So. One week I get a letter from dad, the next week I get one from mom. Are we taking turns now, or are things just not coming through? And if we are taking turns, does that mean next week I shouldn't write?
I finally got around to buying my winter coat and boots, as you may have noticed that there is slightly less money in my bank account. You may have also noticed that they were rather on the obscenely expensive side, but that's okay because they're also ridiculously warm. Please pass on my thanks to Grandma and Grandpa Hyde, in any case, because the rubles they sent me while I was in the MTC were exactly enough to cover the cost of the boots. The coat itself is covered in a ton of fur. Yuck. I'll send you pictures one of these days if I ever find enough time to do so. Most if not all of the fur is removable though, so you may not get the full effect of the coat by the time I get around to taking pictures. We shall see.
I think I've discovered the secret to eating Russian food: Never, under any circumstances, no matter how much you may want to, think about what it is you're putting into your mouth. It's amazing how much easier it is to eat the things you're offered when you do it that way. True, I have yet to be offered fish heads (which American missionaries aren't allowed to eat anyway, now that I think about it. All the fish around here have been declared too polluted for healthy consumption) or dog (also, as I understand it, off limits to Americans. Bummer.), but I figure it's only a matter of time. In any case, while most of the things I've eaten have been quite tasty (Russian pancakes, for example, which, incidentally, also happen to be used as a mild swearword (the word for pancakes, not the pancakes themselves, though that would be pretty much awesome)), some have been... interesting.
I made a new friend while contacting this week. I offered him a Finding Faith in Christ pass-along card and started to explain what it was and who we were when about 3 words in he interrupted with, "what's that she says?" So I started over, and again about 3 words in he turned to Sister Ivanova and asked, "She doesn't speak Russian, does she? Where is she from?" America, of course. "Ah, America. I love beautiful women from America." Sister Ivanova then answered with something to the effect of, "yes, that's very nice. But you should listen to the message she's got for you." And then she gave me that steely-eyed, "go ahead sweetheart," look that I'm pretty sure mothers have been giving their wayward children for centuries. Welp. She's the senior companion, so I went ahead. "It's a DVD about Jesus Christ. His life, His Atonement--"
"I love you. She doesn't understand me, does she?"
"She understands just fine, but that's not--"
"No no. I will tell her. I. LOVE. YOU."
Thank you sir, I'm very flattered. But you see, generally I tend to go for those closer to my own age, and anyway, I've only just started my mission and I've been commanded to lock my heart.
Needless to say our conversation didn't last much longer after that. But we left him the pass-along card with the address on the church building on it, and who knows? Maybe he'll feel inspired to come and learn more about the gospel.
... Or to find beautiful women. Either way, I think it'll be a good way to introduce him to the elders. HA.
Speaking of the church, did I tell you that we have an actual building here on Sakhalin? It's currently being remodeled (and has been for at least a year (if not more) from what I hear. But they swear it'll be done by Christmas. Really), so we meet on the fifth floor of a building in the middle of the city. But the fact that we have an actual building owned soley by the Church, and used solely for Church business, is astounding. It's definitely the only one in the mission, and may also be the only one east of Samara. Woo! The Church is growing! Next up: temple. We have a branch of 100. We just need a stake. 4 more branches to go. It'll happen.
Amusing-ish story: When Sister Ivanova and I came home on Thursday night, we discovered that our building and all those surrounding it were completely without power. Theoretically there are candles located in our apartment somewhere, but we couldn't find them anywhere. We looked for about 10 minutes and then decided they really weren't that important anyway, because really all we needed to do was plan, and we figured we could just as easily do that by cell phone light anyway. So we did. Or started to, anyway. For some as-of-yet-unknown reason, the cell phone randomly died and refused to turn back on. Well. But we're resourceful Sister Missionaries, so we went and grabbed my alarm clock and finished planning by the light of the snooze button. Then at exactly 9:31 pm I learned that home phones are not powered by the same source as everything else in the apartment, because that's when Elder Carter, our Zone Leader, called and asked why he had not as yet received our nightly phone call telling him that we'd arrived home safely, and why weren't we answering our cell phone? Ha. Good times.
