A Day In My {Missionary} Life: November 20th 2002

From my Missionary Journal on November 20, 2002

"Today=windy blustery raindrops
This morning=studies trying to keep warm and a new scarf!
This afternoon= lunch, palestra-ogle-ing...projecto homen [a non-Church affiliated program where we taught a few English classes] (Christmas review; vocab; Rudolph song; Hokey Pokey)...home for hot chocolate (her) & cevada (me)...out again to teach...umbrellas = wind= swoosh! Laughter and shivers...a 1° on the floor of a bedroom [first discussion taught]...correlation w/our fiel Bento [our ward mission leader]...a walk home with contentment...tomorrow is P-day!"

___________________________________________________
This is exactly how it reads in my journal [the grey text is added for clarification]--I wrote it with green ink. At the end of a long day, I tried to as often as possible--at least write down a few details of our missionary day. I knew that I would not remember the moments and schedules forever, but I could encapsulate some of it, by writing in a journal. I feel strongly about journal writing.*

This Portuguese rural street view was magical in real life and I can still feel it. 

I took 24 rolls of film with me to Portugal. It felt like a lot when I left and I used them sparingly to make them last. We weren't supposed to snap photos everywhere we went (we weren't tourists!) so I only have a small sampling to look at now. My missionary albums seem incredibly sparse, especially with the hundreds-per-month that I take now and store on my computer.

It is too bad I can't have a photo of every place and face...but even still. With a single shot (like the one above), I can close my eyes for a moment and imagine myself there. I can remember the brisk wind on my face and how it felt to skip around puddles of mud. I can remember the feel of cobblestone beneath my shoes and the sunlight arching angelically between the trees...just like that one day shown above.

I can remember large doors, the ominous cathedrals, and  the azulejos (Portuguese blue painted tile)...

Azulejos on a small cathedral...I'm in a matching blue hue

I can remember that day--November 20th, eleven years ago (I can remember, because my journal can refresh my memory). I remember that day was my first experience with my umbrella flying inside out--swoosh! I thought that only happened in cartoons! I laughed so hard. With time, I became quite skilled at tilting my umbrella (though I went through several) toward the wind to avoid such a thing.

On a bridge, in the rain. Coat, gloves, scarf, and a blown out umbrella. Still smiling.

I heard someone say this past Sunday that they take a day off of work every year on a certain date to commemorate the last?first? day of their missionary service years ago. He said he would take his missionary journals and go somewhere quiet all day long to read and to remember. 

I loved that. I think there are many experiences that we have in our journey that are for our enrichment and growth. If we take time to remember them, they can enhance our lives even many years down the road.


*I have posted about journal writing before. Two offerings:  HERE -J is for Journal and HERE-Thankful Thurs 10.08.09.  It is important! Write/type/blog!







Every day in November!  NaBloPoMo: National Blog Posting Month. Write a post on your blog every day in November. For the 3rd year, I've decided to tackle this challenge & enjoy the opportunity to switch to writing mode. Want to join me? Leave your blog link in the comments so I can follow you too!

Lead, Kindly Light {What I Was Doing Eleven Years Ago}

This week—11 years ago.

{A short version which might seem long.}

 

Sister Jackson

The last Sunday (Sept. 29^th) in the Provo MTC felt like an out of body experience. It was the next-to-last day of my 8 week training period before I would be across the ocean and dropped into my new home: Portugal—and I was trying to balance my varied emotions. I remember singing with my district (a tradition—to sing with your district the last Sunday in the MTC) in Porguguese--“Brilha Meiga Luz” (Lead Kindly Light) and bore testimonies. That hymn became sacred for me that Sunday and has since been a tender favorite.

Lead, kindly Light, amid th'encircling gloom;

Lead thou me on!

Advice that I wrote in my journal included a message from Brother Fillmore: “Continue in your gospel study for the best intellectual study you will ever find” I loved that quote and it has come to my mind many times since then. I have found it to be true. Scriptural study is enlightening and offers a spiritual power that cannot be earned in any other means of study.

MTC District

The Monday (Sept. 30^th) before our departure was chaotic at best. We had a long list of To Do’s (written on our makeshift chalkboard (the plastic on an unwrapped mattress in our room)) including laundry, bookstore, copy center, sewing sisters, organize, pack, package stuff to send home, Thank you notes, letter writing, hair cut,  last from-the-MTC letters (many!), re-packing, re-organizing, weighing bags, taking things out, turning in keys, and I ended up sleeping from 2:30am-3:30am after a full day of running. Non-stop last-minute action.

Sister J & Sister J: scrambling to get it all packed up!

