Work Stories - Mormon Missionary Edition

I served from Nov. 2007-Nov. 2009, and I actually ended up spending the whole time in Minnesota (Worthington and Marshall) and North Dakota (Minot). I loved my time there and the people I met, but when I first got my call, my first thought was "I can't remember the last time I thought about South Dakota." I had friends going to Brazil, California, Japan, Ukraine, etc. South Dakota didn't sound particularly exciting. But it was great!

This was terrifying. My Spanish sucked, but it got a lot better. They said the decision was inspired, but I'm preeeeetty sure it was about 87% convenience.

My mouth dropped open. Absolutely horrified. It was actually the other missionary who said yes, and my Spanish was still really weak, but I got the idea. The squid was actually manageable, but the sauce it was in made me gag, which I'm sure was really rude, but they were understanding.

This was one of two instances where someone asked me to cast out a devil, though I'm pretty sure he was just messing with us. He took us into his home and had us sit at his table. His girlfriend was on the couch, naked except for a sheet, and clearly pretty hung over. He insisted we stay, said it was okay for him to drink because "Moses was a drunk," and yelled at us for looking at his girlfriend (we very didn't). She got on the phone and asked someone to "come take care of these Jehovah's Witnesses," and we excused ourselves.

Um, yeah. You know you can just start at the beginning, right?

This guy was amazing. He was a tiny Mexican man from Chiapas. People almost never wanted to talk to us, but he invited us in and wanted to learn, which, for those of you who have done this, you know how rare that is. He loved to read the Book of Mormon and was one of my favorite people to talk to. One time he hurt his arm at work, so he called us from the hospital asking for a ride home, but we needed to call him "Victor" at the hospital instead of his real name, which made me laugh.

I tried not to argue (colloquially called "bible bashing"), because it never helped, but sometimes people asked for it. Also, I love arguing. So, we showed up to his apartment, he invited us in, and then started attacking us. I responded three times with what I believed, but he kept coming (my companion was very timid and didn't say a word), so I engaged. He said "you're wrong because x" and I gave multiple bible verses supporting my position, in context even, and he said "well, I don't know much about that, but really I wanted to say you're going to hell because y." He did that a few times, we weren't getting anywhere, so we left. He was in a wheelchair, so part of me felt bad about it, but I can't say I didn't enjoy myself.

This was freaky. He just looked at the beam, laughed, and kept working.

We helped out filling orders at the food pantry every few weeks. The people who ran it were very kind, and they appreciated the help so much that they always sent us home with a shopping cart full of food, which was great.

We were not invited back.

This guy was great, but he really should have been in a care facility. He was evicted from his apartment, and when we helped him move out, I found more dried poop in his room. It was awful. We helped him move into a new place that had care providers on site, so he was better after that.

I think about him now and then. I wonder if he's still alive.

This is pretty common among Hispanic folks (and presumably other folks too), but I, the young innocent Mormon boy, was in no way prepared for it. I think I spent the rest of the appointment looking at the floor or the ceiling.

That cold is with windchill, but still. A difference of about 170° F. We weren't supposed to leave our apartment if was more that -30°, but we did once or twice anyway, just to say we did. Also, we were snowed in more most of December 2008, and you have no idea how many games of Phase 10 we played; they were the only cards we had.

This wasn't me, but a good friend of mine who was in South Dakota. They said no, unfortunately, they could not give him a ride. A few weeks later they woke up to find he'd broken into their house and crashed on their couch. They got new locks after that.

This sucked. I went through an international airport on my way home, too, not yet knowing what it was. What I'm saying is, someone is probably swine-dead because of me. I'm sorry!

Hope you guys like these! I've got a ton more, so if you want me to make another post, say so!