Week 96 - El Milagro del Espanol

Queridos amigos y familia,

Pues, ojala que no haya confusión con esta carta. ¡No es mi intención confundir, sino inspirarles e invitarles a seguir aprendiendo cosas nuevas en sus vidas! Sí, es con sonrisa que les declaro que el sexto milagro de mi misión es haber aprendido español.

Camino en las calles todos los días. Hola…buenas…que tal…hablo con todos. Es algo que nos ensenan aquí en la misión, ¡hay que hablar con todos! Y lo hago. Hablo con personas desconocidas. Hablo con miembros de la iglesia quienes viven aquí. Hablo con los que reciben nuestras visitas y charlas y los que nos escuchen atentamente. Hablo los domingos del pulpito con confianza y fluidez. Hablo con mis vecinos y con la señora que nos vende los mejores corviches. Quejo un poco de las hormigas que nos infestan diariamente, me rio con el hermano Lenin mientras andamos haciendo bienes. Puedo hablar de casi cualquier cosa. Hablo de los desafíos de la vida. Puedo consolar, animar, ensenar, testificar, y bromear. Ningún tema está fuera de mi alcance.

También, escucho…mucho. Escucho la música en las calles y entiendo la letra. (Es secreto mío que voy a explorar mucho más la música ecuadoriana cuando sea aprobado, cuando ya termine la misión. Me gusta bastante la bachata, la salsa, y ciertos vallenatos.) Escucho los himnos en la capilla los domingos. Y escucho a los consejos de Presidente Murphy y me esfuerzo a vivirlos. Escucho gritos por la noche cuando la gente beba. Escucho conversaciones en restaurantes, en el bus, y en la peluquería. Claro que aprendo palabras nuevas cada día, pero puedo escuchar y entender a todo.

También leo y escribo en español. Leo las escrituras y manuales de la iglesia. Veo y leo los letreros que tienen las tiendas. Leo mensajes que me envían los otros misioneros para informarme de asuntos importantes. Aparte de eso, leo cartas que recibo de vez en cuando de mis conversos en la misión. Bueno, hay muchas más cosas que leo (las fundas en las cuales vienen comida, las señales de tránsito, las configuraciones de la computadora).

No ha sido fácil aprender el español. Muchas personas me preguntan si me costó aprender y siempre les digo que, ¡sí! En el principio me frustraba mucho. Yo tenía en mi mente los pensamientos que querría decir y compartir, cada palabra y oración perfectamente sin querer equivocarme en nada. Esto fue malo por dos razones. Primero, es pecado esperar hasta que se pueda conseguir algo valioso sin tener que trabajar y esforzarse. Segundo, para llegar a tener maestría en alguna habilidad, tiene que equivocarse porque es así que aprendemos - de nuestros errores. Hay que trabajar. Hay que estudiar. Hay que practicar. Hay que sudar. Y no hay que tener miedo de equivocarse porque nada es gratis en la tierra y las cosas más valiosas vienen con trabajo arduo. Así fue para mí el aprender español y así será por el resto de mi vida, mientras busco más éxito en todo lo que hago.

El aprender español me ha cambiado la vida. El poder a pensar y manejar otro idioma ha cambiado mi entendimiento de mi idioma natal. Mientras más aprendamos, llegamos a tener un punto de vista más grande y mejor del mundo. ¡Sigan aprendiendo cosas nuevas! Estudien otros idiomas y culturas. No se desanimen por nada porque serán muy bendecidos por sus esfuerzos. Los amo. Y también, amo el español.

-EE

Week 95 - The Miracle of Gratitude

Dear friends and family,

Two weeks ago I was hiking up a large, dirt hill deep into the community of “La Primavera” on the outskirts of my sector. We walked passed papaya tree after banana tree in this tropical paradise. We passed lots of cinder block houses and two dirt soccer fields with rusty goals. Many families build simple benches out here to put in front of their houses under shades built with wooden beams and sheet metal. We hike past those too and the people sitting on them. We were hiking with a purpose - to visit a family that hasn’t been at church for a few weeks. I had never before been so far back into La Primavera and it seems we arrived right at the perfect time to witness a scene that encompasses what I want to say about Mission Miracle #5: gratitude.

At the top of the large, steep hill, the cinder block houses gradually give way to huts constructed with little more than bamboo, plywood and sheet metal. Back here, the huts do not have running water and many don’t have electricity. Since water is essential for living, the people who live here have large tanks or big oil drums along the side of their house in order to store water. The tanks are dirty and stained a stale yellow from the sun but they hold life for the people. These are the poorest.

