May 20

Irania everyone ! (Banso)

Today marks the beginning of my third transfer in Douala.  It is incredible how fast time is passing, but I’m just taking it in stride and trying to do the best I can while I can!  Not to mention I’m having the time of my life, so that’s probably what’s making it go by so dang fast.

Anyway, we were buying veggies at this street stand when we saw this this prickly pear, which they call “corassole,” if you wanna look it up.  I asked what it was called, and the vendor just picked one up and handed it to me and said, “if you like it maybe you’ll come back to buy one!” He was so nice.  I sent a picture of it too, but basically it’s this big pear like thing with little spikes on it.  It has no pit, but rather has little seeds that are surrounded by the fruit which tastes like starbursts.  So you should probably be jealous.

During one of our lessons, our investigator told us about this story of how his dead grandma visited him in a dream, but she looked a lot younger, had all her teeth, and her skin was really nice.  We hadn’t even talked about the spirit world yet, but he basically just explained what it would be like!  He was so excited when we explained afterwards where she was.  Then he told us another story about how when he was younger he worked on a cocoa farm for this man who, at the end, refused to pay him.  The farm actually belonged to our investigator’s dead grandpa, so he claimed to own a quarter of the field through birth right through his mom, who had 3 siblings.  Since normally the women didn’t inherit anything, the man who was making him work got really mad and threatened him, but our investigator wasn’t afraid.  Well one night his uncle knocked on his door at like 4 in the morning and had him come out to this big meeting of all the elders of the surrounding villages, where he sat down in the middle of them and they basically debated, and I quote, “eating” him.  He said that they didn’t mean eating him physically, but then asked us what DID they mean?!  Were these men also children of God?  It was such a random, extreme anecdote and we had no idea what to say.  So we did our best to explain how yes, God loves even them.  He was satisfied I think.

We went to visit an old friend of ours, this DJ turned hair stylist (which means you own a shack and a razor and people pay you 60 cents to shave their head down a little), who has been losing weight.  He told us that he took out a pair of jeans that he’s owned for the last THIRTY years and finally fits into them.  I wasn’t amazed by how much weight he’s lost as much as I couldn’t believe he’s owned a pair of jeans for 30 years.  It reminded me of how we see designer clothes allll over the place here : Gucci, Louis Vuillton, Coach, Chanel, Lucky, etc., but people wear that kind of stuff to work the fields in.  I asked a friend about it, and he said it’s not so much about what you’re wearing but THAT you’re wearing something.  I loved that.

I got to go on splits with my friend Elder Gélinas, the Québecois in our apartment.  Unfortunately, we didn’t really get to talk a lot because a member was our teaching with us, but it was still an awesome experience.  He’s a great missionary, and teaches super well.  It was a lot different being with a francophone, because you learn so much more about how you can better phrase certain parts of your teachings.  I learned a ton. While we were walking around, this man scooted across the street with flip flops on his hands, his legs and feet tucked under him in a sort of ball.  It’s one of those things that if you saw it back home you would be mortified, but is one of those daily phenomenons here.  You feel so bad for these sorts of people and can do nothing for them.  You kindof wonder how they grew up, the trials and persecutions they went through, and how (if at all) they keep their faith. 

We came to the home of a member to find their great grandma just sitting around the house, blind and alone, not really doing anything.  She was so content to hear us say “abusine maman !” and give us this big, toothless smile, eye open (the other sunk in) but not seeing.  In Cameroon, and in much of Africa, you don’t send your grandparents to retirement homes.  They don’t even have them to be sent to.  You just take care of them at your own home until they die.  I think the elderly know this though, because they’ve already lived it, so they don’t expect to be fed and babied while they’re home.  They’re just…there, in the corner, talking to themselves or sleeping or chewing on some leaves or something.  It’s both honorable and sad, but I respect them a lot for what they do.  I wonder what my parents would say if I proposed that idea to them.  I don’t wanna back myself into a corner though, sooo maybe I’ll just not say anything…

My beloved companion got a package from home and shared with us his chocolate covered almonds and sour gummy worms.  In other words, it was manna from heaven.  Candy is priceless.  Let’s just say I would rather have a pound of Butterfinger than a pound of diamonds.

