What do you call a sister missionary with no place to live? No, I don't know either.

Dear family family family family family family family,

 

Actually, it isn't quite as bad as that yet. After all, we haven't actually gotten into Vlad yet, and we don't actually know that we have no place to live. I'm ready to go out panhandling if need be though. The landlady wants us to pay several thousand roubles before we leave tomorrow and as of this moment in time it still hasn't appeared in my MSF account. On a completely unrelated note incidentally, don't be surprised if you see lots of money disappear from my personal account before the week ends. On the plus side though, I hear begging on the street corners is actually a very efficient way to find new investigators. No, I lie. I haven't actually heard that, but I figure it's got to be worth a shot though, right? Who wouldn't want to talk to a pair of poor homeless American sisters and their native companion? I for one would be all for that.

 

In any case, as I said, we're leaving tomorrow and that meant that we got to spend all day today packing up the apartment. It's amazing how much junk accumulates even in a Mission apartment after several years. Or maybe that should be ESPECIALLY in a Mission apartment. People leave the silliest things behind. I realized, for example, that the bowl that we use as a candy dish was actually made for an elder who served on Sakhalin a long while back, and it was made by his girlfriend who, I'm convinced, later Dear Johned him. Ha. Good days. It was a very useful bowl though. Such a shame that we had to throw it in the garbage. We did manage to get everything properly boxed-up and/or thrown away though. Now the only thing I'm wondering is where Sister Tolmachova and I are going to sleep tonight, seeing as how the elders came and stole our mattresses and everything (which reminds me, incidentally. The bed bugs weren't, thank goodness. Just a mild case of fleas that went away as soon as the mosquitos started showing up again). Guess the floor's as good as anything. I'll be sure and vacuum a couple dozen times before I go to bed tonight.

 

The temple dedication was amazing, of course. They hooked up the satellite in the church building (yes, they do actually have those in Russia apparently) and they had it broadcast in both English and Russian. President Monson, President Uchtdorf, and Elder Nelson were all there, and they all gave great talks, of course. At one point Elder Nelson started to bear his testimony in Russian (I didn't even know he knew Russian), but since we were watching it in English the silly translator decided to translate for us and we couldn't hear him speak. Lame. Oh well. It was a still a nice way to spend a Sunday afternoon anyway. One of the branch members was in Ukraine during the dedication, and she got to go up and put mortar in the cornerstone. Of course the branch was just thrilled to death about that. It was definitely good for them to see a temple get dedidcated this close to them(relatively speaking, obviously. Ukraine isn't Russia and hasn't been for many years, and the Vladivostok Mission isn't in the Kiev temple district anyway, but still. It's a temple where at least half of those serving within actually speak Russian). Hopefully this will get them more excited about building up the church here so that they can have their own temples. I hear Moscow's actually pretty close to a stake though, incidentally. Apparently we just need to find a few more here who'll get baptized and then move over in that direction.

 

Anyway, that's about all that I've got for now. Congratulations dad on getting to sing Rachmaninoff in Russian (send me a copy! I want to hear it!), oh and please pass along a "get well quickly or else" to Grandma Read. She has officially been forbidden from being in pain as of this moment. I sent her a real letter last week, but she probably won't get it for another month or two at the least. But. It will get there.

 

 I love you all, I hope you're all trying to stay safe while preparing for school (yay! School!), and please be sure to enjoy the not-as-warm-as-Vlad weather in Oregon this week. Ha.

 

-Sister Read. Homeless, homeless.