A water truck comes once a week from the city, travels up the long, steep hill and fills the storage containers at these houses. The trucks have the markings of the local water company but I believe their efforts are subsidized by the government or something. Truthfully I don’t know.  But what I do know is that the day of the week when the water truck comes can be very stressful. Everyone was outside watching the truck climb the hill and they were all very intense. I asked what was happening and a stranger explained that the previous week the truck couldn’t make it up the hill because the road was muddy from a few rainstorms the days before. Water was low in the tanks and the families were worried.

As I watched the truck creeping up the hill, the motor was groaning and the tires struggled to grip the pebbles and dust. The truck climbed slowly, then more slowly, and finally could advance no further and stopped. “Oh no, it can’t be!” The water was simply too heavy for the truck to continue advancing to the parts where it was needed most. The driver and his sidekick got out, evaluated the situation, looked around with expressions of reservation, and then opened the valve. The water rushed out of the truck and down the hill, quickly turning the dust and dirt into a soupy, orange sludge. It is an image I will never forget. Nor will I ever forget the sounds of crying, abandoned babies, left alone in front yards or just inside homes, their mothers' attention more focused on securing water for their homes. So many were crying.

Try to imagine the lives and thoughts of these people. What would it be like to watch the water you so desperately need, escaping away, and running down the hill? How much water would the men have to release to be able to continue the climb? And would there be enough left for everyone in the home? Will there be enough to drink? To cook? To wash clothes or clean? And if there is not, how much will it cost in money and effort to bring drinking water to the family until the truck comes again next week?
Back home in the US, I imagine it’s rare for any of us to ever be reduced to this level of “survival”. We live so, so well. I know I’ve never had to ever worry or ask myself these types of questions. Our country is so great and so advanced and so many of us don’t even know it.

Miracle #5 for me is that I’ve been deeply impacted here and feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for everything we have back home. A gratitude I didn't fully feel before. I will forever be thankful for being me and for having grown up in such a wonderful place as San Diego and in such wonderful conditions. Treasure every blessing we have. Be thankful. Our lives are amazing.

Love - EE

Week 94 - The Miracle of a Cause (Lift Where You Stand)

Dearest friends and family,

Miracle #4: My mission and Ecuador have taught me to lift everywhere I stand. And have endeavored to do that and, in the process, also learned to accept being lifted by others.

I really like Quito. I lived there for 6 months and there are lots of Church members and converts there who made a huge impact on my mission and my life. I’m familiar with the weather there, the food, I know the bus system, and I can navigate to and from key mission locations. Everything about Quito feels normal and right. We had awesome trainings on Tuesday at the monthly mission council and I was so happy to be back in Quito.

After our council meetings, we went to visit a special family, the Campo’s, who we taught, baptized and brought back to Church in February. The message we shared and visiting with them was great and brought back many fond memories of great discussions and evenings in their home. After teaching, we purchased 2 Vecinos Pizzas (only $13.50!) and headed back to the house. The major surprise of the trip was when Elder Castagno arrived at the luz apartment with his trainee companion. The dates of the mission council overlapped with the 1^st verifications of trainees. It was so great catching up on the last 2 months of mission life. It is amazing knowing that we are both doing so well.

Being in Quito helped me remember and focus on the 4^th miracle of my mission: understanding the need to lift wherever I stand. Looking around during the council meeting, I realized that there were many new mission leaders. In the same way, there are many of us older mission leaders dispersed all around the mission lifting: some are district leaders, others are training. It was especially emotional listening to the last testimony of Elder George (who goes home in 2 weeks). I sat there pondering how we are all in this together. We all have the same goal, we all belong to this larger something that is much bigger than any one of us alone. We are all standing in different places, but each of us needs to lift.

Talking to Elder Castagno later that evening only drove the point home further. It brought me such joy hearing about his efforts to lift in Cotocachi. He and his companion are doing well and have people ready for baptism, as do we. We talked about how little time we have left, how we’re helping other missionaries, about the successes and adventures we’ve enjoyed, about the successes and adventures that lie ahead, about the blessings of God and the mysteries of life. Essentially we talked about how amazing the mission has been to us. It was an incredible trip!

I declare that great joy is found in belonging to and working toward something that is so much larger than any one of us. Look for and find a cause! Participate in it and love it! And don’t forget about the important contributions to the causes you are already a part of (namely lifting, supporting and building up family). I pray that we can all glory in lifting wherever we stand. Lift, with all of you might. And always lift with love.

EE

Week 93 - The Miracle of Simplicity

To my friends and family,

So miracle #3 of my mission: simplicity. Simplicity has forever changed the way I live and observe the world.