Luckily for me I don't ever have to deal with the cell phone, because as per mission rules responsibility for the cell phone rests with the Senior Companion, which I most definitely am not. Occasionally it does fall into the hands of the Junior Companion for a short period of time (like, for example, when your senior companion runs off to Vladivostok to take the TOEFL test and leaves you with a member of the branch for two days), but for the most part (except for the occasional appointment she has me set up when she's absolutely sure I'll understand everything I'm told), Sister Ivanova does all of the phone communicating. And that's the way it should be.
I've got some extra time this week for some reason I can't quite figure out, so here, have some unofficially official responses to various people who have emailed me, because I can't actually respond to them personally. Please feel free to pass them on as you see fit.
Lisa Hoffman's haircut is very very cute, and Hayden is much too young to be dating. :) Oh, and doing missionary work is good for them!
I'm thoroughly disgusted that Cynthia is still running around Europe like a madwoman, but she's only got a limited amount of time left. I've still got at least another 14 months here. HA! Oh, and tell Shana Brown I've discovered at least 3 potential husbands for her already.
I think that's it. Possibly. I love you all, please feel free to enjoy yourselves without me (though I expect stories if you do), and try to keep yourselves safe another week.
-Sister Read. Or Сестра Рид here.
(Editorial comment: the guy enamored of Calista, is that one of the potential husbands for Shana?)
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Dear Parents and so forth,
It's Monday again, which means it's Sunday for you and P Day for me. I'm sitting here in an internet cafe in what my silly Russian compatriots charmingly think of as a "mall." There's a sign on the computer that, politely put, demands that I not converse by telephone! (!!!!), and per usual I've only got a limited amount of time to get things written.
We finally got to see conference yesterday and Saturday, and what made it even better was that they had it in English (well, all sessions except the General Relief Society broadcast, but I figured that was okay because I listened to it in the MTC before I left), which meant that I could understand! Hooray! Admittedly the room we watched it in was freezing, because of course they haven't turned on the heat in the church building and there's only one portable heater, which of course the branch had in their room because there are many more of them than there are missionaries and other native English speakers, but it was still amazing. We even had investigators show up for both sessions on Sunday. Hooray! These particular two we met up with on the street our first couple days in, and they're actually progressing amazingly well.
As far as finding other investigators though, we can't really do much tracting, because everybody lives in your typical Soviet-era housing, complete with an outside-locking door. So unless you know somebody inside or you have a key, there isn't much in the way of getting in. Most of the people we teach we meet on the street usually by means of the pass-along card (which of course are always a good conversation-starter). Occasionally the members will introduce us to their friends and family, and of course when they do it's always amazing. There are only six of us missionaries on the island, so of course we can't contact everybody.
The mission itself is so small that we don't have districts, only zones. Sister Ivanova and I are in the center of the city (we live on what in English I think would be World Avenue, in case you want to look it up. See also Prospect Mira, in Russian) in an apartment, which, aside from the occasional drift of smoke from the neighbors, is actually not too bad. Well. It's habitable, which I think is more than can be said for the Elders' apartments, though of course I haven't seen any of theirs. Only heard stories. For some reason that I can't quite figure out though, somehow we only have a very limited supply of cold water, which lasts about 2 minutes in the shower, and then it gets boiling hot. Mind you, I'm not entirely sure that this is something to complain about, because of course hot water is lovely, but I've discovered that it's just as difficult to shower in water that burns as it is in water that freezes. At any rate my shower time has definitely decreased.
Sister Ivanova is also amazing. She comes from somewhere in the Nova Sibirsk mission, though I can't remember which city, exactly. She joined the church 5 years ago, and served 4 mini-missions before she actually put in her papers to serve. She's a missionary machine of course, and is one of those people that every loves, which makes our work that much easier.
In any case, I'm out of time again, and per usual I still need to write to President Pratt.
I love you all, stay safe, have fun, and please fell free to enjoy delicious foods like snickerdoodles other things I won't see for a while.
-Sister Read
It's Monday again, which means it's Sunday for you and P Day for me. I'm sitting here in an internet cafe in what my silly Russian compatriots charmingly think of as a "mall." There's a sign on the computer that, politely put, demands that I not converse by telephone! (!!!!), and per usual I've only got a limited amount of time to get things written.