Yesterday I turned 22-and-a-half years old, just in case you all wondered

And that's a huge milestone on a mission. I'm practically ancient. Incidentally, speaking of random not-on-the-transfer-date transfers, next week I'm being transferred again. Guess where? Did you guess Vladivostok? HA. Did not see that one coming. Nope. What happened this time, you see, is that when we arrived on Sakhalin we were informed that our landlady (despite the fact that our contract actually extends until November and it's really totally illegal for her to be doing this... but then again, this is Russia and we're just a couple of foreigners already under suspicion from the government for practically teaching English (they didn't, for the record) so basically she's able to do what she wants and we don't really want to put up a fight about it) intends to move into our apartment herself, on the first of September. Apparently she doesn't want to live with us (dunno why), and that means that we should have already found an apartment by now. The only problem is that apparently it's even harder to find an apartment in Yuzhno than it is in Vlad, and so to this day they're still looking. So. As of Tuesday next week we must absolutely have all of our stuff out of our apartment and evenly divided amongst the elders and we ourselves will be on a flight back to Vlad, where, if things don't actually work out in getting an apartment by the next day, we may be staying with President. Or on the street. Either way. At the very least, it's still warm out, and we've got plenty of supplies to keep us warm and fed. Ha. I'm so amused. Maybe someday I really will get to see other cities in the mission. President told me that if I really wanted to I could parachute out of the plane before we got to Vlad and just walk the rest of the way from wherever I landed. Then I'd really get to see more of Russia. I think I may just take him up on that offer. Now I just need to find an airline that will allow me to do that. Shouldn't be too much of a problem.

 

I've officially decided (and if I've said this once already, well, just go ahead and pretend like it's the first time... per usual, in other words) that I'm going to go to the temple at least once a week when I get home. The Kiev dedication is this upcoming Sunday, and although it doesn't actually make getting to the temple any easier for the members over here, it is still a temple in a half-Russian-speaking country and that is a huge thing. They'll be doing a satellite transmission of the dedication into our building, so we've been trying to get all the members pumped for it. Not that they really needed our help, obviously, but still. We've made sure that they know exactly when it's going to be, at the very least. And they'll all have cute little dedication recommends to keep as souveniers. It's very very very very very very exciting. Yay! New temples! I hear they've nearly got a stake in Moscow, and I'd say that that's a definite possibility because a whole ton of people who get baptized here end up moving in that direction soon afterwards.

 

What else is going on in my life right now? Not much out of the ordinary, I think. We've actually got people to teach, a fact for which I will always be eternally grateful, maybe even to the point of actually giving referrals to the missionaries when I get home (I'm still not sure about that one, though. I may have to think about it some more. And now that I've said that I'm sure we're going to go through another dry spell ourselves. Oh well. If pride comes before the fall I want to make sure that it's going to be as adrenaline-filled as possible. Ha. I kid, really). My companions and I regularly have silly conversations that end with things like, "So what you're saying then, is that the war in heaven was just one big baseball game?" "Yes, and we won by the power of our testimonies!" And the work goes forward. And to think that there was a point in my life when I wasn't sure that I wanted to serve a mission. Ick. Think (well I guess you can't. I will instead) of all the things I might've missed out on.

 

In any case, that's all for now, folks. I love you, I assume your week went well (no news is good news, yes?), and I expect you to have an even better one this week.

 

-Sister Read. Yo-yo.

Speaking of things that they say to you when you sneeze

In Russia they don't mince around with things like, "bless you." (Have I mentioned this before?) They go straight for the command effect and tell you, "Be Healthy!" Works for me, actually. Every time I hear it though, I always feel like there's going to be an "or else" directly following it. Hasn't happened yet, but I figure it's only a matter of time. I think the invisible bugs are starting to go away at last though, and I'm more than okay with that. Unfortunately, they seem to have been replaced by visible ones. No cockroaches in our apartment yet (thank goodness), but I have a sneaking suspicion that we've got fleas, or possibly bed bugs, hanging around somewhere because I wake up every morning covered in little itchy bites. I think I'm ready for winter again.

 

I can't actually remember what I was going to tell you this week. Oh yeah, we had an investigator who was completely golden at the beginning of the week (had read through the Book of Mormon in less than 6 days, and marked all of his favorite scriptures) and then jumped off the deep end when the week finished. Interesting people on a mission. Have I mentioned this? In any case, we've still got a few with good potential (now I feel like I'm reporting to President Pratt) and we'll keep working with them.