We lined up early Tuesday (Oct. 1^st) morning outside building 1M --still dark and now raining—to wait for the bus to pick up the outgoing group of nametagged, anxious Elders & Sisters. It was strange to look out the bus windows and see so many familiar locations in Provo/Orem…and realize that was the last for a long while. The rain pounded hard as we unloaded at the airport and at the United Airlines desk my cheerleading crew (Kendra, Debbie, & Trevor) ran up to me—I felt a rush of calm. Trevor gave me a new, specially made CTR ring and told me he is moving home to Kentucky. My friends showered me with travel goodies and I talked to Mom and a few others on a cell phone before we loaded our first flight. 

Goodbye handshake with Trevor {awkward at best}

SLCà ChicagoàGermany

(where the passenger next to me said “Oh you have a badge, that must mean you’re important”)

à Oporto, Portugal.

Describing the feelings upon walking through airport customs and seeing my mission president & his wife for the first time: “I didn’t know whether to cry or laugh or smile. So I smiled.”

President & Sister Soares: Mission Home in Oporto, Portugal 

The night is dark, and I am far from home;

Lead thou me on!

From my journal on Wednesday October 2nd: “There are 15 Sisters in our mission today, 4 of us are new today. They received all new sisters in July, August, & October—so we’re basically all new. There are 115 Elders.”

Sister Missionaries: Oporto, Porto Mission {October 2002}

“The drive [from the airport to the mission home] was about 20 minutes, not through any big city area, but quaint…laundry hanging up, green trees, small European cars, people smoking, a few bridges, some cool designs with tiles on the outside of buildings…I was trying to drink it all in, but mostly was trying to orient myself…cobblestone streets, colorful buildings, blue-purple flowers…so beautiful!”

That first night we enjoyed a delicious meal and little devotional with President & Sister Soares. We each received a polished rock and a reminder that we are starting out like rough stones, and we will be polished through our experiences & the Savior’s invitation to grow, change, and serve with love. I can still remember going to sleep that first night in Porto. The heaviness of my tired eyes sharply contrasted the excitement in my willing feet.

Keep thou my feet; I do not ask to see

The distant scene--one step enough for me.

Thursday (Oct. 3^rd) I woke up in a daze. “I’m in Portugal—Braga here I come! I’m not really sure if I really know what this means—I’m here—and my job? We get up at 7am and are out until 10pm, bed by 11pm. I hand washed my dress last night—I wanted to wear it today because it’s so easy and then I don’t have to iron.”

My first companionship was a ‘tripla’—there were three of us Sisters serving together (instead of the typical two) and we were living and working in the beautiful, hillside, historic city of Braga. It is the third largest city in Portugal and the furthest area in our mission in which Sister missionaries could serve.

Trains, buses, taxis...no bikes for these missionaries!

We rode two different trains to get to our apartment, dropped off my bags and went to Loja de Sopas for dinner before walking a couple of miles to an appointment. I taught principles 3 & 4 in the 2^nd palestra. I was terrified but stumbled through it. Before going to bed I wrote in my journal “I don’t think I’ve walked so much in a big city before…my feet ache! And I’m excited about that.”

So long thy pow'r hath blest me, sure it still

Will lead me on

Friday (Oct. 4^th) I woke up for the first time in my first missionary apartment—at 6:55am. It was an older apartment, up at least one flight of stairs. I remember the outside traffic sounds I could hear in the office and the huge closet in an empty room across the hall where I unpacked my clothes.

From my journal that first day in Braga: “We went to email at a local library for emails and on the way 1)I almost stepped in dog poo (note to self: watch out!), 2) an old man with no teeth stopped us and said I have no idea what, 3) all the old ladies where dresses & heels. At the grocery store I noticed TONS of yogurt, milk in cartons (that can stay on the shelf), no one bags your stuff, and lots of amazing chocolate. Shopping means walking home with lots of groceries which was new & strange. We taught part of the 1^st discussion to a Brasilian lady and her baby Philipe…then also to Luis who believes in reincarnation and loves to talk. We walk everywhere. I can’t believe it.”

Uphill, downhill...cobblestones

O'er moor and fen, o'er crag and torrent, till

The night is gone

Saturday (Oct. 5^th) “We left and walked up around the centro to Alena’s house—Her two kids were home alone when we stopped by so we shared with them some scriptures. It was cool to hear these two kids speak Portuguese so fluently and I tried to visualize each word as Ruben & Marisa spoke. I have so much to learn. They live in such sad circumstances...”

Braga Centro

“…we walked through the centro. I love it! It is so beautiful! Shops, stores, market stops, a fountain—quaint and a tad touristy…o minho is the area we’re in and I’m falling in love. I’m so glad we get to live in this part of Braga!”