As I have been thinking about how I want to structure this letter about the third miracle of my mission, I am inspired to start by sharing about another family that is yet again impacting my life. I will change their names.

Hermano Moreno is someone we met through his next-door neighbor, a lesser-active member of the church. The first time I met Hermano Moreno he was really sweaty. He had recently arrived home from his work as a maracuya (a.k.a. passion fruit) salesman. He has a little red truck and a beard that results from shaving less than once a week. He leaves at 6am each morning, drives his truck to the farms in the rural areas of Esmeraldas, buys 3 sacks each full of 100 maracuyas and then sells them 10 for $1 to anyone and everyone willing to buy. Sometimes he parks his truck to sell them on the side of the road. Other days he drives up and down the neighborhood streets seeking customers. When I met him, he explained that he had made $15 for his efforts, which was a good day. He explained that to feed his wife and daughter each day, he needs $1 of plantains, $1 of eggs, $2 of rice, $4 of chicken and $2 of vegetables to add flavor and nutrients. He was happy to have made his $10 for the next day. “And the other $5,” I asked? "That’s to put gas in the truck, so I can do it all again tomorrow."

Hermano Moreno typically gets home around 4:30pm, hugs his daughter, eats a leftover maracuya, and is all smiles as he shakes our hands. He is a great guy. His house is made of cinder blocks, stacked roughly 10 rows high. The house has 3 rooms and a kitchen. He doesn’t have doors separating the rooms and the floor is concrete. He has a refrigerator, a stove and a microwave and enough furniture to seat 6. Instead of glass windows, he has holes cut out of the cinder block walls covered by metal grates so no one comes in, and bed sheets hung for some privacy. He has enough clothes to only have to wash them once a week. He has 6 plates, 3 cups, a few forks, knives, spoons and pots to cook and eat, a pitcher to put some juice, a simple cell phone for emergencies, a bed, a bed for his daughter, and some linens. And that is all. Like really, that is everything he owns. I just fit everything he has owns in less than a paragraph. Think of how many things we have back in the states. How many pages could you fill just talking about house things, car things, personal things, work things, or school things? Just stuff?

I told Hermano Moreno that I am from California and he was impressed. He said he would really enjoy living there. Hearing him say this is what impacted me the most. I thought for a moment and then asked, “really?” I told him that I would one day go back there but that I would be taking with me as much of “here” as possible. He smiled again, looked at his wife, and said, “yeah, we do live good here. But I’d still like to see California.” His daughter came out of the backroom with another maracuya and hugged her father. The hug was so calm, joyful, and satisfied.

I’m not saying that I want concrete floors or that I’ll be looking for opportunities to wash my clothes by hand when I return home. And I recognize the blessing of the millions of things that make life so great in the United States. But I am saying that for the last two years of my life my list of “stuff” hasn’t been much longer than Hermano Moreno's and I’ve really grown accustomed to it. I appreciate more and see the practical purpose of everything I have. To be honest, having so little gives me a lot of inner peace and satisfaction. I know my place, I know my purpose, I know what I have to do everyday, and I have no problems focusing on it. I feel really organized, efficient, and productive.

Miracle #3 of my mission is not that I’ve learned to live in conditions like those of Hermano Moreno, but rather that I’ve grown to appreciate the satisfaction and bliss that comes from living simply. Don’t feel like you need to throw everything away to get your possessions down to a half-page list of stuff, but do evaluate what you have and consider applying the principle. I’ve become a really happy, simple, guy. I love you all!

- EE

Week 92 - The Miracle of Diligence

To my friends and family,

Miracle #2 of the mission: learning the benefit of diligence.

6:28 AM… 6:29 AM… 6:30 AM…beep…beep…beep. It’s 6:30 AM, the alarm is blaring and I’m already jumping out of bed, saying my morning prayers, and starting 30 minutes of exercise. There is no time to waste because we have something scheduled to do every minute of every day.

Sometimes I feel a little sluggish in the mornings…my body is tired and I know I won’t be returning to my no-pillow, no-blanket bed for a long 16 hours. This is when I most feel the greatest temptation of “oh, just a few minutes more” and “oh, it is just so early.” It is in these moments that I have to remind myself of the “why.” And that is miracle #2 of my mission: I have learned the why. The answer is diligence. Diligence is the pathway to overcoming laziness and a lack of progress and finding success and satisfaction through hard work. For me, diligence is what makes hard work worth it.

