Original article posted by Greg:
Not a whole lot to report this week. I had a great first discussion last night with a family of four. Elder Rowberry played with the kids and I taught the parents. It went well. They agreed to give it a try, which is all we ask. Then they loaded us up with a bag full of candy, fried fish (whole), ‘egg rolls,’ a 2-liter bottle of 7-up, and tried to give us a cake. We said no, because with the bag of food given to us by the last house we visited, there wouldn’t have been room on my bike.
Some days you give it away, some days it gets given to you. It’s just never quite what you expect either way.
The best part of teaching that family last night was this: I wasn’t looking forward to it, as they had frequently told us how faithful they were in their religion, and how ‘all religions are the same.’ I’ve tried to teach people of this particular religion before and it’s like something involving an overused phrase and a brick wall. So, walking up to their door, I said a quick prayer and asked God to change my preconceptions through this experience. And He did.
The highlight of the past week, though, came on Sunday. As we stopped to look at a map, and big old man with a scarred over tracheotomy walked up to us.
I will mention that my Chinese isn’t that good to begin with.
He said something, then tapped on my nametag. Then he turned to Elder Rowberry and said “Aaaayyyy!” and gave him a big hug. Then he turned to me and said “Aaaayyy!” and gave me a big hug. Then, in English, he said, “I love you!” and gave Elder Rowberry a hug again and wandered off. Apparently to find more missionaries to hug.
THEN, moments later, in the same spot, a lady waves at us through the window. We go over and she starts talking to us. She was from Vietnam, and her Chinese wasn’t very good. Despite that, she made it abundantly clear that she was looking for an American to marry. We said, sorry not interested. She started crying and told us about how she first met Americans when they killed her father when she was five years old. She still remembers the jets and the bombs.
Then she wiped away the tears and said, ‘but that doesn’t matter now, we’re all friends now. I like Americans now.’
We couldn’t think of what to say, and knew that she wouldn’t understand much of whatever it was we weren’t thinking of anyway. So we just shook hands and went away.
A weird 5 minutes or so.
Stuffington would have known what to say.
-Elder ‘subliminal, in an unnoticable way’ Hamblin
Re: Old Stuffington gets a name, and more.