We finally got to see conference yesterday and Saturday, and what made it even better was that they had it in English (well, all sessions except the General Relief Society broadcast, but I figured that was okay because I listened to it in the MTC before I left), which meant that I could understand! Hooray! Admittedly the room we watched it in was freezing, because of course they haven't turned on the heat in the church building and there's only one portable heater, which of course the branch had in their room because there are many more of them than there are missionaries and other native English speakers, but it was still amazing. We even had investigators show up for both sessions on Sunday. Hooray! These particular two we met up with on the street our first couple days in, and they're actually progressing amazingly well.
As far as finding other investigators though, we can't really do much tracting, because everybody lives in your typical Soviet-era housing, complete with an outside-locking door. So unless you know somebody inside or you have a key, there isn't much in the way of getting in. Most of the people we teach we meet on the street usually by means of the pass-along card (which of course are always a good conversation-starter). Occasionally the members will introduce us to their friends and family, and of course when they do it's always amazing. There are only six of us missionaries on the island, so of course we can't contact everybody.
The mission itself is so small that we don't have districts, only zones. Sister Ivanova and I are in the center of the city (we live on what in English I think would be World Avenue, in case you want to look it up. See also Prospect Mira, in Russian) in an apartment, which, aside from the occasional drift of smoke from the neighbors, is actually not too bad. Well. It's habitable, which I think is more than can be said for the Elders' apartments, though of course I haven't seen any of theirs. Only heard stories. For some reason that I can't quite figure out though, somehow we only have a very limited supply of cold water, which lasts about 2 minutes in the shower, and then it gets boiling hot. Mind you, I'm not entirely sure that this is something to complain about, because of course hot water is lovely, but I've discovered that it's just as difficult to shower in water that burns as it is in water that freezes. At any rate my shower time has definitely decreased.
Sister Ivanova is also amazing. She comes from somewhere in the Nova Sibirsk mission, though I can't remember which city, exactly. She joined the church 5 years ago, and served 4 mini-missions before she actually put in her papers to serve. She's a missionary machine of course, and is one of those people that every loves, which makes our work that much easier.
In any case, I'm out of time again, and per usual I still need to write to President Pratt.
I love you all, stay safe, have fun, and please fell free to enjoy delicious foods like snickerdoodles other things I won't see for a while.
-Sister Read
Sunday, October 11, 2009
(Editor's note: I particularly enjoyed Calista's contrition at not going out with the missionaries more before her mission, especially since she was somewhat less than enthusiastic about the idea. :-P )
Holy cow, I've only got a few minutes, but about a million things to tell you.
Firstly: Hello my wonderful, amazing, marvelous, active-members-of-the-church parents (and siblings, if you read this, and beloved grandparents, church members or not :) as well. Please see also: roommates (I hope you know who you are), second- or third-families, and every other awesome individual in my life). I love you all! Let me tell you how amazingly lucky I am to have you: Very. I mean exceedingly.
Oh man, the church here is so young! Okay, so admittedly the mission itself has only been open for 10 years, but even so. It's almost bizarre when we meet with a member and find out that they've been in the church for more than 3 or 4 years. Crazy! The branch on Sakhalin has about 100 members, and they're all pretty cool, and way pumped about doing missionary work. Every single day we've had people to teach, obviously, and at almost every single lesson we've had a member present. Wow. Please tell the missionaries at home that when I get back I will be happy to go out with them at any time, because I definitely didn't do it enough pre-mission, and I realize now what a nuisance it is when members aren't available.
In any case, more about the mission: Ours is definitely a walking city (obviously it's a walking mission, but here on Sakhalin it's even more so than in Vladivostok, where they at least have fairly a fairly reliable bus system. We have one here, but reliable it is not so much), which is fine with me because Russian drivers definitely have no concept of what those lines painted on the road mean, or what a "road" is, for that matter. Lanes? Meh. We don't need them. Too much traffic? Let's take the sidewalk! Yikes. Luckily the sidewalks themselves are fairly big, so pedestrians never get hit. ... That I've seen, anyway. Although, at the rate people drink around here, I would not honestly be surprised to see a drunk pedestrian meet up with a vehicle.