I got denied a brochure for the first time on Friday night, getting out of the taxi.  After talking with our driver for like 20 minutes, he politely explained that he was happy just to talk and share ideas, but no thanks.  I was devastated.  How do you State-side Elders and Sisters do it?!  I kept the brochure in my hand while my companion helped me stay on my feet as we walked through the gate to our apartment (I may have been a little dramatic about it), but as we were walking in, a friend of one of the other tenants was walking out, so I just contacted him right there and he left with the brochure.  Elder Zurcher and I shared a jumping high five as we were walking up the stairs.  No one saw, so that’s probably for the best.

We had an incredible Saturday.  The Bonabéri elders had a baptism to which they invited us.  They had cut the water in that part of town, so they only had about shin-high water in the baptismal font.  It was just enough for the first sister to sit down and have the elder baptizing immerse her by laying her on her back.  The fun began when, as they were getting out, thick, black clouds started racing across the sky and immediately started dumping pouring rain, a fierce wind pushing it almost horizontal to the ground.  The second baptism, a little boy of maybe 10, was anxious to be baptized, so they went back into the font as the storm raged on.  It was the most memorable baptism of my life.  You couldn’t even hear the prayer.  It probably would’ve been enough to just say the prayer and leave the font, as both the child and the elder baptizing him were already completely soaked before going under the water.  I couldn’t help but record the scene.  It was unlike anything I’d ever experienced, but the Spirit was still so strong.  After a while the rain died down and we were served beignets, roasted caramel peanuts, and this fried triangle snacks filled with meat and veggies called “pili pili.”  It was delicious, but didn’t exactly match the pineapple soda I was given as well.   

Afterwards, we went to the Akwa branch to host an activity celebrating the restoration of the Priesthood.  Elder Zurcher and I sat outside and welcomed people as they came in and played games with members from both branches.  We taught a guard who usually sits outside next door, but saw us and wanted to come chat.  He had tons of questions, and they all had to do with the Plan of Salvation, so we had an awesome lesson with him.  Everyone went upstairs where we projected “Joseph Smith: Prophet of the Restoration.”  There were probably 50 or so people there, and if anyone left without having felt the Spirit I would have to ask what they were doing for the whole hour the movie was playing.  I watched it in English back in the MTC, but the Spirit in that room was so, so strong.  I left with a more firm testimony on the divine calling of Joseph Smith, and I would encourage anyone who doubts the revelations he received to watch that film! It’s seriously so powerful. 

On Sunday we welcomed several new investigators at church, and it was just a great Sabbath day.  Elder Zurcher and I taught a lesson on missionary work (easy but awesome) to the Anglophones who don’t actually speak American English, but it was so really good.  One of the investigators is the man who grew up in Cameroon but moved to New York, and then eventually Wisconsin and Chicago.  He knows everything I’ve ever known about my hometown, it was so cool to chat with him! And his English is more American than anything I’ve heard, so that was easy on the ears.  He said, “I’m a billion dollar person because I’m able,” which I found profound.  He walked a couple miles to come to church, because he said if he didn’t have taxi money he would be lying—he had his legs, which lots of people are sitting around hospitals begging for.  He’s fantastic.

Anyway, another transfer down.  Can’t believe it.  This one is over at the end of June, and then I will have already done a quarter of my mission!  It’s nuts.  I love it.  I love you.  I wish I knew everything about everyone of you and all your worries and burdens and sufferings and pains and problems so I could tell you that no matter what it was, Jesus Christ suffered below all of that and that your problems can be resolved through the Atonement.  If you don’t believe me, try applying it in your life and see if I’m just saying nonsense ;) 

Till next week!

Abeni !

Elder Garland