For a time, Elder Chavez and I went running in the mornings. I enjoyed it a lot in the beginning but after five or six weeks we missed a day or two due to rain and we really lost our groove. We were working really hard every time we would leave the house to run but without the diligence of “every day” we didn’t notice any important progress.

I’ve noticed it’s the same way with almost every task we perform. I have to apply diligence every day to my studies if I want my knowledge to grow and build. I have to diligently speak with everyone we meet to be able to find Bladimír this past week. I have to diligently keep a good attitude about the humidity every hour of every day for it to not wear me down. Almost always it’s when we’re feeling most discouraged and lazy that we need to be the most diligent.

That is what it is really all about for me. If I continue to do things like studying, working, trying to forgive, trying to be a better missionary, son, and person then I only need to be diligent in my efforts to improve. I can’t give up and be discouraged. And even if I feel like not being diligent, I can just fake a good attitude until it becomes a real part of me. It’s interesting how the mind works like that. I love you all.

- EE

Other tidbits:

• Next Friday we have our zone conference and I’m super excited for that. Then I travel to Quito on Monday the 4th for mission Council on the 5th. I spent 6 months in Quito and it almost feels like home when I get off the bus there. The air is so clean and fresh air! I’m super excited about it.
• I’ve been on a constant battle to keep my things clean because mold is attacking really badly. It grows on everything. I’m praying that my clothes can make it another ten weeks!  If we don’t wash things regularly, they get moldy quick. Two days ago I spilled a drop of Coke on my desk and wiped it up and today mold had grown over the spot. Does anyone have any hints about that?
• Every week I look forward to your letters. Reading emails is one of my favorite parts of the week for sure. Allison, I thought a lot about you this week because of your birthday and everything. I haven’t felt sad about missing something or an event back home since you all went to New York…I kind of detached after that so that I didn’t feel sad. Well this week I don’t know why but I felt really sad about missing your 18^th birthday, it was a feeling I haven’t had any longtime. I hope everything was really great!

Week 91 - The Miracle of Sadness

 Dearest friends and family,

Miracle #1 of the mission: I have experienced very intimately just how necessary and beautiful sadness can be.

On Tuesday, I had a moment with one of my favorite families, la familia Cando, where we just talked for a bit about being a missionary. Hermana Cando was asking and teasing me about my video call home on Mother’s Day and she asked if I cried when I saw my family. Their own daughter is currently about 5 months into her mission, serving in Peru. I thought the question was interesting and explained that I didn’t cry upon seeing my family but instead had an emotional few seconds mid-way through the call when I expressed my love for them and shared about some things I have learned out here that I will be applying for the rest of my life to help us grow and continue to support each other.

As we chatted and laughed (Hermana Cando later confessed they all cried during their call), I became really thoughtful and quiet and those thoughts have stayed with me even up to now as I start to write this letter. Before the mission, I used to always avoid, fear and push away sadness as soon as it started to enter my mind. This was a constant goal: focus on good vibes, be chill and happy…all the time. Looking back, that was so dumb! I’ll never say it’s bad to want to be happy all the time but I realize now that, by covering up and avoiding sadness, I was limiting myself in feeling and enjoying the full emotional spectrum we humans are capable of feeling. Let me explain…

I remember being so sad and lonely in the beginning of my mission, especially during my training here in Esmeraldas. I’m sure you all remember my solemn “SOS” letters and could feel my anxiety during those early months. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t push the sadness away and that was really new for me. At the time my inability to push it away was a negative thing and made it worse. But I’m here to say now, looking back on it, it absolutely negative at all! Thanks to that deserted, real, deep, deep ache-inside-my-chest sadness I felt for being away from my family and all that I loved, I now feel like it really means something when I tell my family I love them…even to the point of making me involuntarily cry in middle of a video call home to wish my mom a happy mother’s day. What I have learned is that by experiencing deep and real sadness and despair, my ability to feel a real, and higher level of joy and love has developed and capacity increased. Sadness really is beautiful and is so important.

Now I don’t feel sadness as often as I did back then. I’ve learned to recognize when it’s coming my way, to let it in for a bit to remind me those feelings are still a part of me, and then let it go. I’ve noticed that by doing that I’ve become more adept at feeling compassion and empathy towards others. It’s like I was walking around covered with emotional plastic wrap and my mission has helped me finally peel it all off and feel and enjoy the fresh air of all of my emotions for the first time. I sense deeper, richer and more meaningful feelings and I can relate and comfort others more readily.

Don’t fear sadness. Don’t be so quick to push it away either. Recognize it, let it in and then let it go. Appreciate it for what it’s worth. I know it will bless your lives because it is a miracle that has abundantly blessed mine.

With love,

- EE