The food here is, well interesting, I suppose. On PDay last week I made the mistake of letting Sister Ivanova talk me into going to a Mexican restaurant and eating a chimichanga. Oof. Heed my words, all within listening distance: If ever you find yourself in Far East Russia, never ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever Ever EVER eat the mexican food. EVER. And I mean that. Sincerely. The rest of the food, however, has been relatively normal ish. Except for the dairy. Russian butter tastes like vomit, and I refuse to drink milk that is allowed to sit out on the counter for 4 or 5 days at a time. Instead I've taken to eating my cereal in the morning with yogurt, because it's very difficult to go wrong with yogurt, I've discovered. It's actually quite tasty, and I may just continue this practice after the mission. Every other meal is just about what you'd expect around here: some sort of pasta/bread product and meat, which admittedly is pretty delicious also. Fruits and vegetables are obscenely expensive, Sister Ivanova keeps telling me, so I guess it's a good thing I've got my multivitamins handy.
I hear that all the American missionaries wait until they go to Korea to buy all their food, because they've got a (gasp!) COSTCO there, and Koreans apparently know how to eat proper food, like chips and salsa and I don't know what else. Peanut butter, possibly. In any case, I guess I'll find out in December, because my visa expires on the 29th. Theoretically that could mean I spend either Christmas or New Year (or both, or neither) in Korea, depending on when they send us out and how long they keep us there. We shall see. Depending on how badly I want chips and salsa by the time I get out there, I may just follow the examples of all the American missionaries before me and do some serious food-buying when I get there.
The weather here on the island is quite pleasant, and I could get used to it. It's overcast a lot, and when It isn't overcast, it's raining. Beautiful.
Oh crud, I've only got 5 more minutes, and I'm supposed to write to President Pratt. I love you, I'll try to continue next week, and if not, welp, just know that things are going very... interestingly here in Russia. And I love it.
Love you!
-Sister Read. Calista to you.
Holy cow, I've only got a few minutes, but about a million things to tell you.
Firstly: Hello my wonderful, amazing, marvelous, active-members-of-the-church parents (and siblings, if you read this, and beloved grandparents, church members or not :) as well. Please see also: roommates (I hope you know who you are), second- or third-families, and every other awesome individual in my life). I love you all! Let me tell you how amazingly lucky I am to have you: Very. I mean exceedingly.
Oh man, the church here is so young! Okay, so admittedly the mission itself has only been open for 10 years, but even so. It's almost bizarre when we meet with a member and find out that they've been in the church for more than 3 or 4 years. Crazy! The branch on Sakhalin has about 100 members, and they're all pretty cool, and way pumped about doing missionary work. Every single day we've had people to teach, obviously, and at almost every single lesson we've had a member present. Wow. Please tell the missionaries at home that when I get back I will be happy to go out with them at any time, because I definitely didn't do it enough pre-mission, and I realize now what a nuisance it is when members aren't available.
In any case, more about the mission: Ours is definitely a walking city (obviously it's a walking mission, but here on Sakhalin it's even more so than in Vladivostok, where they at least have fairly a fairly reliable bus system. We have one here, but reliable it is not so much), which is fine with me because Russian drivers definitely have no concept of what those lines painted on the road mean, or what a "road" is, for that matter. Lanes? Meh. We don't need them. Too much traffic? Let's take the sidewalk! Yikes. Luckily the sidewalks themselves are fairly big, so pedestrians never get hit. ... That I've seen, anyway. Although, at the rate people drink around here, I would not honestly be surprised to see a drunk pedestrian meet up with a vehicle.
The food here is, well interesting, I suppose. On PDay last week I made the mistake of letting Sister Ivanova talk me into going to a Mexican restaurant and eating a chimichanga. Oof. Heed my words, all within listening distance: If ever you find yourself in Far East Russia, never ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever Ever EVER eat the mexican food. EVER. And I mean that. Sincerely. The rest of the food, however, has been relatively normal ish. Except for the dairy. Russian butter tastes like vomit, and I refuse to drink milk that is allowed to sit out on the counter for 4 or 5 days at a time. Instead I've taken to eating my cereal in the morning with yogurt, because it's very difficult to go wrong with yogurt, I've discovered. It's actually quite tasty, and I may just continue this practice after the mission. Every other meal is just about what you'd expect around here: some sort of pasta/bread product and meat, which admittedly is pretty delicious also. Fruits and vegetables are obscenely expensive, Sister Ivanova keeps telling me, so I guess it's a good thing I've got my multivitamins handy.
