Welp. It's a new week and a new transfer, and I'm still here on Sakhalin for another 6 weeks. Hooray! Khabarovsk is a fun place to visit (for about 30 seconds), but it's a little too cold for me. Lovely ice sculptures though. Incidentally, Sister Ivanova informed me that when she called home, the temperature in her home city on Saturday was a balmy -40 C. I dunno what that translates into in normal-people measurements, but it certainly sounds ridiculously cold. Good thing I'm not in the Novosibirsk mission. I hear it gets all the way down to -70 C in some places. Ick.

So just in case you're wondering, children here are pretty much the same as children at home. We have a fairly big branch here on Sakhalin (usually about 45-60 people at Sacrament Meeting on Sundays), and there are two families with little girls under the age of 2. One of them, Varia, is the daughter of the Branch President. Her favorite thing to do is to run at high speed around the meeting hall while cackling madly. Then when her mother starts looking like she's going to get up and chase after Varia, Varia runs up on to the stand and throws herself into her daddy's lap, because she knows that mom won't follow her there. Then when she gets bored (22.7 seconds later), she runs back down into the congregation and demands (in her loudest not-quite-two-years-old voice) that the other little girl, Lana, hand over whatever toy she happens to be playing with at the moment. Of course Lana has no intention of doing any such thing, so what usually happens is that they both try to take it from one another by force. It's really quite amusing. Well, I think so at any rate. I dunno that her mom agrees.

Also for the record, Christmas day in Korea is about as exciting as Christmas day in Russia. See also, from what I could tell, they aren't even aware that it exists. Well no, okay, they're definitely more aware of it than the Russians (who partially don't recognize it because people who celebrate on the 25th of December are obviously dirty Catholics/Americans/Mormons/

FOREIGNERS/fill-in-your-own-derogatory-term-heres, and everybody knows that Christmas should properly come AFTER New Year, not before), but still. We spent the day wandering around the city-sized flea market (and I'm not even kidding about that one. This place was HUGE) and eating at On the Border. I'm sure there probably were people at home celebrating properly, but obviously we didn't see them, and therefore I'm going to go ahead and stereotype the entire nation based on my 2-and-a-half-days' experience there.

I'm pretty sure there was more I wanted to say here, but for the life of me I can't figure out what it was. Did you get my pictures? (That wasn't it, but what the heck. I've got five minutes).

Anyway, I can't think of it at the moment, so I guess you get to wait until next week. I love you, thank you thank you thank you for the Christmas presents (and thank you Grandma and Grandpa for the mission donations (thank you Sister Little as well), thank you Grandma Read for the box I haven't actually received yet, and thank you to anybody and everybody I missed), be safe, and have a good week. I mean it. Oh, and enjoy the new year.

-Sister Read.

12:58 PM. Monday.

So we hit the internet earlier than usual today, mostly because we've got some serious shopping to do (groceries and winter nylons... woo!), but also because transfers happen at the end of this week and we as a Zone want to go and climb the little mini mountain located just east of the city. Once again... photos as I get around to them. See also: When I find a computer with USB capabilities. Basically what I'm saying here is that while I found a battery charger for relatively cheap, I now need to focus on getting photos off the camera. I figure you'll get to see what my life is like on the mission sometime after I return home.

And also, before Iforget, and because if I wait until next Monday it'll be too late: Happy Birthday Dearest Eldest Sibling Mine. On Sunday. Oh for cuteness... Christopher is going to be... 27? Really? That's disgusting. I'm disgusted. Hippo Birdies, Sibling Dearest. Hippo Birdies.

Let's see... what else? Ah. Sometime last week Sister Ivanova declared that she was in the mood for french fries, and so we bought potatoes (fast food is not something readily available around here... although now that I think about it, I did hear that there's a Baskin Robbins somewhere on the American (see also: waaaaaaay south and very very very very rich) side of town. I'll have to check that out sometime) and put them in the refrigerator (here again we see the silly Russian habit of keeping the wrong food cold. Milk can be left out for days and days, but potatoes? No thank you, we like ours cold). Today we finally got around to frying them, and as a result, I smell like grease. And I'm pretty sure that I'm going to smell like grease for the next two weeks. Maybe that'll help draw in the investigators. Well I can hope.

So around Tuesday-ish of last week I discovered that Russian has what I would call every-day-common-usage swearwords, and Bad Ones. Sort of like the difference between our mild taboo words and the words that polite people would never ever ever use... only more so. And, interestingly enough, I discovered this in the middle of a lesson, of all places. HA. I'll tell you all about it next week though, because I don't have enough time this week.

Per usual (though of course that doesn't make it any less), I love you all, I expect you all to stay safe this week, and I expect stories of all the fun things you do without me.

-Calista Davidovna. Missionary Russian-style.