Braga Centro

“We knocked doors & doors & doors & doors until our appointment with Florenzee. She has dark curles, mysterious eyes, welcoming smile, & a Brasilian ambiance. She is here for work & school but has a few issues with what we’re teaching. Let’s just say…her current employment is in nighttime entertainment.  It was easy for me to get lost in the conversation between the thick Brasilian accent and her slight lisp, but she is so eager to learn and read scriptures with us. We then continued to knock doors until we got to our other compromisso with “the Brasileiros”. I guess the Sisters found them earlier this week, we taught the 1° again—4 rapazes (boys) & 1 rapariga (girl)…they seemed intent and curious. The most marvelous thing—the feelings you feel while teaching are amazing. Even when I’m so nervous. The things I DO know how to say are the most important. Eu sei que… (I know that…”)

And with the morn those angel faces smile,

Which I have loved long since, and lost awhile!

 

Balcony of our Braga Apartment

That first week as a sister missionary in Portugal

 was intense

{physically, emotionally, & mentally}

I was given opportunities to push myself

And feel the love of God

Lead me on

Through the truths we were teaching

And the people to whom we were ministering.

And learned more about myself than I ever will again in such a short period of time.

I fell in love with all things Portuguese

And what it means to follow that ‘kindly light’

Which has been the greatest of all the lessons ever taught or learned by missionaries worldwide.

...

I loved to choose and see my path; but now,

Lead thou me on!

...

Lyrics from Lead,Kindly Light

Found hFound hereere

A Day In My {Missionary} Life: Feburary 9th, 2003

From my journal Sunday February 9, 2003 {living in Rechousa, serving in Valadares branch}

"So yesterday was a challenge. I thought a lot about what I'm doing here and why. I sincerely hope I never have a companion that I really don't get along with because this is hard enough! I'm sure there is something integral I am to learn...and I'm searching for it.

We walked a lot yesterday! Up hills, around corners, behind construction, in between roads, and under bridges...and taught a wonderful palestra in the morning!"

A sign along the road--one of our busy walking days--notice the cobblestones.
I think I tripped on them more than any other missionary in our mission.

I remember those busy days of walking. Our mission was a no-bike mission and only a few sets of missionaries had access to vehicles. I never had one, and though we did use the public transit fairly often (bus, taxi, & train) --we did a significant amount of walking in each of my areas. 

I was extremely glad we didn't have bikes--in my mind riding a  bike around skinny roads and cobblestone streets, with a skirt on, and carrying a bag, just sounded extremely awkward and probably dangerous. Can you imagine? Riding a bike makes me feel like I'm going to fall over at a any time...much more so with those conditions.

I remember those very first days as a missionary, walking around Braga and coming home with tired, achey, blistery feet. While the pain was annoying, I was excited about the distances we were covering and the goals we were reaching for. 

There were times in each city I lived in that walking took up a lot of our time. When we were walking through busy areas, we would take the opportunities to talk with those who would stop when we greeted them. I got used to being ignored fairly quickly, and learned ways to make connections quickly to get more out of those contacts. When we were walking through more rural areas, we had time to make plans for our visits, discuss things on our minds, entertain each other, and strengthen our friendship/companionship.

Sometimes those walks were great opportunities to discuss challenges as well. Clearly from this journal entry, my companion & I were having a rough time. I remember I annoyed her about something and it set off a bigger discussion about the way things were being done. 

Much of it boiled down to personality, experience, and culture. Sister P was my first native Portuguese companion and we realized we had different expectations of each other. Once our emotions came to a boiling point and we hammered it out, our ability to work together came much more easily. We understood each other better and we tried to be more compassionate toward each other. This was one of the great lessons of my experience as a missionary--how to live with another person, learn from each other, and the actual work it takes to love someone by serving them.

Often we face challenges,

some times they include long walks

or steep hills

Some times those we are walking with

don't quite understand 

where we are coming from

and these are the moments 

when we can stop, listen, & love.

I needed this reminder

especially after  this last week

at my house.

More on that on the fam blog: HERE.

A Day in My {Missionary} Life Series: Revisiting memories from my missionary adventures in Portugal--one day at a time. This year marks 10 years since I returned from my fast-paced, emotion-packed missionary life. I'll be sharing photos from my cheap camera, paragraphs from my tattered missionary journals, and bringing to life some of the memories that, while bright in my heart, are becoming dim in my mind. 

