Dad never did tell me how the Super Bowl turned out.

 (Editor's note: this will probably be Calista's last mission post, since she comes home Saturday.)


And I'm so disappointed. Here I was, a lonely (well, ish. A companion, other missionaries, and amazing members don't count here. To say nothing of the amusing people on the street... which reminds me - I almost got another proposal this week. He was drunk (no real surprise there) and sort of hovering around while we were trying to talk to a more-or-less interested man beside him. He didn't have much interest in hearing about the Gospel (he did take a blank pass-along card (reserved for just these sort of occasions) when I handed it to him, though), but when he figured out that we were from AMERICA the interest level went up about 500%. Coincidentally, that was also the time we figured we should be making our escape, and we did so. I've already forgotten what I started this parenthetical thought with, but hey, at the very least I'm going to remember to close the parenthesis off. See?) Oh right, missionary. Lonely missionary, wandering along the streets in Far East Russia (or, as Sister Jarman and I have taken to affectionately calling it, "Mars") wondering how in the world the Super Bowl ended, and who won... although admittedly I can't actually recall who it was that was playing. But. That's not the Point. Upon opening my email today I was severely disappointed to find that in my inbox was not, as might be expected, the results of the Super Bowl, but instead mere LETTERS. And entertaining ones, at that. Siiiiigh. Life as a missionary is such a difficult thing sometimes.

In any case, last week I forgot to congratulate Steven with his birthday (which is what they do around here... as though it's a miracle you managed to survive another year), so I figured I'd do it now... eight days away from my own birthday. So. With the birthday Steven, with the birthday.

I don't know if I've told you about District Language Study before now, but it's something that President Pratt instituted as a way to help us help each other speak, read, write, and generally make better use of the Russian language. We meet twice a week and do various and sundry language-oriented tasks such as reading from the scriptures, learning something grammatical, practice speaking, and the like. Sometimes it's entertaining, sometimes, well, it's like a language class. Yesterday we decided to practice our Russian-to-English translating skills and the results were extremely hilarious... especially when the word for "train car" was mistranslated into "fire" (they are very close) and the sentence became, "and she sat in the fire for a good fifteen minutes." Good times. I was thinking about it the other day, and I realized that I'm going to go back to hearing church in English, which is just weird. I've sat in church in Russian since the MTC, and I'm having trouble wrapping my mind around the concept of 100% understandable church. Who's going to do the translating? Maybe I'll make use of my Returned Missionary Awkwardness and translate for myself. ... or something.

Anyway, as far as potential family pictures go, I hope you're prepared to have a just-returned-from-Russia-on-

an-airplane me in the picture, because I can't make too many guarantees about what I'm going to look like. I'm all for the "color theme" you picked, and I guess you can find me something to wear if you'd like. I'm not feeling too picky about much of anything at this point (except of course what I want to eat on my birthday... if at all possible. I've been thinking about Red Robin hamburgers for the last... oh, probably two weeks of my life. They sound extremely delicious. Just for the record).

But, I suppose that's all I've got for you. It's been real, it's been fun, and... I'll just let you fill that one in yourselves. I dunno what I'm going to do without my weekly Monday afternoon (I can be redundant. I'm a missionary) letters home. Guess I'll have to fill them in with something. Enjoy the week though, and try not to do too many stressful things.

Love you!
-Sister Read

Monday Februray 7, 2011. Afternoon.

Sometimes I start these letters and I feel like I should put them in the same format as my "Writing to President" letters, which, as a general rule, tend to go something like this:

Dear Family,

We spent a lot of time out on the street this week, which was probably good for us. Nobody was really interested in actively investigating the church, but at the very least we did get some good conversations in, and they've got our information. The weather warmed up too, which was nice because it meant that we could walk around for longer periods of time without feeling like we were putting our fingers and toes at serious risk. Next week should be pretty good as well.

Thanks for everything!

Sister Read

Well, okay, maybe my letters to President aren't quite so cheesy (at least I hope not. Then again, maybe they are, and I'm just not seeing it), but sometimes that's exactly what I feel like I'm writing.

In any case, the weather really DID warm up this week, to the point where I would go hours of a time without a hat on my head and without any negative consequences as a result of that. Miracles really do happen. We did spend a lot of time on the street, but since that's not anything new I don't even know if it's worth reporting. We have been keeping track of all the creative ways people say "no" to us though. Some people like to go for the little wave of the hand, as if they're trying to brush off an annoying fly. Others like to say things like, "no, I did not give you permission to speak to me. You may keep moving." Oh, Russia. This country basically makes my life.