Consider this your own little Post Script

So I forgot to mention that we aren't allowed to give you any other address other than the mission home, and in any case it's not such a good idea because of the unreliability of the postal service around here (and I mean it's incredibly unreliable. The mailbox just above ours, for example, is held together with string and tape), and because of course we never know how long we'll be anywhere.

AND also, if, dad, you felt it necessary to send me a recording of Cantico singing, well, I know for a fact that it would be enjoyed. AND allowed, which is possibly the importanter of the two. Yes, importanter. President Pratt is fairly liberal with the music we're allowed to listen to, and since I'm pretty sure there aren't any obscene lyrics and/or romantic overtones in your music, well...

Anyway, I'm really out of time now, so for realsies this time (Oh Steven. How's that kid doing, anyway?), Good day to you all.

Christmas is coming...

Okay okay okay, so it's Monday (obviously) and I've chosen to write you all first, because Saturday was Zone Conference, and that of course meant that President and Sister Pratt were both here for the weekend, and THAT means that they know exactly what's going on with us right now. Actually, now that I think about it, they may still be here, because we had a snowstorm blow in here AND in Vladivostok last night. In any case, it's Monday and PDay, Zone Conference was amazing as usual, and we've finally got time to do some updating for the family. So.

First things first: As of this year I will be spending Christmas in Korea, which is both awesome and lame at the same time. Because there are only 5 of us sisters in the mission, and because Sister Lewis, my MTC companion, also has to be in Korea with me, Sister Ivanova will be flying up to Khabarovsk to hang out with Sister Kavalovskaya (have I mentioned that Cyrillic doesn't look pretty in Romanic? Well it doesn't.), which of course means that the investigators there will get a lot of attention and ours won't get any. Oh well. Also, I hear the temple in Korea will be closed because it's Christmas and all, and that's also a bummer. Guess there's always March.

And that brings me to point number two... ish. Because it doesn't really work out for me to call you on Christmas day here (Silly Russians don't know how to celebrate holidays properly. As far as they're concerned, Christmas is sometime in January), And since Christmas for me isn't even Christmas for you anyway, sometime on the 26th (my time) I'll be calling, but I'm not entirely sure when exactly because we're flying into Vladivostok or Khabarovsk or some other completely foreign place in the morning and then from there on to Sakhalin... assuming of course that we don't get transferred, at any rate. Given the fact that President himself said it would be so, I'm assuming we're here to stay at least another 7 weeks after the 21st (short transfer this time around, just in case you're wondering. Easier to get flights for the new elders coming in, or something). In any case, that probably means I'll need a phone card, but if you send me one you'd better do it quickly because mail here is rather on the slow side. I'll see if I can locate one here in the meantime.

Speaking of things I need to find here, my stupid battery charger, which, okay, I didn't actually purchase, randomly decided to die the other day, and as of this moment I have no way to charge my batteries. So I need to find one that's relatively cheap and that cooperates with the outlets here. See also: Actually works. Welp. Good luck, I suppose. More on that one as things happen. When I do get one though, I promise I'll start sending photos... though that's another one of those dunno how's I'm currently working on, and if dad you would be so kind as to send me a thumb drive, well, that would be just thrilling. Pleaseandthankyou.

So I made another new friend this week. Sister Ivanova and I were tracting in some buildings on the east side of our area (we found open buildings to tract in! Hooray!) around... wednesday ish, and we'd found somebody who, while interested in our message, wasn't actually interested in opening the door to talk to us, for some reason. So we were doing our best to be as loud as possible while still not being loud enough to overly disturb the neighbors when we heard barking on the floor below us. Then about 30 seconds later a black dog of medium-ish size (we found out later that his name is Misha) ran up the stairs and over to us, still barking. Apparently he'd decided I was the least friendly of the two of us, because he circled Sister Ivanova once, then came over to me and promptly bit me on the foot. I looked down at him and I thought to myself, "Really? Really? That's my foot. I need that." It didn't hurt of course, and it didn't even leave a mark on my boot, but still. He bit me! Lame. After that we figured we were done tracting in that building, so we walked as calmly as possible down the stairs and out the building, with Misha following along behind (still barking). Outside we met his owner, who sadly wasn't interested in the gospel, and who also wasn't very interested in the behavior of her furred nuisance, but she also wasn't horribly opposed to seeing us again. So...  We shall see how we feel about that one. And here I thought all those crazy dog stories were just myths they told the greenies to scare them. Huh. Live and learn, I suppose.

Welp. I'm all out of amazing things to say this week, and in any case I've still got to write to President Pratt (although the why is a little beyond me at this point, I will admit. Rules are rules though). I love you all, I expect you all to have an amazing week, and if there's anything you want from Korea, well, you've got until the end of my mission to let me know. See also: Stay safe and happy. Yes, both together.

-Sister Read. Calista-style.