The Trip, Part II

Some more pictures from the trip--this one of the Hill Cumorah. It really is the tallest thing around--a spectacular view from on top. Several people elected to roll down it. I declined. A set of keys to one of the rental cars was lost in the process (and quickly found).
We drove from Palmyra, New York, to Kirtland, Ohio. Everyone learned the Erie Canal song ("I've got an old mule and her name is Sal...") on the way. It was sung several times during the trip. We stopped at one of the locks on the actual canal. It's still used for shipping and recreation.
A reconstruction of the John Johnson farm in Hiram, Ohio, where the Church was officially founded on April 6, 1830 (a Tuesday). The other building on this site is half a visitors' center and half a meeting house for the area.
And we went to Kirtland, Ohio. The Kirtland Temple was a highlight of the trip for me. It's currently owned and maintained by the Community of Christ, a break-off from the LDS Church. They also run several of the sites in Nauvoo, and they had some big-wig guides for our group. One was one of their major scholars, and the other the director of all their sites in Nauvoo. I appreciated their work to maintain these common aspects of our heritage and their explanations of their beliefs, but that wasn't why I so loved visiting the Kirtland Temple.

A lot of amazing things happened in the Kirtland Temple while the saints were there. There are reports of miraculous things happening at the two packed dedication services. Later, Christ, Moses, Elijah, and others appeared here. And though not all the ordinances we have in the temple were performed until the saints were in Nauvoo (so after the days of the Kirtland Temple), it was the first temple of the new dispensation--it opened this age of temple work. I felt such a special peace being inside it, and I felt close to and grateful to those who worked so hard for it.

It's a big building, and I got the impression that it's very delicate. There are three levels: two huge meeting rooms (with pew boxes and benches that could be shifted to face either way) on the first two floors, and offices upstairs. The main level meeting room was for everyone, the second level was for priesthood meetings and training. The upstairs offices were used by the First Presidency, but also used as a school on weekdays open to anyone.
On the way to dinner that night, we stopped to see Symons Ryder's grave. He was an early member of the Church; the reason he gave for leaving it was that Joseph Smith spelled his name wrong ("Rider") on his mission call. He was a wealthy man, and after he left the Church gave a lot of money to a college in the area, and was a leader in the Campbellite Church. "Disciple" in "disciple of Christ" is misspelled on his gravestone.

Isn't this a wonderful cemetery? We stopped really briefly, but there was a quick game of "Enemy and Defender," which involves lots of running and giggling, before we left...car keys were lost then found here, too.
The next day we flew to Saint Louis, then drove to Nauvoo. A brief stop in Hannibal, Mark Twain's home town.
By now we had a tour bus rather than cars. Everyone was excited as we drove into Nauvoo--excited to see the temple. There it is, on the hill. We drove in to Nauvoo from Missouri, talking about the saints being driven out--following their footsteps, so to speak. It was so hopeful--triumphal, even--to see the temple in Nauvoo. And when we left a few days later, we were again in their footsteps, this time to Salt Lake City. Salt Lake, where it all finally worked--enough for them to build their houses, city, temple. Enough for them to stay. It strikes me that I am living what they hoped and worked and sacrificed for.
At one of the Community of Christ gift shops in Nauvoo, our professor, Richard Bennett, noticed two or three books he had authored or co-authored. He asked one of the students for a pen, picked one up, and started signing. He let the visitor's center people know as he was through about half the stack.

The Trip, Part I

It's not like I haven't gone on any trips lately--I kind of feel bad for not giving others this kind of attention. But this really was a special one. I signed up for a Church history class this semester because I needed two more religion credits, two more Honors credits, and something that fit with a crazy schedule. This class was the only one that fit the bill. I was surprised, though, to get an email this summer informing me that the class included a trip to Church history sites in the eastern US. My parents, bless them, agreed to pay the subsidized fee--and it was an amazing week.

We flew into Rochester on the 22nd. For the first half of the trip, we were in rental cars and mini vans. We landed and started driving, and all of us were just excited to be there. Couldn't quite believe it--midterms one day, New York the next.

The next morning we went first thing to the Joseph Smith farm. This is where the 14-year-old Joseph Smith prayed about which church to join, and got a direct answer from God and Jesus Christ.

I was just blown away with how beautiful upstate New York is. When we were flying in I had already pretty much decided to move there. The farm itself is also beautiful. And, this is silly, but part of what was so cool about being there was that that's where the Restoration DVD was filmed--the DVD I sometimes saw three times a day on my mission with people learning about the Church. It's a good one. Click the link, go watch it.

The Sacred Grove was a highlight of the trip. It was so peaceful. A few people talked about hoping for a life-changing experience going into the Grove where Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ came to answer a prayer, but that that didn't happen. That instead, there was a feeling of calm and of peace. The feeling here--that feeling--was like being in the temple.

Next was the Grandin Print Shop, where the first edition of the Book of Mormon was printed. As we were about to leave, a senior missionary stood up and said they were one of a handful of missions that was piloting a program with missionaries blogging. MISSIONARIES BLOGGING! Using technology, how wonderful is that? And it's not just the senior couples, but young missionaries, too. Here's his blog, and a link to all the official missionary blogs that have been started. I'll put a link in my blogroll, too.


This is Alvin Smith's grave (Joseph Smith's older brother), though his remains got washed away in a storm a long time ago. So his grave marker.

Super Fat Tuesday

The most obscure holiday ever. But a fantastic one.