It's nice to know that I'm going to be released on the 20th and not the 19th, by the way. I was trying to imagine going straight to the Church at 9 or 10:00 at night after a reeeeally long flight and it wasn't doing much for me. But. I guess that's all in the past, so now I just have to look forward to seeing everybody in the airport (I am, lest anybody think that it's Not Allowed, officially giving my permission for people to be there at the airport when I come home, although they're the ones who are going to have to deal with me after many many hours of flights).

Anyway, I'm running out of time, so I guess I'll end this. Love you all, see you in a couple of weeks!

-Sister Read

And thus another Russian January ends.

I don't actually know what makes it a Russian January as opposed to an American January (the cold obvoiusly doesn't count because it gets cold everywhere), but we'll just call it good and keep moving forward... or something.

So I forgot to tell you this last week, but I thought I'd let you know how amused I was when I read that they'd like me to speak in Sacrament Meeting on the 27th, which, as dad pointed out, would give me a few days to decompress a bit after I get home. My first thought on reading it was, "holy cow, they've given me an entire week! What am I supposed to do with that much preparation time?" Obviously I've been in Khabarovsk too long, where speakers have an occasional tendency to not show up the day they're supposed to speak, and Elder Kevern (fellow missionary/Branch President), upon finding this out looks over at me as I'm playing prelude and asks, "So, what did you learn during personal study today?" Ha. I guess the moral of this story is that I'd be happy to speak on the 27th, and if they want to give me a topic that's fine, and if they don't, well, I think I'll be able to come up with something on my own. It might be a recounting of my reading in the Book of Mormon, but at least it'd be something.

In any case, as far as doing things when I get home (seeing as how it'll be President's Day weekend and everything), I am up for absolutely anything and everything, as long as it means I don't have to spend long hours trying to convince people on the street that yes, although it is in fact too cold for a conversation on the street, and although you do seem to be in a hurry, you really do want to hear what it is that we've got to offer, and it'll give us all the benefit of getting out of the cold for a few minutes. So if we want to go to the beach, I'm up for that. Or the outlet stores. Or even the Imaginarium in Seattle, although I will admit that I don't actually know what that is. Something tells me that the activity isn't going to matter so much as the lack of airplane-age is. So. I leave it in your hands to decide. Surprise me.

In other news, Sister Ivanova (my first companion, you will remember) apparently went and got herself married last week, which is of course wonderful, but also a little weird for me, because we were only just serving together this time last year and she hasn't been home all that long in any case. But I wish her all the best nonetheless.

Anyway, that's all I've got for you this week. Enjoy the warm weather (or as they say here, "Just wait until the winds start next week!"), try to do something entertaining, and... well, I guess you can't go to the temple until the 15th, but in that case be thinking temple-y thoughts this week.

Love you,
Sister Read

They sent me my flight plans...

But it's okay (ish). Somehow, despite the fact that President swore it was impossible, they got me a ticket on the 19th (hooray!), which is infinitely better than the 14th or the 12th or any other ridiculous date like that. I consider myself satisfied... even if I do have several long layovers ahead of me. Life continues on, I suppose, and I've got more time to run around in the snow and cold (which, okay, isn't the North Pole. But that doesn't make it any more comfortable).

The weather has warmed up considerably this last week, and so of course we had lots of things to do inside. Ha. One of our less-active members works at a zoo outside of town, and she asked us to come do some service and clear off some of the paths up there. Not being ones to say no to a good service opportunity (or a free tour of all the animals (we watched them feed the tiger and they let us pet the moose. Hooray!), we donned our best winter service clothes (I am officially completely incapable of wearing normal pants, for the record. When did my life become all about skirts?) and rode the bus for an hour to get there. We shoveled snow for about two hours, warmed up in proper Russian fasion by drinking tea, and then went out and shoveled again. Not a bad way to spend a few hours, if I do say so myself.

I don't actually know what else to tell you all about this week. But hey, Geoff's birthday is coming up... Hippo Birdies Geoff! That's potentially a quarter of your life gone past. Congratulations! If I were truly Russian I would wish you all sorts of things like a long marriage, lots of kids, lots to drink, many holidays off work, and generally everything that you'd expect from a Russian mouth. I'm still not Russian (although Sister Jarman tells me I act much more like it than I think I do), but what the heck. I'll wish them for you anyway. Except possibly for the drinking part.

Anyway, that's all I've got for now. I love you all, I expect you to have a good week, and I hope the time doesn't run out before I finish this sentence.

