Blessed be the flexible

For they are never bent out of shape! 

Buono giornata! 

     That phrase "blessed be the flexible for they are never bent out of shape" is something that my mission president said when we had zone council this last Friday. It stuck with me, so I'm sharing it with all of you! the reason it stuck with me, is because they used me as an example to help them define for us what they meant by telling the whole zone about my emergency transfer up and how I handled that with literally zero problems. 

Pizzas eaten: 43

Gelato: 35

Book's of Mormon: 55

  

     Alright! I suppose I shall begin with the night of zone conference and then go from there to the rest of the cool things that happened this week. What occurred that night was more interesting than what occurred during that day. Here is why: we had to catch a bus to go home. The last bus out of town was in half an hour and the walk was about half of that. We made it on time, bought our tickets and then waited for about another half an hour because the busses are never on time when you want them to be, and always on time when you need them not to be. Welcome to Italy. 

     After we managed to get a seat on the bus, we were joined by about 15 Africans, and those guys are funny as heck to listen to when they talk because they speak something called "Pigeon" which is basically just dumbed down English, so after listening to them for about thirty minutes it all started making rather good sense to me. They are also very loud. And they like to snap. Which is also very loud. It was just what my companion and I needed however because we were both very tired and they kept us awake. 

     Then the storm rolled in. About forty five minutes before we got off the bus, a lightning storm rolled in and it was something that reminded me of Idaho quite a bit actually. After that, it was rain and all the usual things that happen in a storm. But, this time, when we were walking home we were yelled at by a homeless man who hates Americans (of which there are actually quite a few in Agrigento, I don't know why) and all he screamed at us was "you can't justify that!" three or four times before pushing past us and then just disappearing. 

     The next story of interest that I have for all of you is this: Tuesday night! As you all know by now, every Tuesday and Thursday night we teach English course and  love teaching them because it is so very fun. After course on Tuesday, we were invited to go and eat a pizza with the English course at a Sicilian pizzeria called "La Trizzera" which is siciliano for the kind of road it was built next to. A dirt one. We all ordered something and then è were told by the English course that they were going to pay for us, and we tried to give them our money but they wouldn't have it. 

     After our appetizers of fries and other fried things, our liter of coke in a glass bottle and some lively discussion (which I took part of in Italian because I can do that now) we were greeted with our pizza. I got my pizza last, and it was gone first. The Italians all thought my companion was joking when he told them I eat fast, but after that they had no trouble believing it. We ended up racking up a total of 156 euro I believe, and then everyone else but us started to have a beer or some limoncello. Limoncello is an alcohol made from the rinds of lemons or cantaloupe flesh, and is basically a tart lemon alcohol shot. 

     After our ride home had one or two of those, he drove us home. But along the way, we got some pictures of the Greek temples they have here in Agrigento. Good stuff! 

     On Friday, I was able to receive my first to letters in the mission since I got to Italy. They were from a seminary class in Rathdrum Idaho, and one of them was from my Sorella, Payton. The other was from her friend who's name escapes me at the moment. I appreciated those letters, and then went on to eat two canolli. Those things are very good, and also so very unhealthy for you. But that's ok, because they're Italian. Not the best logic, but I'm using it. 

     The last thing I have to talk about this email would be the spiritual experience of the week. Singing at an old folks home. Now, I love singing to old people, they're the best because even if you suck like I did (It appears I can't sing local Italian Christmas music or the local Sicilian Christmas music either) they love you for trying. And then they talk to you for a while about he things that they love, a dnwhen they see you don't speak super well, they laugh and pinch your cheeks while you Sem confused and then continue on with the story anyways. 

     There was one lady who beckoned me over while staring me down. I wasn't sure what was going on at first, because when we beckon people over to us with our hands in America, we do it palm up and then wave our fingers around. They do it palm down, and I almost looks like they are shooing you away. But they aren't. Her name was Maria, and she held onto my hand telling me how beautiful we were while we were singing, and that I was beautiful, then she kissed my hand and told me to grab my companion so she could talk to him. 

     She did that with every single person from the ward who came over to sing, and she made sure to do it again when we all started to leave. During this time, I was talking to an old Italian lady who has two kids in America, and even though I didn't understand much siciliano when she spoke, she was very happy that we were there and wanted to tell me all about her family and then made me promise I would come back sometime soon. I told her I would try to, and that led into me explaining to her what I was doing here as a missionary. 

     Long story short, old Italians are awesome and you need to visit the old people in your town because they love talking with you. Also, they're very nice. 

I won't have any pictures in this email, I'll send them out later this week because emails won't send if I add pictures due to our garbage wifi right now. 

Con amore, 

Anziano Anderson 

We did a Blitz!

Buongiorno tutti! 

     At least, it's morning where I am when I wrote this. Some fun stuff happened, some stuff that only happens when you are on a mission happened as well and I'll cover all of those things in this email. 

Pizzas eaten: 41

Gelato: 34

Books of Mormon: 55

Christmas In Italy

     Let me start by saying that christmas decorations here in Italy are rather awesome and they have more than just one holiday in the month of December. For example, last Friday it was Prenatel Coception Day where they celebrate Mary being pregnant without the help of a man. More or less. It's prettier then it sounds but it still sounds weird. They use it as a sort of labor day where everyone gets a day off and they do whatever they want, like what we do in the states. I'm in Sciacca right now as I type this, so I will include some of the cool Christmas decorations that I took pictures of at the end of this email. 

Blitz in Sciacca

     I haven't done much on my preparation days since I've been in Agrigento but let me tell you what we decided to do yesterday on Sunday. Anziano Tucker and I were sitting at our desks doing our studies and such when the phone rings. We pick up and the Anziani on the other line are blasting Pentatonic Christmas music. Promptly, we hung up. They called back immediately and told us that we should come down to Sciacca so we could blitz the city and then hangout with them for our preparation day. A blitz by the way, is when one or two pairs of Anziani from another city all go to one city and we hit the streets together, like how the TJ's do every Saturday. But there are less of us and more of them. Still, it's fun and no one knows when they will happen. 

     We managed to grab the only bus that was running from Agrigento to Sciacca and it left half an hour after we got the call. That meant we needed to get packed and b at the station in the next 15 because the bus left at 3. We got packed, and enjoyed the almost two hour ride up to Sciacca where we got off the bus in a rush as well because Italians don't mess around when it comes to their work. In my haste I forgot my toiletries on the bus so I'm just thankful that the Anziani here had a spare toothbrush for me. 

     After an awesome night of finding with a member from the ward here, we went to the Pier they have here. It's not like what you are thinking of, a wooden and dinky little thing. It took us ten minutes to walk from one side to the other and the whole thing is made of concrete. It's the kind of port where you can fit a whole fleet of tourist boats and still have room for more. It's one of the biggest ports in Sicilia. There are concrete blocks the size of four refrigerators all along the whole side to act as wave breakers. It was fun to run down that at night, with some pictures to follow. 

Transfer week! 

     Transfer calls happen today, and the members know it. They like Anziano Tucker a lot and every day for the past week they have called asking if we know if he's leaving or if I'm leaving. Every time they call we tell them that we won't know until Monday (today) and we'll call them when we do but they always forget that part and call us the next night between nine and nine thirty at night. We got our calls very early in the morning and Anziano Tucker and I are not going anywhere, we stay in Agrigento for another transfer. I think next transfer day he's going to be moved out and I'm going to either receive a new companion who has been here for a while or I'm going to start training, but we shall see. 

Cool thing of the week

     This week we also went to the mall that we have in Agrigento and we bought some hamburgers from burger King because we both wanted burgers that weren't half pork half beef and we needed light bulbs for the house. While we were sitting down enjoying our burgers (or rather, about to) an older, homeless man, ran up to me and put his hand in my face with the few coins he had in it and started tapping my tag semi-aggressively and gesturing to my food while breathing in my ear in his siciliano dialect, which I couldn't understand at all. I didn't know what to do so I just started eating and ignored him as best I could. After my third bite he backed away and looked hurt. Said something along the lines of "what kind of priest are you?" (rough translation, the real one is much coarser and not exactly e-mail appropriate) and then shuffled off. 

     Not more than 20 seconds after that old man left, he was replaced by another old man who was patting me on the shoulder and congratulating me for holding my own. He said something along the lines of "his mother didn't raise him right" and "good on you for holding your own" before he pinched my cheek and then wished us good fortune. Italians are fun. 

Italian Culture

     Aside from this, nothing extravagant happened this week. It was just a bunch of fun and little things in the italian culture that made me laugh a little bit when I noticed them. The traffic lights for example, are timer based and not sensor. Their version of "knock on wood" is "touch metal" and they won't shake hands over another person shaking hands because they don't want to form a cross with their arms. They will wait until the first people are done before they shake hands. They also have a bunch of fun little phrases that don't make sense in English without the context of why they say those things. One of them is "breaking boxes" which is what you say after someone has been chewed out for something they did. It's tantamount to the same. 

1. I got a watch for Christmas! 

2. One of the Sciacca Anziani wearing Christmas hat

3. Us at the end of the pier by the signal light

4. Sicilian Ladscape

5. A little video of the Christmas tree here in Sciacca

A somewhat average week (I guess?)

Ciao! 

     This week wasn't phenomenal in any seriously grand aspect, but I had some fun things happen and just some learning experiences in general that apply to missionary work and life in general. Nothing horribly profound, but good to know. 

Pizzas eaten: 41

Gelato: 33

Books of Mormon: 55

The right kind of people to talk to

     Well, as in might guess, on a mission where you go about spreading the gospel and talking to people and in a place where there have been missionaries for 20 years or so, it's only a matter of time before people realize who you are by the tags you wear and in the way you act. As a missionary, the people who sell nice clothes like suits and ties, dress shoes and other things are very big on trying to get your attention and they are the nicest pushy people that you'll ever meet. For example, last night I wanted to look at ties during a period of time in the night where there weren't many people around on the streets. I mentioned it to the lady who was working there and immediately she told me that my shirt collar (which is very American in style) would distract from the beautiful Italian ties that she was selling. 

     Long story short, were roped into an hour of trying on shirts that were too small for me because I'm very much bigger then the average Italian. And then we were shown the ties after she got our shirt sizes. That's the kind of person you talk to on preperation day. There are other people that just like to get wasted or smoke and are always on the streets because they either don't have a home or they just don't like their home life. I almost started talking with one of these people before my companion pulled me away telling me how he's one of the many like that. Later on I saw that come to fruition through someone else's first experience with him and was glad it wasn't me. 

     Then there are the people who act like they want to talk about the gospel but then they start hitting you with lesser known doctrine and end up just wanting to argue over a certain point. There are less of these that are well known among the missionaries and usually that's just what happens when you talk to people here that don't immediately shut you down or walk away. It's good though because those that do talk to you are usually interested and want to hear more, or at the very least invite you to their house for food. 

Grocery stores and Tellers in General

     One thing I've noticed since I've been here in Italy would be the lack of accuracy in the change given back. Something you need to know about the money here is this: they have coins for 1, 2, 5, 10, 20 and 50 cents. They have coins for 1 and 2 euros. They do not have paper bills for one and two euros. They have paper bills for 5, 10, 20, 50, 100, 200 and 500 euro. Also, everything is ade so that blind people can tell the difference between the change that they have. Which means, the more something is worth, the bigger it is. They also have a different design on the sides of all the coins so you can tell just by feeling it how much it's worth. For example, the 5 cent cin has a groove all around the edge while the 10 cent euro has ridges similar to a quarter in America.

     Nobody uses the 1 cent coin here and the 2 cent coin is weird to see. So if my change is for example: 23.23 I will get a 20 euro bill and either 25 cents back or 20 cents. Because the 1 and 2 cent coins aren't really used here. Funny how that works, but there you go. 

Agrigento in general

     Family history is awesome because it allows me to know where my family comes from, what they did during this life and where they lived. I thought it was cool when I got called to Italy that I was going back to where my mother's side of the family comes from and not only the right country, but the right island as well. By car, I'm currently 45 minutes away from where my 2nd great grandfather was born and 27 minutes away from where his wife was born. Cianciana Agrigento Italy for my 2nd great grandfather is a very small place. It has a total of ten streets and is a very small place. 

     I have to figure out a way to get there before I leave but as for where I am at right now, let me take you on a written tour. Our house is about a five minute walk from the church where I am currently writing this email. The church shares a parking lot (and building) with a dance studio on the left and a supermarket on the right where we buy our Spesa (groceries) every week. If you go right out of our house, you then manage to make it a big flight of stairs that you have to take in order to get to where the people are and consequently, our finding area. 

     If you stick to the right side of the street you will pass through a giardino (translates literally to garden, but in this instance it means small park) here at night there are abut 15 ragazzacci who are doing pull-ups, push ups and other exercises, usually shirtless. If you kee walking after the Giardino then you will find a lot of beaches and then nothing, so you cross the street and come back the way you came. You pass a few gelaterie shops and then some cartolerie where you buy books, paper and other things like that, they are very popular here in Italy and there are about 4 of them within a mile of each other from our apartment. 

     They separate the trash here in Agrigento as well. Technically we were supposed to do that in Castellammare, but nobody did. Here, it's very much a big deal, and they only take certain garbage on certain days of the week. Every Monday, everything is closed because that's basically the Sunday here.  

Cool thing that heppened this week

     This week we invented a new food. I know we are in Italy, but the thing we invented is still very American in idea. Basically, we took two of America's favorite breakfast foods and made them one. French Pancakes. It's exactly what you think it is. You make pancakes. Then, you dip them in the cinnamon/egg mixture that you would normally put boring old bread in, and then you recook them in the same pan that they were just in. It's a little different, but this way everyone gets what they want. This might not work very well with waffles, but feel free to try I suppose and let me know if this idea is waffle compatible. Pictures would be nice, and appreciated! 

1. My companion is showing us his jenga skills

2. French. Pancakes. (and eggs) 

3. The super long flight of stairs we have to take to get home or go finding. 

4. A cool way to do your lights

5. A picture of a sunset that doesn't do it justice.