 

Incidentally, Christopher actually wrote me a letter this week. An email, actually. I guess that means I should respond to him at some point. I'm so excited to find out what it was that he found for me in the middle of the desert. I can only assume it's going to be just as big of a hit as the giant Brazilian spider and the scorpion suckers (incidentally, my companion never did eat hers. Can't imagine why. Come to think of it, I don't think I did either. And incidentally incidentally, apparently it's still free to send me DearElders because this is officially a Hardship Mission and they want us missionaries to have all the home support we possibly can, or something. I don't actually know if it is free, but I guess it can't hurt to check it out, right? I'm never against more letters... even if I am terrible at writing them myself. Just a thought for you all. You know, just in case.

 

In any case, since I still can't remember what I was going to tell you about this week (it came, it went, and as of Thursday this upcoming week I am officially coming home in six months and that's just disgusting. I can't have been out for more than a year already) so I'll give you a few amusing anecdotes about one of the most amusing places in Russia, namely: The Post Office.

 

Back when I was serving with Sister Ivanova, she wanted to send a letter to somebody who lives in America. We went to the Post Office, found an empty window, and asked how much it would cost to send a letter to America. The lady at the window responded, "Not within my range of service. You want Window 7." So we walked over to Window 7. "A letter? to America? No, no, no. We only handle letters to former Russian territories. You need Window 3. Information." So we stood in line at Window 3 (where, for the record, the word, "Information" was not written anywhere within visibility range) for ten minutes and finally got to ask, "How much to send a letter to America?" "22.5 roubles, but we don't sell those stamps at this window. You need Window 4. Oh wait, Window 4 is closed today. Window 2, then." Window 2 did indeed have the stamps that we needed, but they wouldn't let us purchase them without an envelope and then they wouldn't let us stick them on the envelope ourselves. Ha. Oh, Russia.

 

Another time, Sister Kovalevskaya wanted to send an already-prepared letter off and was told, "we aren't accepting letters to be sent right now. Come back in an hour."

 

Then, about a week or two ago, Sister Lewis wanted to buy 20-rouble stamps at a different Post Office here on Sakhalin. She got up to the counter and told the lady that she needed a sheet of 20-rouble stamps, another sheet of 3-rouble stamps, and a third sheet of .10-rouble stamps. The lady went back into what I assume was the storage area, stood around for about 30 seconds and then came back and said, "We aren't carrying 20-rouble stamps." So Sister Lewis asked, "Okay, what about 10-rouble stamps?" The lady went back in again, stood around, and came back out. "Nope. None of those." Well then. "Do you have 5-rouble stamps?" Back she went, and another 30 seconds later we hear, "Nope, none of those either!" I think Sister Lewis had had enough by that point, because she said, "okay, fine. I'll just take the 3-rouble stamps then." (Mind you, it costs 9 roubles to send a letter throughout Russia, and therefore in theory there should be an abundance of 3-rouble stamps everywhere. Even on Sakhalin.) "Nope, sorry. We're all out of those too." Haha. Oh man. I love this system.

 

Welp, I guess that's all you get for this week. I love you, try to keep safe, and... go to the temple for me. Please?

 

-Sister Read

Did I mention that August is Sick Month?

Really now. I think they need to make it a national holiday or something. I thought I had food poisoning on Wednesday of last week. Then when it hadn't gone away yesterday I finally gave in and called Sister Pratt. Apparently it isn't food poisoning, because all of the elders and President Pratt had it in Vlad. That means they shared. Hooray! In any case, we've been officially put on lock-down mode for 24 hours (except for buying groceries and writing home. You should feel so privileged that you're getting a letter from me this week), and I get to eat clear liquids and rice. Yay! It's a good thing it's raining today. Maybe I'll go and get some hand-written letters out. It's only been about 10 years since I last sent one, right?

 

On a happier note, the Jones family invited the Bondar family over for dinner last Friday, and since the former aren't quite fluent in Russian (although I'll give Sister Jones this - she's getting there) and the latter don't speak much English, we got invited along as Official Translators/Missionary Presence. Admittedly, we weren't actually needed as Missionary Presence, given that both families are extremely active members in the branch, but you just never know when a non-member might show up unexpectedly. That was the logic I was partially banking on, at any rate. Sister Jones made ribs (delicious) and salad and spinach dip and cookies with ice cream and it was all extremely delicious. Can we have red meat when I come home? I know pork doesn't actually count as red meat, but that's what it reminded me of. In any case, I figure the evening was a success, because there was conversation and laughter pretty much for the entirety of the meal. I'm not going to lie, it always impresses me how much people can communicate with those who don't speak their language. I don't think they actually needed a tranlator. Amazing what knowing a few words and playing charades will do for you.

