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
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