A Day In My {Missionary} Life: February 1st, 2003

From my journal February 1, 2003 Saturday {serving in Valadares branch}

"We taught 5 unplanned palestras today! Sofia marked a baptismal date! We helped Gina clean her house! I sewed tights w/holes with blue thread! The Ave Marias from  yesterdays autocarro ride (missa via radio) still mumble empty in my head & a palestra w/Dona Margarida and her fairy tale castle house almost drowned all of my energy today--but! No correlecao! One stressful thing to put out of my mind."

Sis. J: This was a mini village that we passed through on our walk from our apartment
in Rechousa over to the capela in Valadares. {January 2003}

I must have been exhausted, sounds like a very busy Saturday. I remember Saturday nights in that particular area, we were usually busy calling members of the branch who had cars to give rides to those who said they wanted to come to Church on Sunday. There was a small selection and Sis. P always made the calls (I was not confident in my Portuguese yet--especially on the phone!)...it was a frustrating process. I remember thinking then that when I was home again I would always offer rides when needed. I have not lived in a ward with those kinds of needs until now where we are in MN.

Five unplanned 'discussions' must have felt awesome. At that time we were still using designated outlines with points to cover to count as a full 'discussion'. By that time, I was still learning the ways to explain things and the questions to ask to really get a good conversation flowing. I relied a LOT on Sis. P and I was grateful to be serving with her to refine my language skills. She is from Lisboa  (southern Portugal--more urban) and often made comments about the dialect/pronunciation differences in the north, which was fascinating to me (much like the differences between the 'north' and 'south' in the U.S.).

I remember helping Gina clean her house. Gina was a member--with a welcoming smile, trusting eyes, tired wrinkles, and dark hair pulled back. She was a single mom who spent all of her extra energy to provide a nice home and extras for her two (spoiled) teenaged sons. The boys "helped" a bit while Sis. P & I hurriedly  dusted, vacuumed, and cleaned the glass surfaces. The younger of the two sons had his music blaring from his room while we worked. It was American rapper Eminem --I was the only one really affected by the tone in the offensive words because the sharp meanings didn't really register to the ears of the non-native English speakers (at least not with the same emphasis it did for me).

I do remember feeling quite "domestic" to be fixing tights with a needle & thread (where normally I would likely have thrown them away). They were my favorite--thick, black, best for cold February days. I could not risk not finding a good replacement. The only thread I had was bright blue--so I darned them up and wore them that way for the rest of the cold months. They became a symbol to me of the hard work & long hours I was putting in every day--and the new skills of "making do" in my simplistic missionary life.

The "Ave Marias" that I mention (sometimes my journal entries seem dramatic/cryptic/poetic...a common theme in my stacks of journals) were from the Catholic mass & prayers that was regularly played in the evenings on the radio. Some buses tune into them and that was the case with the one we had ridden the day before--lots of repetitive, mumbling words--or at least that was my perception.

Unfortunately, I have no recollection of a fairy tale castle house--but the idea of it sounds lovely, doesn't it? I should have explained that one...perhaps it was a beautiful house with collections of ancient grandeur? One thing is for sure, the correlation meetings in that area were not ideal and in addition to the very long walk to get to the chapel, they almost always left us frustrated. Thus, my relief that it had been cancelled for that day.

Sis.J--this is my bed--where I wrote in my  journal many nights!
 (Jan. 2003: Rechousa, Portugal)

Those scribbled words on Saturday night probably took two minutes to write down but open a little window to that 

busy, cold February first--ten years ago today.

May we remember to rejoice in the unplanned, offer our hands of service with a smile,

mend that which is broken,

and put stressful things out of our minds.

A Day in My {Missionary} Life Series: Revisiting memories from my missionary adventures in Portugal--one day at a time. This year marks 10 years since I returned from my fast-paced, emotion-packed missionary life. I'll be sharing photos from my cheap camera, paragraphs from my tattered missionary journals, and bringing to life some of the memories that, while bright in my heart, are becoming dim in my mind. 

A Day in My {Missionary} Life: Last Sunday

This morning (01.27.13), I went to missionary correlation meeting. I could write a post about the meeting itself (we have 3 sets of missionaries and 1 senior couple serving in our area--only 1 of those 4 sets serving in our ward boundaries is assigned to native English speakers...awesome!), but my post is about that last Sunday.

Today was one of our Elders' last Sunday as a full-time missionary for the Church. He has been in our ward for 4 months (serving the Nepali people) but has made the difference of much longer. In 3 days he will be back home. As he shared his final bits of wisdom and testimony with those of us in the meeting, I was overwhelmed with the feelings I remember from my last Sunday as a full-time missionary in Portugal.

I remember the emotions of that day like it was last week. We had 5 baptisms planned for that afternoon. One of them actually happened, and was a beautiful gathering. My heart was over-saturated with emotions--the most intense kind of joy mixed with the most intense kind of sadness.