I hear that all the American missionaries wait until they go to Korea to buy all their food, because they've got a (gasp!) COSTCO there, and Koreans apparently know how to eat proper food, like chips and salsa and I don't know what else. Peanut butter, possibly. In any case, I guess I'll find out in December, because my visa expires on the 29th. Theoretically that could mean I spend either Christmas or New Year (or both, or neither) in Korea, depending on when they send us out and how long they keep us there. We shall see. Depending on how badly I want chips and salsa by the time I get out there, I may just follow the examples of all the American missionaries before me and do some serious food-buying when I get there.
The weather here on the island is quite pleasant, and I could get used to it. It's overcast a lot, and when It isn't overcast, it's raining. Beautiful.
Oh crud, I've only got 5 more minutes, and I'm supposed to write to President Pratt. I love you, I'll try to continue next week, and if not, welp, just know that things are going very... interestingly here in Russia. And I love it.
Love you!
-Sister Read. Calista to you.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
This picture was in the standard "your son/daughter has arrived in the mission and fine, so please stop fretting" email that parents get when their offspring has arrived at the mission home.Calista's first letter from the mission field
Dad! And hopefully Mom if this is your email address. If not, Hello Linda Read. You have the same name as my mother. Here's hoping you enjoy this as much as she would. I couldn't remember either of your email addresses, but I'm about 85% certain I got dad's right. Yesterday they asked me for my parents' email addresses so they could send out a reassuring email complete with Picture Of Your Missionary With The President, and I reeeeeally couldn't remember either address then, so I gave them davidread4@gmail.com, only to realize later that Dad uses daveread... Sooooooooo if you happen to have a davidread4 also, well okay, but if not, some complete stranger may or may not have received an email telling him that his daughter arrived safely in Russia on Saturday (although technically of course it was Friday, and let me tell you it's throwing my sense of time off completely. The Time Zone change wasn't too bad, because in reality we're only 4 hours behind you, or 16 ahead if you really want to get technical about it. I'm pretty sure I've adjusted okay, but then again it's only been two days).
Anyway, I talked to President Pratt about using other email services, and, well, I guess you can see what he had to say about it. Meh. One email service is as good as the next one, I suppose. I think I'll just forward everything to my gmail, so that it won't take up the .00000000000000000000000002 mm of space they give me on myldsmail. I wasn't sure if I would be able to create a myldsmail account seeing as how I'm not currently in the MTC and I'm pretty sure that's the only place you can create an account, but the office couple here, Elder and Sister Magill are pretty much amazing and miraculous. So behold, or as they say in Russia, "вот," which is probably spelled something like Vot in English and rhymes with Boat. It's quite a useful word around here, because it can be anything from a random filler to a direction (Look there!) to something like, "look what I found!" or, "Oh, no worries, I found it." I've been using it a lot in the latter context lately. Who knew that travel required so much finding? And who knew that the passport is a very vital part of international travel? Huh.
Speaking of travel, let me tell you about the journey over here. (You may or may not have noticed, by the way, that this is going to be a longer letter than usual. Apparently I've just experienced a very large change in my life or something.) The flight from SLC to LA was uneventful. I ate Sour Patch Kids (of course I purchased those before leaving. How could I not?) and took a nap. Then we got into LA and spent 30 minutes wandering in circles trying to find our gate, mostly because the airport in LA is currently undergoing a large amount of remodling and construction. Eventually we managed to locate it, and we sat and waited another 2 hours to board the plane, which, by the way was not a 747 but was, in fact a 777. Holy cow, talk about flying in your living room. Someday I would like to fly internationally on Korean Air again, preferably when not a missionary so that I can play all the games and watch all the free movies they offer on the individual television screens placed on the back of every seat. As it was, when I wasn't attempting to sleep sitting up, I would pull up the airplane statistics and watch the progress of our plane across the screen. It was quite entertaining. Because of the way our seats were booked, three of the members of my district ended up at the back of the plane and the other three (me included, obviously) were more towards the middle. In addition, somehow it ended up that Sister Lewis and Elder Kezele were in a side row together and I was in the middle row by myself. Well, mostly by myself. I might've been nice and switched seats with Elder Kezele, but I wasn't feeling particularly generous and I figured it would be good for him to sit where he was. Meanwhile, I was next to a man, who, when he heard that I was going to Russia (and that I was paying to do so), said something to the effect of, "I am so sorry. Good luck. You're going to need it." He then spent most of our mutual waking hours trying to persuade me that I had no idea what I was getting into. I guess he found my situation really worrying, because by the end of the flight he had not only given me his complimentary muffin, but also three or four of the free toothbrushes they had available in the restrooms and told me to "give them to your boys. I mean, your elders. You'll need them." Apparently they don't know how to brush their teeth in Russia, or something.
