This is the Rio Life!
Sister Nelson traveled from Sao Paulo to Rio de Janeiro on Monday, April 23, 2012.
We didn't receive an email for that week.
We didn't receive an email for that week.
Estamos no Brasil!
May 1, 2012 email
I did get to stay for the Elder Quentin Cook talk and left for Rio immediately afterward. I was really worried, though, because I hadn’t packed my language books or the load of laundry I had done yet. I WAS a good girl and packed on Sunday without even knowing that I would leave Monday, so THERE! I think I told you, the in-field training we had at the CTM was all in Portuguese. HEY! The enter bar doesn't work. The letters we get in our emails are all in Portuguese, and I pretty much just had a meltdown trying to read them. Then I read Troy’s email and cried even more. Sheesh. It doesn’t help that there aren’t any lights in this place.
Anyway, the Monday before we left [April 16] was FULL of stuff to do. Sheesh. We got to proselyte in Sao Paulo central area and had some cool experiences. The problem is… I don’t remember if I wrote about them in my journal or to you haha. I had a cool thought while we were walking around. I bet some ancestors gather here when they know the missionaries are unleashed and try to guide their kids to us. At that very moment, a lady walked by. I couldn’t tell if it was the excitement of the idea or if it was the real thing; but I really did feel like her ancestors were loudly whispering to me. I could almost see them hovering over her head, “TALK TO HERRRR right here!” I said more things than I usually did to contacts. I said, “Oi! Bom dia, tudo bem?” [Hi! Good morning. All right?] She smiled and said, “Tudo bom, e voce?” [All good. And you?] But that was all. Sad.
My first experience was on the bus. The man knew of missionaries and of the church and said something about “Oh, you don’t drink coffee, do you? Right?” I could smell coffee strongly on his breath as if he hadn’t brushed in a week, which he probably hadn’t. He then tried to explain to me that he didn’t believe in any other bible. He showed me Revelations and the word “amen.” I said I understand that word and laughed, but I didn’t understand that he was telling me he didn’t believe in any other bible. I asked if he prayed and such, but he kept asking me about my life and when I finish my mission. He asked if I had a boyfriend, and THEN I knew I was in trouble. He tried to give me a ring as a present; and I said, “I’m not the one for you.” He asked why I’m talking with him. I said I want him to come closer to Christ. He asked why I was here. I said I wanted to grow spiritually and tell people about God. I didn’t know what to do. I knew he would be a problem from the beginning when he quickly glanced at me and gave up his seat. Luckily Irmã [Sister] Korth was there to save me. She told me to contact another person and finished the conversation with the man. The man ran out of the bus at the next opportunity. I was disquieted. Then Elder Geigle noticed the disturbance of the situation but didn’t realize what had happened and was like, “You’re getting discouraged? Already?” I really wanted to slap him. He was the smartest in the district and had a good grip on the language. I snapped, “DON’T talk to me.” The moments after were insufferable.
Irmã Korth encountered a sweet man and handed him off to me. I bore my testimony about the Book of Mormon and he said some simple sentence. I had no clue what he said. Irmã Korth told me in English after he said it 3 times… and she did too… 3 times. He said, “You never lose time talking to missionaries.” How sweet. I still felt like crying after we got off the bus; but, luckily, I could hide in my companionship trio. Irmã Korth knew I was having a tough time and took me separately to contact some sweet old people, sitting around. Here, it really is like in the movies. There are just people sitting or standing around all day, doing nothing.
Anyway, the Monday before we left [April 16] was FULL of stuff to do. Sheesh. We got to proselyte in Sao Paulo central area and had some cool experiences. The problem is… I don’t remember if I wrote about them in my journal or to you haha. I had a cool thought while we were walking around. I bet some ancestors gather here when they know the missionaries are unleashed and try to guide their kids to us. At that very moment, a lady walked by. I couldn’t tell if it was the excitement of the idea or if it was the real thing; but I really did feel like her ancestors were loudly whispering to me. I could almost see them hovering over her head, “TALK TO HERRRR right here!” I said more things than I usually did to contacts. I said, “Oi! Bom dia, tudo bem?” [Hi! Good morning. All right?] She smiled and said, “Tudo bom, e voce?” [All good. And you?] But that was all. Sad.
My first experience was on the bus. The man knew of missionaries and of the church and said something about “Oh, you don’t drink coffee, do you? Right?” I could smell coffee strongly on his breath as if he hadn’t brushed in a week, which he probably hadn’t. He then tried to explain to me that he didn’t believe in any other bible. He showed me Revelations and the word “amen.” I said I understand that word and laughed, but I didn’t understand that he was telling me he didn’t believe in any other bible. I asked if he prayed and such, but he kept asking me about my life and when I finish my mission. He asked if I had a boyfriend, and THEN I knew I was in trouble. He tried to give me a ring as a present; and I said, “I’m not the one for you.” He asked why I’m talking with him. I said I want him to come closer to Christ. He asked why I was here. I said I wanted to grow spiritually and tell people about God. I didn’t know what to do. I knew he would be a problem from the beginning when he quickly glanced at me and gave up his seat. Luckily Irmã [Sister] Korth was there to save me. She told me to contact another person and finished the conversation with the man. The man ran out of the bus at the next opportunity. I was disquieted. Then Elder Geigle noticed the disturbance of the situation but didn’t realize what had happened and was like, “You’re getting discouraged? Already?” I really wanted to slap him. He was the smartest in the district and had a good grip on the language. I snapped, “DON’T talk to me.” The moments after were insufferable.
Irmã Korth encountered a sweet man and handed him off to me. I bore my testimony about the Book of Mormon and he said some simple sentence. I had no clue what he said. Irmã Korth told me in English after he said it 3 times… and she did too… 3 times. He said, “You never lose time talking to missionaries.” How sweet. I still felt like crying after we got off the bus; but, luckily, I could hide in my companionship trio. Irmã Korth knew I was having a tough time and took me separately to contact some sweet old people, sitting around. Here, it really is like in the movies. There are just people sitting or standing around all day, doing nothing.
When I stepped off the plane [April 23], I caught the whiff of real Rio air, Rio life. It smelled like sweat, salt, diapers, trash, and rotting sea animals. Woo hoo. There were tons of fans in the airport, which made this smell stick to me like Saran Wrap. Cool smiley face. I have since seen a green—yes, green—half of a cat and the guts and all of a rotting rat in a puddle. There’s just no way--no matter how paranoid you are--to avoid it. You WILL get worms… that is granted. [Love those intestinal parasites!] I just pray over everything—my food, my showers, my shoes, my bed, my hair—and then I get to work. I shake hands with vigor and don’t wipe off the spit from babies. “Estamos no Brasil.” [We are in Brazil.] |
There are men here who look at me weird. There is a constant blast of music and soccer balls everywhere. The first few days were hot, and the wind would plaster sand on you; but whatever. Estou no Brasil. [I’m in Brazil.] I love it. I love the people. And, holy cow, we had a baptism this Sunday. It was a 9-year-old whose grandparents and aunt (who is a teenager) are all members and his mom in not active. It almost fell through because his mom wanted to punish him for not doing his homework. He CRIED when he found out he couldn’t be baptized. Sister De Oliveira told him to pray; and when his mom came home, he was to bear his testimony to her. His mom came to the baptism and told Sister De Oliveira that she wants to come back to church. She cried and everything. We got an investigator to come to the baptism, and I tried to talk to her while Sister De Oliveira was talking to the mom. It was super awkward waiting. Gosh.
The food here is fab-o, and it only took me until Sunday for my tummy to love it and get used to the worms I probably have. Cool estou no Brasil. [Cool, I’m in Brazil.] Sister De Oliveira has been out as long as I have. She just separated from her trainer. She’s the youngest of her family and is 29. We’re both a bit timid when it comes to contacting, but she is such a great teacher!! Her problem is talking a little too much and mine is talking too little. But, sheesh, would the tables be turned if I could teach in English! I’m literally relearning everything I knew before… but in Portuguese. It’s crazy; because when I talk in English or write in my journal, my day is shot. Hahaha. I can’t understand or talk to people. Boo. I guess I’ll have to give up English entirely. Maybe when I call you, I’ll speak Portuguese. Get Agenor to interpret. [Missionaries are allowed two phone calls each year: Christmas and Mother’s Day.]
Golly! There is so much more I’d love to share, but I can’t. My p-days are Monday, but I had to go to the police to change my address yesterday. We left at 8 and got home at 8. Lol. Things are slower here; I’m even slower. I didn’t think I could think slower than I already do or… just everything. Even finding my smile is slower here. I don’t get it. Oh, so apparently when Brazilians are watching a soccer game and their team makes a goal, they let off fireworks lol. So, needless to say, there are fireworks pretty much all the time. The first time I encountered that was in the CTM on Easter, and I thought it was for an Easter celebration. Haha. Oh, Brasil.
I live with two other sister missionaries, who are assigned to another part of the stake. The stake center is a 40-minute bus ride. Holy cow. We also ate lunch at a person’s house, and it took us 20 minutes to walk there. That was the shortcut (with the dead cat). It’s a good thing my good shoes started off brown. I LOVE my chacos and my raincoat. Unfortunately, my umbrella broke the second time I used it; it doesn’t stay open. Oh, Costco.
The phrases I am known for are, “Yes, I am trying,” “Eh, estamos no Brasil,” and “muito obrigada.” This WILL change... hopefully hahaha. The members here don’t really talk to you if you don’t know the language. It’s so strange! You can understand everything they are saying up until they ask you a question, then you look like a dork. At times, honestly (and I need to still confess this to Sister DeO), I pretend I don’t know what they’re talking about because I don’t know how to say the things I want to say in Portuguese haha. But, having Sister DeO brag about me has helped me get in good with the members. This Sunday, ALL of our investigators came… and then some! We have a lot of work to do here. A LOT. It’s crazy that God trusts us to be together. We’ll have to stretch a lot. Sister Baker [Sister DeO’s trainer] was here for a bit with her parents. It’s going to be tough to fill her shoes. She’s an older sister to 6 siblings, so she knows how to—well—be a sister LOL. I have faith that the prayers for the missionaries will come my way. I have been sending them other ways, though, because—really—these people here just need to be physically cared for before they can worry about spiritual care. There was a lady, Sister Sonagueth, whom I visited after my first contacting experience. She’s a single mom of 9 kids. She’s skinny but strong. I wanted more than anything to help her. Every day I want to just go visit her and do her laundry or something. Oh, she is so loved. She was the first person I bore my testimony to. It was simple, and I pretty much repeated the same thing: If she puts God first, she will be blessed; and He will help her. I hope that helped.
Love yous!
P.S. On Friday, we went to Campo Grande, trying to find letters and gifts for Sister DeO’s family, for Dad’s birthday, and for Mother’s Day. There are NO postcards here or cards at all! I don’t get it. When we were in for the police yesterday, we were in the heart of Rio; and STILL no postcards. What the hey?
The food here is fab-o, and it only took me until Sunday for my tummy to love it and get used to the worms I probably have. Cool estou no Brasil. [Cool, I’m in Brazil.] Sister De Oliveira has been out as long as I have. She just separated from her trainer. She’s the youngest of her family and is 29. We’re both a bit timid when it comes to contacting, but she is such a great teacher!! Her problem is talking a little too much and mine is talking too little. But, sheesh, would the tables be turned if I could teach in English! I’m literally relearning everything I knew before… but in Portuguese. It’s crazy; because when I talk in English or write in my journal, my day is shot. Hahaha. I can’t understand or talk to people. Boo. I guess I’ll have to give up English entirely. Maybe when I call you, I’ll speak Portuguese. Get Agenor to interpret. [Missionaries are allowed two phone calls each year: Christmas and Mother’s Day.]
Golly! There is so much more I’d love to share, but I can’t. My p-days are Monday, but I had to go to the police to change my address yesterday. We left at 8 and got home at 8. Lol. Things are slower here; I’m even slower. I didn’t think I could think slower than I already do or… just everything. Even finding my smile is slower here. I don’t get it. Oh, so apparently when Brazilians are watching a soccer game and their team makes a goal, they let off fireworks lol. So, needless to say, there are fireworks pretty much all the time. The first time I encountered that was in the CTM on Easter, and I thought it was for an Easter celebration. Haha. Oh, Brasil.
I live with two other sister missionaries, who are assigned to another part of the stake. The stake center is a 40-minute bus ride. Holy cow. We also ate lunch at a person’s house, and it took us 20 minutes to walk there. That was the shortcut (with the dead cat). It’s a good thing my good shoes started off brown. I LOVE my chacos and my raincoat. Unfortunately, my umbrella broke the second time I used it; it doesn’t stay open. Oh, Costco.
The phrases I am known for are, “Yes, I am trying,” “Eh, estamos no Brasil,” and “muito obrigada.” This WILL change... hopefully hahaha. The members here don’t really talk to you if you don’t know the language. It’s so strange! You can understand everything they are saying up until they ask you a question, then you look like a dork. At times, honestly (and I need to still confess this to Sister DeO), I pretend I don’t know what they’re talking about because I don’t know how to say the things I want to say in Portuguese haha. But, having Sister DeO brag about me has helped me get in good with the members. This Sunday, ALL of our investigators came… and then some! We have a lot of work to do here. A LOT. It’s crazy that God trusts us to be together. We’ll have to stretch a lot. Sister Baker [Sister DeO’s trainer] was here for a bit with her parents. It’s going to be tough to fill her shoes. She’s an older sister to 6 siblings, so she knows how to—well—be a sister LOL. I have faith that the prayers for the missionaries will come my way. I have been sending them other ways, though, because—really—these people here just need to be physically cared for before they can worry about spiritual care. There was a lady, Sister Sonagueth, whom I visited after my first contacting experience. She’s a single mom of 9 kids. She’s skinny but strong. I wanted more than anything to help her. Every day I want to just go visit her and do her laundry or something. Oh, she is so loved. She was the first person I bore my testimony to. It was simple, and I pretty much repeated the same thing: If she puts God first, she will be blessed; and He will help her. I hope that helped.
Love yous!
P.S. On Friday, we went to Campo Grande, trying to find letters and gifts for Sister DeO’s family, for Dad’s birthday, and for Mother’s Day. There are NO postcards here or cards at all! I don’t get it. When we were in for the police yesterday, we were in the heart of Rio; and STILL no postcards. What the hey?