Unfortunately, I did not write down paragraphs of journal entries about that emotional day (or week), but I did write down highlights  (and a few quotes from goodbyes from members) on orange post it notes that I stuck in my  journal...convinced that I would make time to embellish and record at some later date.*

Post-it Note List from January 4, 2004 

"No water, then: cold water--called Gaia 2...AMAZING testimony meeting

Julia, Carlos, Edite & Jorge, 

Tears, pics, rides, Gaia 2 Martins Fam

Dressed Pics, ,Start, 

Rui Braga : "dia especial... tribute to Sister Jackson"

baptism-wow. Testimonies from Josely & Janiny

Nuno Corte-Real "Don't worry about Fa. Gomes-you did your part"

Rui Braga: "I feel the Savior has accepted your work"

Bispo: "Look around--Carlos, Julia, Janiny, Josely."

Carlos: "I'll never leave--you've done your work--continue on your work won't finish here."

Julia: "You are perfect. Everything you do--thank you."

Swarmed! Emotions...wow. I'm exhausted. Must pack."

Notes today (upon reading these post-it notes for the first time in 10 years)

1. I had forgotten that we had to re-locate to the other ward  building for Janiny's baptism. That clarifies my confusion--I do remember it but did not recall why we weren't at the Gaia 1 building. Also, I imagine that made the mix of emotions even more explosive since all of the expectations were being thrown out the window...one at a time.

2. On the post it note for the Friday night before, dramatically & unfortunately, all I wrote down was "HELL". I know exactly what happened that night but I don't remember very many details. I can tell you that it was one of the top most heart-wrenching experiences of my entire life. A very dear family that I had been teaching and loving for months, and who was scheduled to be baptized on my last Sunday, decided that it was not what they wanted and asked me to leave their home. I remember crying as we discussed their feelings, on our walk home, on my phone call with the mission president, and much of that night. My love for them and the gospel was overwhelming and their rejection was equally so. I probably scared my companion, honestly. I hope she has forgotten more of the details from that night than I have.

3. My tears that Sunday were for the sweet family that I was missing but also for the missing I was already feeling for these beautiful, inspiring, lovely, incredible people that I had been learning and serving with. I had been in that same area for almost 10 months, and I would be leaving the very  next day. It was like saying goodbye to family.

4. I did forget about the special event of having a baptism on my last day and the energy of everyone sharing their memories, love, well wishes, and encouragement with me. I remember now. I felt so blessed to have one last gathering with those who had seen me grow, those who had served with  me, those who had learned as I taught, those who had fed me meals of soup and squid, those who had prayed for my success in finding people who were searching for truth. I am so grateful now to have that day as a balm for the hurt that I had been feeling that weekend before.

5. Janniny & Josely are sisters from Brazil. Sister T & I met and taught Josely during our first month together, and she was baptised with a strong conviction and love for the Savior. Within another month, she had moved to France and we didn't know how to find her. We called, visited her old apartment, and tried everything to get in touch with her. On some random walk on a sidewalk near the chapel, we got a phone call from Josely--she told us where she was and what she was doing. She said she would return. She did, and our visits were sporadic due to an overpowering aunt. At some later point, she introduced us to her sister, Janniny. Josely was there on my last Sunday and Janniny was baptized. I have lost track of these two beautiful sisters, but they come to my mind sometimes and I say a little prayer for them. Meeting with them, laughing with them, and learning with them are some of the brightest highlights of my missionary experience.

6. My last Sunday was wild. There were obstacles to climb over and challenges to put in their place. Testimonies were shared, compliments were graciously given, and goodbyes were whispered. The day was intense-- unique and appropriately culminating of all of the many variations of emotions a missionary will experience. I love that the sweetness of Janniny's baptism swallowed my sorrowing heart. I love that the members took the time to share with me their love. I love that it wasn't a perfect day but it was a blessed one. I love that many of my friendships from that time are still strong and uplifting. I love that I was given the opportunity to serve with all of my "heart, might, mind, & strength".

Sis. S, Janniny, Sis. J (moi), Josely {Last Sunday 01.04.2004}

*Let this be a lesson to us all: post it notes are better than nothing, but taking some time to write down details that you think you will  never forget is the only way you will, actually, never forget them.

A Day in My {Missionary} Life Series: Revisiting memories from my missionary adventures in Portugal--one day at a time. This year marks 10 years since I returned from my fast-paced, emotion-packed missionary life. I'll be sharing photos from my cheap camera, paragraphs from my tattered missionary journals, and bringing to life some of the memories that, while bright in my heart, are becoming dim in my mind.