Other than my newest and bestest friend, the 13 hour flight from LA to Seoul was also fairly uneventful. Actually, now that I think about it, the whole trip was fairly uneventful. Long, yes, but not particularly exciting. We all made it through the screening processes in Korea and Vladivostok, and all of our luggage arrived when we did. It was kind of strange going through Customs here in Vladivostok though, because while we were standing in line (very much like cattle waiting to be processed, for the record) waiting our turn there was almost no talking going on around us. I mean none. It was crazy. But, as I said, we all made it through safely, no extra charges or anything, and then we met up with President and Sister Pratt, who were simultaneously sending off 3 missionaries and welcoming all of us in.
After meeting with President Pratt, Sister Lewis and I piled into the Pratts' car with them, their driver (Americans aren't allowed to drive over here), and all of our luggage. The elders got to take a taxi with the APs. Then we drove for an hour from Arteyom (That's where the airport is located, and also happens to be one of open cities in the mission. I just wish I could figure out how it's spelled in English (This whole conversion thing is lame). That's the closest approximation I've got.) to the mission home where we stayed until this morning, because they had to fly in various companionships and get all our Visa and 2nd passport stuff done, and obviously some of that couldn't be done until today.
So yesterday we got to go to the branch here in Vladivostok, and that was pretty interesting, because of course it was all conducted in Russian. I understood Sacrament meeting, because it was all testimonies, and I'd say we're nothing if not experts on those anymore, and I got most of Sunday School, but holy cow, the Relief Society President (who looks like a Relief Society President, for the record. It's good to know that the church is true even here in Russia) speaks at about 500,000,000,000 miles a minute and so I only caught 3 or 4 out of ever 15 words. And I'm told that's how they all speak around here too.
We got our assignments while we were staying with President and Sister Pratt, obviously, and they told us who our companions would be. I've been put with Sister Ivanova (who is flippin cute, for the record. We met last night when she flew in, and of course she's one of those people who makes friends with absolutely everybody, and whom everybody absolutely adores. I'm pretty sure we'll get along quite well, especially because she speaks about as much English as I do Russian, so communication is only occasionally interesting, as opposed to constantly.) and we're heading to the island of Sakhalin later this evening. There's only one open city in Sakhalin, and it's all the way on the south of the island (of course I'm using the term "island" very relatively here. It's about the size of California, I think.). Yuzhno-Sakhalinsk, I think it's called. I'm so excited. I can't even tell you.
Anyway, that's my hour up. I've got to go figure out how I'm going to compact all my belongings into 1 suitcase, because that's all they let you take out there. Luckily they let you take up to 70 lbs, though. I'm seriously doubting it'll be much of a problem.
I love you, stay safe, and have fun!
-Sister Read
Anyway, I talked to President Pratt about using other email services, and, well, I guess you can see what he had to say about it. Meh. One email service is as good as the next one, I suppose. I think I'll just forward everything to my gmail, so that it won't take up the .00000000000000000000000002 mm of space they give me on myldsmail. I wasn't sure if I would be able to create a myldsmail account seeing as how I'm not currently in the MTC and I'm pretty sure that's the only place you can create an account, but the office couple here, Elder and Sister Magill are pretty much amazing and miraculous. So behold, or as they say in Russia, "вот," which is probably spelled something like Vot in English and rhymes with Boat. It's quite a useful word around here, because it can be anything from a random filler to a direction (Look there!) to something like, "look what I found!" or, "Oh, no worries, I found it." I've been using it a lot in the latter context lately. Who knew that travel required so much finding? And who knew that the passport is a very vital part of international travel? Huh.
