About the Blogger. Photography. Film Reviews. Contact Me.

Mar 23, 2011

You Know You're a Missionary in Italy When..

Well, it was an exciting week. I am going to apologize now for how this email ends up because we have speaking only Italian this week* which means my English is going downhill fast. Its hard to think/speak in English. I am going to be one of those people when I get back...

*Of course as soon as you decide to speak only Italian you get an appointment with the one American lady in the ward. She was awesome and fed us chocolate chip cookies. But she is definitely ready to return to America. So, no worries mom, I think I'll hold to the promise I made about not marrying an Italian.

Well, life in Italy is magical. I am convinced that I see the same people all the time and we are pretty sure that Bari is actually the Truman show and that God is just playing one big joke on us. The other day on our way to Adelfia I talked to this lady on the bus who told me that we are all gods because the scriptures say god knows how many hairs are on our heads and only WE can know how many hairs are on our head to which I thought, I have no idea how many hairs are on my head. Anyway, she got off at a different stop...and then 30 minutes later when we are eating beans on the street (it happens) she walks by and waves and saltures me and then walks off.

And when we taught our favorite friend Francesca who is too afraid to leave her house but amazing at painting and stopped going to church when her mom died. She is always talking to us about this show "Misterio" that finally ended but where they use bible scriptures to prove that there are UFOs and other phenomenons like how people are going to have 120 microchips in them. At the end of the day Slla Foote said, "Well, she wont be in church tomorrow but meno male [at last] Misterio is over."

I gave a talk on Sunday. I think my Italian was awful but the members here are just gems and when I got back to my seat there was candy waiting for me...There is one Sorella. Sorella Valenti who always has candy and the Juan boys always go and ask her for it and Andres will say, "I dont know if he likes that kind" and walk all the way back to his brother Leo and then all the way back to Sorella and say, "No, he doesnt like that kind" It is so amusing to watch.

Our English Course students continue to entertain us as they argue about Italy and Japan and every other topic in broken English. Frank brought us foccaccia the other day even though...

Everyone thinks we are fat. The fat jokes never end. Whether its, "she can have more pasta because she is skinnier than you" or "you've eaten well lately" "you are fatter than you were last time" etc. etc. They are so blunt. It cracks me up. And yet they freak out when we say we only eat vegetables or a sandwich for lunch. the problem is that the pasta fat goes straight to your face. so even if my skirts are falling off I still look like the dough boy.

We talked to this other lady on the train and when we told her we know how to be happy she said, "is it a secret?" Once again everyone thinks we are running a secret church even though we put in all this effort to tell people about it.

I have been reading the Liahona loads lately. Its SO good. Turns out the prophets tell us exactly what we need to do...I just never really listened before. I feel like every day I have a Homer Simpson "DOH" moment when I realize that life is so easy. We are the ones who make it complicated. We could be so much happier if we just let ourselves be happy.

The church is true. I have holes in all my tights. I broke my watch and all our umbrellas. And we are loving, serving, and teaching our hearts out here in Bari.

Because it is the best.

Therefore, let us glory, yea, we will glory in the Lord; yea, we will rejoice, for our joy is full; yea, we will praise our God forever. Behold, who can glory too much in the Lord? Yea, who can say too much of his great power, and of his mercy, and of his long-suffering towards the children of men? Behold, I say unto you, I cannot say the smallest part which I feel.
-Alma 26:16

Sorella Laws


We went to a city called Alberobello...

and it was really windy as you can see.

There were tons of little houses called Trulli.

The story is that back in the day you wouldnt be taxed if your house didnt have a roof so they built houses where they could remove the roof if they needed to to avoid paying taxes. Typical.

And a group shot of all the Sisters in Bari. We had an activity about the Relief Society, it was, of course, delightful. I love them all.

So we went upstairs to our neighbor because the Sorelle from Taranto had stolen our phone and we see this lady making homemade pasta. And we were in awe. It was our favorite kind too. Orecchio. She was so cute and nice.

Sorella Footes bag: Panchetta (bacon) and a Book of Mormon.

The same day that we went upstairs and saw our neighbor making homemade pasta we turned down a street and saw a group of people cooking a GIANT pot of beans...In the middle of the street.

And of course they made us eat some.

It was a day where we really felt like we were in Italy
(not to mention later that day when we had a lesson in a pizzeria)

I forgot to mention lovely Sorella Magno.
I have mentioned her before and how she is made of legitimacy.
Even without hair.

No comments: