. After that, Caroline introduced me to the first Bourne movie (which lived up to her high praise).

Sunday we went to church. Harry Reid is in the same ward. I felt like that should be in a guide book: "See representative Harry Reid at church! Sunday at 10:00...." It would certainly be an off-the-beaten-track tourist destination.