Speaking of travel, let me tell you about the journey over here. (You may or may not have noticed, by the way, that this is going to be a longer letter than usual. Apparently I've just experienced a very large change in my life or something.) The flight from SLC to LA was uneventful. I ate Sour Patch Kids (of course I purchased those before leaving. How could I not?) and took a nap. Then we got into LA and spent 30 minutes wandering in circles trying to find our gate, mostly because the airport in LA is currently undergoing a large amount of remodling and construction. Eventually we managed to locate it, and we sat and waited another 2 hours to board the plane, which, by the way was not a 747 but was, in fact a 777. Holy cow, talk about flying in your living room. Someday I would like to fly internationally on Korean Air again, preferably when not a missionary so that I can play all the games and watch all the free movies they offer on the individual television screens placed on the back of every seat. As it was, when I wasn't attempting to sleep sitting up, I would pull up the airplane statistics and watch the progress of our plane across the screen. It was quite entertaining. Because of the way our seats were booked, three of the members of my district ended up at the back of the plane and the other three (me included, obviously) were more towards the middle. In addition, somehow it ended up that Sister Lewis and Elder Kezele were in a side row together and I was in the middle row by myself. Well, mostly by myself. I might've been nice and switched seats with Elder Kezele, but I wasn't feeling particularly generous and I figured it would be good for him to sit where he was. Meanwhile, I was next to a man, who, when he heard that I was going to Russia (and that I was paying to do so), said something to the effect of, "I am so sorry. Good luck. You're going to need it." He then spent most of our mutual waking hours trying to persuade me that I had no idea what I was getting into. I guess he found my situation really worrying, because by the end of the flight he had not only given me his complimentary muffin, but also three or four of the free toothbrushes they had available in the restrooms and told me to "give them to your boys. I mean, your elders. You'll need them." Apparently they don't know how to brush their teeth in Russia, or something.
Other than my newest and bestest friend, the 13 hour flight from LA to Seoul was also fairly uneventful. Actually, now that I think about it, the whole trip was fairly uneventful. Long, yes, but not particularly exciting. We all made it through the screening processes in Korea and Vladivostok, and all of our luggage arrived when we did. It was kind of strange going through Customs here in Vladivostok though, because while we were standing in line (very much like cattle waiting to be processed, for the record) waiting our turn there was almost no talking going on around us. I mean none. It was crazy. But, as I said, we all made it through safely, no extra charges or anything, and then we met up with President and Sister Pratt, who were simultaneously sending off 3 missionaries and welcoming all of us in.
After meeting with President Pratt, Sister Lewis and I piled into the Pratts' car with them, their driver (Americans aren't allowed to drive over here), and all of our luggage. The elders got to take a taxi with the APs. Then we drove for an hour from Arteyom (That's where the airport is located, and also happens to be one of open cities in the mission. I just wish I could figure out how it's spelled in English (This whole conversion thing is lame). That's the closest approximation I've got.) to the mission home where we stayed until this morning, because they had to fly in various companionships and get all our Visa and 2nd passport stuff done, and obviously some of that couldn't be done until today.
So yesterday we got to go to the branch here in Vladivostok, and that was pretty interesting, because of course it was all conducted in Russian. I understood Sacrament meeting, because it was all testimonies, and I'd say we're nothing if not experts on those anymore, and I got most of Sunday School, but holy cow, the Relief Society President (who looks like a Relief Society President, for the record. It's good to know that the church is true even here in Russia) speaks at about 500,000,000,000 miles a minute and so I only caught 3 or 4 out of ever 15 words. And I'm told that's how they all speak around here too.
We got our assignments while we were staying with President and Sister Pratt, obviously, and they told us who our companions would be. I've been put with Sister Ivanova (who is flippin cute, for the record. We met last night when she flew in, and of course she's one of those people who makes friends with absolutely everybody, and whom everybody absolutely adores. I'm pretty sure we'll get along quite well, especially because she speaks about as much English as I do Russian, so communication is only occasionally interesting, as opposed to constantly.) and we're heading to the island of Sakhalin later this evening. There's only one open city in Sakhalin, and it's all the way on the south of the island (of course I'm using the term "island" very relatively here. It's about the size of California, I think.). Yuzhno-Sakhalinsk, I think it's called. I'm so excited. I can't even tell you.
Anyway, that's my hour up. I've got to go figure out how I'm going to compact all my belongings into 1 suitcase, because that's all they let you take out there. Luckily they let you take up to 70 lbs, though. I'm seriously doubting it'll be much of a problem.
I love you, stay safe, and have fun!
-Sister Read
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