Love,
Sister Read

-33 is cold, yes.

But, and this is the important point here, it's not nearly as cold as -37. HOLY COW. I think I understand why animals caught in traps will occasionally bite their own legs off to get free. I think I may have done the same to my fingertips if I thought it would've made them any warmer. Thank you everybody, I've officially had my fill of disgusting and cold. I will be coming home in February with suntan lotion on, and I will be spending several hours in the sunshine (rain. Whatever. The point is that it isn't going to be cold) every day. In fact, I think I'd rather we all just took a family vacation to Hawaii. I'll talk to the People in the Office and get it arranged so that I fly straight there and you can all just meet me in the airport... wherever the airport is located in Hawaii. Then I'm going to head to Arizona. And possibly Mexico. Feel free to join me as time and funding permits.

On the plus side, however, they say it's not going to get nearly that cold again. I'm not sure how much of that I believe, but I'll take whatever they give me at this point.

On the other plus side, nasty illnesses all seem to have... mmm... if not disappeared, then at the very least they've made themselves a little more scarce and less noticeable in my life. I've been offered several home treatments to try from a few well-meaning people, but seeing as how half of them involve either pine oil, garlic, or cabbage (or, as in one case, all three together), I haven't actually gotten around to trying them out yet. Then again, who knows? Maybe it's because I haven't tried any of the native remedies that I keep getting sick. Maybe I'm supposed to be building up an immunity here. HA.

In any case, this week was one of those on-the-street kinds, which you may or may not have noticed already from the first paragraph I wrote. The funny thing is though, nobody seems to want to do much in the way of stopping and talking when the temperatures drop. Huh. Who would have thought? Sister Jarman and I have taken to looking through all the Conference Liahonas and trying to find (a) Sister Missionaries on Temple Square and their plastic-covered copies of the Book of Mormon, (b) Young women looking contemplatively off into the distance, and (c) The Jodi Dress, which, for those of you not quite familiar with the Sister Missionary Standard of Dress, is that wonderful piece of fabric favored by many sister missionaries which looks like a really long button-up shirt and has all the shape of a bag of potatoes. Then we spend our time on the street (when there's nobody around and/or nobody interested) discussing how we're going to use all three things (the plastic BoM, the contemplative face, and the Jodi Dress) to get ourselves into every issue of Conference from here on out. Ha. We figure that combining them is going to make our chances that much more likely. Now I just have to figure out where I'm going to get myself a Jodi Dress without actually going to the effort of actually purchasing one. Maybe I'll be able to find one in the cast-offs hanging around our appartment. Basically what I'm saying here is don't be surprised when and if you see me in one when I get home. Ha.

Anyway, I dunno what else to add here. We've got plans to hit some of the more souvenier-y type stores later today, so I'll probably be getting around to actually getting things for people, nesting dolls and all. Oh, and I did get Grandpa's letter (and enjoyed it very much), and, not to worry, I will definitely be bringing The Hat home. I paid too much money to leave it here.

But that's all you get for this week. I love you all, I know for a fact that your week was much warmer than mine (and therefore I don't think I need to tell you all to have a warm one this week), and I expect this week to be an entertaining one. For everybody.

Much love,
Sister Read. Still have all my fingers and toes, don't worry.

Just call me Sister Cultured.

So the Moscow Ballet Company was in town this week, doing performances of The Nutcracker in a local sports arena. They had one performance on the 7th (Christmas. Ha) and we got permission from President Pratt to make that our cultural activity for the transfer (incidentally, we also found out transfers last week. It seems that I'm going to be in Khabarovsk with Sister Jarman until the end of my mission. Huh. Who would've seen that one coming?). So now I can officially say that I have not only seen The Nutcracker, but I have seen it In Russia, and performed by a Russian Ballet Company. I'm just so cultured.

In other news, the temperature continues to drop as the days go by (-33 this week), and one of the natives' favorite things to do when they see us on the street is to cheerfully inform us that, "it's going to get worse!" They say it's going to keep getting colder until the 19th or 20th of this month, and then, THEN, lest we think that we might be somehow in the clear after that, the winds are going to start. Basically what I'm saying here is that it's a good thing we still have some of the little handwarmers floating around (note to those who have or will have missionaries in Russia in the future: hand/toewarmers save lives... and fingers. Don't be shy about sending them up. I'd ask for more myself, but I'm fairly certain they wouldn't get here in time... especially since our mail tends to sit in the office for months before they actually get it sent up). Now we just need to figure out ways to get people to meet with us so that we can stay off of the street for longer periods of time.