 

I also made a new friend this week. He tried to steal my Book of Mormon (didn't try. Did steal, actually. It's always easier just to give them up than try to hold on to them. Seems like keeping them for myself defeats the point of handing them out anyway) and then stood and stared at me for a full minute without saying anything. I tried to engage him in conversation, but he didn't reply so we decided to head off and find somebody a little more receptive. I guess that wasn't what he had in mind though, because he followed along beside me and started repeating to himself, "American. She's American. Ameeeeeeerican." Another case of deja vu for me, apparently. We managed to shake him off eventually though, and he even gave back the Book of Mormon before he left. All's well that ends well, I guess. Or Something. In any case, I think I've nearly hit my limit of talking to strange people on the street. When I get home in February I won't be continuing this tradition. Just so you know.

 

Anyway, that's all you get this week. I love you, try not to inhale the smoke (incidentally, the air's been quite clear here the last few days. Quite lovely), and don't catch whatever's going around these days.

 

-Sister Read

August showed up this week. I don't think anybody's really noticed.

I feel like I should be singing a song of some sort. Something merry and sunshine-y. Maybe it's because the sun is actually shining outside and the temperature actually feels like it's summer outside. I won't go so far as to say August, but it is summer all the same. Hooray!

We got together with the district today and watched The Other Side of Heaven. Kinda helps to put things in perspective I guess, but still. John Groeberg definitely did not serve in Russia in 2010, and I obviously am not serving in Tonga in the 50's. Hooray! I'd write my own memoir about what happens here, but something tells me if they made a movie out of it it'd be more of a comedy than a drama. I think I'm okay with that, actually.

Just in case you wondered, and per usual I know that you did, August is sick month. I don't know why. But it is. One of the elders caught a nasty cold and then passed it along to me. That put me down for a day or two, and then just as I was starting to feel like I could actually spend a little more time in the rain, I passed it along to Sister Lewis and things started all over again. Luckily Sister Tolmachova (incidentally, did I mention that we're still serving in a threesome? Well we are. And we probably will be until November, because we just had a new sister come in two weeks ago (making the grand total of sisters in the mission 5) and they don't like to have people trained in threesomes. Makes things a little difficult, apparently. Basically what I'm saying here is that we'll probably be in a threesome and on Sakhalin until November, when we get another new sister (that means six sisters. Six! We've only had an even six for one transfer... and that was because Sister Kovalevskaya went home a transfer late instead of a transfer early). Should be entertaining) didn't manage to catch it (yet) so things are looking like they'll be clearing up soonish. Another two or three weeks, I'm sure. In the meantime, I'm playing faucet, and I'm trying a new contacting method I call "Snuffle at them until they give in and give us a number." I'm enjoying it, at least.

We also had Zone Conference this week, which was awesome, of course. Since they created districts within the zones, Sakhalin and Khabarovsk are officially located in one zone, and that means we get conferences together instead of separately. Last transfer Sakhalin missionaries flew into Khabarovsk, and that meant that this transfer it was Sakhalin's turn to host. And since (for the first time in the entirety of my mission) all the sisters are actually located in one Zone, we had our own little party all together on Friday, in our tiny little apartment. Good times. It was definitely weird having all the sisters in the mission together though. I'd forgotten what it was like to have that many people (yes, five is a lot) sleeping all in one apartment. Cozy, yes. And also slightly hilarious, at least for me. We only have the one bathroom (obviously), and there are two (only two) mirrors located in the apartment. That made for lots of very careful negotiating and very polite twisting and turning around one another in order to see ourselves as we did hair/makeup/whatever else other sisters get up to and happen to need a mirror for. I laughed, but mostly quietly. We did manage to make it to Conference on time though, much to my personal surprise. Miracles do happen.

Anyway, that's all I've got for you and it's too warm (!) in this building. I love you all, have a good week, and try not to get too much in the way of sunshine this week.

-Sister Read