Because I didn't get an absentee ballot, and because I'm registered to vote in Salt Lake, not in Provo, I didn't think I was going to be able to vote in the primaries yesterday. But my roommate Aubrey mentioned something about going even though she was registered in Logan...and I learned I could vote provisionally! The two of us went down to the polling place. She had time to go look at an apartment while I waited in line--for about an hour and a half. But I made it, by golly, and the two of us voted. And got stickers. When we got back, we told my roommate Jessica (who was registered to vote in Provo) where to go, and she went and did it, too.

Yesterday was also Mardi Gras. I have always wanted to give something up for Lent--and this year is my year. I developed a serious chocolate habit while I was in France that I haven't been able to kick. When I mentioned to Aubrey and Jessica that night that I was going to give up chocolate, they said something to the effect of that being a good idea. Aubrey suggested we watch Chocolat to celebrate Mardi Gras, so the three of us put it on and assembled a pile of chocolate, which we ate until we got sick (or at least I did).

Happy Super Fat Tuesday.

Numbers

Age in months of my nephew: 17
Number of times I’ve changed my major: 1
Number of bedrooms I’ve had: 6
Number of siblings: 2
Books I’ve completed since the third grade: 393
Months since I’ve seen my sister: 15
Number of photos on my computer: 3,766









Foreign language dictionaries, print and electronic, I own: 6
Number of pens I’ve used up this semester: 2
Hours spent in foreign language classes: 1,272


Hours slept last night: 3.5
Percent of my life spent in Sunday church services: 1.6
Paris of shoes that I own: 12
Number of roommates I’ve had: 17

Photos

Saturday was a Young Adults activity with the branch. Guy-Noël, Tarolin, Maïté, Jennifer, and I got to and from Benois’ house on the bus. On the way back though, the bus drove right past the five of us waiting at the bus stop, so we had to walk to another stop to catch a different bus. It was dark and so quiet—hardly any cars went past. Tarolin was so mad that the bus hadn’t stopped, and he walked fast ahead of the rest of us. The moon was full, and huge. It was beautiful.



I don’t like saying goodbye to people. It’s almost easier just not to become friends in the first place. Almost.

I had my last Family Home Evening with the Warenghein family last night. They found me at church my first Sunday here, and have had me over every Monday night since then. They made me feel a lot less island-like while I’ve been here, and after I said goodbye last night, I suddenly felt homeless.



This is where I have been spending my last two weeks, sculpting in Jumièges. Yesterday at the sculpture workshop, Tiffann called me her favorite American. I will miss the people there, too.

Sculpting...

The sculpture workshop continues. I am working on a bas-relief in Caen stone. Today at lunch someone asked me where I was from, and someone else knew Mormons were connected with Utah, so we spent some time talking about that. We established that Mormons dress like normal people and don't have to live in Utah. This evening, we had a barbecue. I expalined the strength of the different swear words they recited to me in English. We told jokes; mine weren't always that funny after translating them into French or explaining "la chute"--the punchline--for the ones in English. Tiffann told me about smoking weed and Mathieu talked about why he is vegetarian. And Adeline, who is teaching the workshop, talked about sculpting.

Today, Monica and I went to the highest point in Geneva. You see France beyond.

You can see France from pretty much anywhere here, but it doesn't stop amazing me--oh yes, that hill over there, that's a different country. You know, here is neutral territory and hasn't been touched for hundreds of years, but over there, all sorts of nasty things happened like a Nazi occupation. Yes, and they sing a different national song and have a different flag. They have a whole different culture, different heritage and government and history. It's just another country. No big deal.

Today was really lovely again. I went to church this morning, where I met an American who is currently living in Taiwan where she was born so she can connect with her heritage. She works for a newspaper there and is in Geneva for a conference. Some of the Relief Society sisters came and talked to me as well and had remembered me from the week before. I wish I wasn't as shy and that I could more easily connect with these people, wherever I find them.

I Hate French Tonight

Good heavens, what's the point of learning another language? It's really tiring to listen to other people speak it and it's really tiring for other people to try to understand me speak it.

Tonight, Dyvia cooked Indian food and invited two of the neighbors to come eat with us. Dyvia is studying French but won't speak it generally, so a lot of the conversation was in English (in addition to French and German). We sat around and talked for a long time after dinner, this almost entirely in English. I love having a native language. It feels good to be able to use all the words I want to use and to be able to say what I want to say. Dyvia talked about the caste system in India (lower castes and "Other Backward Castes" currently receive monitary and other benefits from the government--affirmative action) and the discussion turned to religious beliefs.

We ended up going around the table, and each person told their view of who God is or if there is a God--their view on the force greater than ourselves. Dyvia said within the last couple of years she started believing there was a God when she started praying for little things and they would happen. Madame La Voisine said she believed there was something greather than us, though she didn't believe there was a God. I told how I believe there is a God, and he has a body, and he created us, and we are here to learn and to become better. Monica said she didn't believe there was a God, but believed in the Buddhist idea of eventually being able to thing of the world and other people not in terms of yourself and others, but in terms of everything being part of one universe--so no us and them, no you and me, just one (I liked this--and I've certainly been taught that we are all equal). Emmanuel said there is definately a higher force, but it doesn't matter what you call it--Jehova, or God, or Shiva.

The pictures: Geneva street art, The University of Geneva, and Lake Neuchatel. I went and talked to a councilor at the University of Geneva today about a master's program, and then Monica and I went to a really long meeting (the word in French for "meeting" in this case being "séance," which I found somewhat ironic) in Neuchatel about how the different cantons are implementing the European Language Portfolio. On the train back I tried to interview a teacher who uses the ELP. It was all a lot of French. Getting to use English tonight made me feel better.