Speaking of The End, I honestly haven't given much thought to what I'm going to be doing when I get home. I figured there was going to be Work in there somewhere, but I really have no idea how long I'm actually planning on staying in Oregon when I get there, but I also have no idea where else I'd go before school starts in May or April or whenever I decided to resume my studies. That sort of thing takes too much effort to think about, and so I've basically just shoved it to the very farthest corner of my mind and covered it with boxes. And Christmas decorations. I'll probably get around to thinking about it around the 12th ish (which apparently seems to be my new coming home date... or close to it. If it is, be sure you don't tell me lest I become demoralized). I guess if nothing else fails I could always go for a job as a Russian translator in Walmart.

And since it's been a while since I've given you an amusing conversation on the street, I thought I'd pass along one that I had this week. Sister Jarman and I were standing at a crosswalk waiting for the light to change when I heard a raised voice (see also: the tone of voice that Babushkas usually speak in) behind me and felt a sharp tap on my arm. I turned around and I saw a tiny little babushka in a huge fur coat glaring up at me. When she was sure that she had my attention she asked again (demanded), "The grocery store! Where is the grocery store? I know it's around here somewhere!" To the best of my knowledge (and given that we walk that particular street many times a week, I'm pretty sure that my knowledge is fairly accurate), the closest grocery store to that particular spot was located about 3/4 of a mile to the east. When I told this to the babushka, however, she glared up at me for another ten seconds and then, in a huff, turned and asked an older passer-by the exact same question. Well, I tried.The light changed before I could hear his answer, but I'm pretty sure that he told her the exact same thing. Ha. I love the babushkas.

In any case, that's about all you get this week. I may have an infection in my throat, but I'm pretty sure that it'll go away with the NEW antibiotics (as opposed to the OLD ones I was on last week) I was told to purchase earlier this week. If not, well, I guess there's always something else in the pharmacy. Ha. I kid, of course. It'll go away in the cold weather, I'm sure. But enough about me. Here's hoping that your week is not nearly as cold as mine (and if it was, I'm sure you stayed inside more than I did), and that it was an enjoyable one.

Love you all,
Sister Read

And thus a new year begins

It was Strep Throat, for the record. When I had my throat checked on Wednesday, the first thing they said was, "your tonsils are NOT pretty. Not pretty. I don't even know how I'd describe that. Yech. Amoxicillin, immediately. And don't go out on the street much. And don't do any talking for the next few days." HA. You'd think I was on a mission, or something. So, being the obedient little missionary that I am, I hauled myself over to the nearest pharmacy and (free of perscription and without the pharmacist really looking at me when I told her what I needed) purchased myself a week's worth of 500 mg Amoxicillin tablets, taken three times daily, with meals. And then we stayed home for a week. Hooray!

We did actually get out on New Year's Day when we had our approved District Activity though. We were going to watch something animated and Russian at the theaters (with permission from President Pratt, obviously), but the tickets had sold out by the time we got there and we didn't really feel like trying other locations. So we went back to the church and watched the Joseph Smith movie that they had playing in the Legacy theater a while back. Probably a better choice, all things considered. I enjoyed myself, anyway. Because we aren't allowed to be proselyting on New Year's Day, we all headed home afterwards and spent our time getting some good study in. Did you know, incidentally, that reading the Book of Mormon backwards (by book, not by words) adds a whole new perspective to things? I recommend trying it sometime.

In any case, I decided that you can all have some pictures today. I realized, looking at all the pictures in my camera, that there is probably not a single picture of me and Sister Volkova that doesn't have somebody else doing something ridiculous in the background. So. You get one of me, her, and a random investigator. There's also one of me and Sister Jarman in the snow (if you look closely (and if you can read Russian), you'll notice that her tag actually says "Sister Raid". Yes, she is using one of mine. Hers have all disappeared), and one of me and Sister Jarman... not in the snow, one of the many ice sculptures that they do (this one happens to be the Russian... what do you call that? Coat of arms? Symbol? Something of that nature, anyway) in the winter, and a couple of me in my ridiculous amount of fur... which keeps me very very warm.

I guess that's all you get for now. Tonight we've got lots of street contacting lined up, and that should be interesting... especially after New Year's. I'm trying to get my marriage proposals up to an even 500 before I go home in February. I think I'm only about 45 away. Tonight should add at least another 5.

Anyway, I love you all, I'm very glad it's a new year, I expect this week to be an interesting one (here and there), and I expect you all to enjoy yourselves too.

Much love,
Sister Read. Pretty tonsils or not.