A Need for Willing Men (or Put Your Shoulder to the Wheel) 17
June 2103
Last Monday brought an outing to the Costco Twin, PriceSmart with my
Bassett friends from Wyoming.
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My
(first) errands were outside of PriceSmart, hunting communication hardware for Val. I went to Office Depot, who asked me to
return later, ran across the street to Radio Shack, who told me to try a
different nearby Radio Shack, near the Do It Center (“Indufesa,”)
yes a Home
Depot look-alike, but a lot smaller. “Do It Center” had a phone connector, but not a headset. Radio Shack #2 told me to go to Cariba
Computadors, who told me to try “Made In China” (Pronounced “Maday Eeen
Cheena” and a good 15 minute walk away). I finally decided to cut my losses and return
to PriceSmart, where I began to lose hope
that the Bassetts might have endured my endless odyssey.
I did gather my needed items there, with eyes out for Bassetts, just in
case, heading out the receipt line to solicit help from a kind clerk, who
led me to the customer service counter for paging and a telephone. I called home to learn that my friends had returned for obligations at home. “Iba
sola,” I was going it alone. Val offered
to come by taxi to retrieve me.
(Groan.) However, in the process of
helping me, the customer service assistants found a manager who spoke English. Asking for advice, I heard that the
taxistas, especially ones with radios, were generally safe. “But, I could drive you home in our personal security vehicle,” which he
promptly obtained and met me, my purchases, and the pouring rain at the entrance.
On the way home, he told me how he knew English: his father worked for the Honduras Consulate
from the time he was about 8 until age 13, in New York City. His family lived in New Jersey for several
years and he attended school there. When
I directed him to our home, I gathered that an aunt and uncle of his worked in
the temple. He willingly accepted my
gift of un Libro de Mormon which we have purchased in Spanish and
personalized to share with taxistas.
Not a taxista, but a “generosa gerente”, kind manager. And as President Amado says, quoting
Shakespeare, “All’s well that ends well!”
Tuesday, I was supposed to have a BYU MTC language tutor
interview. Val had a concurring
telephone conference, so we tried to add the MTC Senior Spanish materials (Do
email me if you want them, I thought they were straight forward, easy to
follow, and they make the reader feel, if not super smart, at least like
trying.) Well, in the middle of
downloading, our building internet cut out.
No phone call. No Spanish
materials. I dressed and walked to the
temple, worked 8 or 9 hours, and walked home.
Upon reviewing the download, Val’s eyes grew wide. “My new laptop is full, Laurene. How did that
happen?”
I did not know. We looked under my “Language Training” folder
and found 167 gigabytes. For perspective, our friend Greg, who services computers at Weber State University computers, taught us that the United States Library of
Congress will fit on a 10 gigabyte drive.
Translation: during our work shift,
the computer had somehow downloaded 17 Libraries of Congress! The next morning, we learned how to delete the file. We deleted and
started fresh. I like this
arrepentimento (starting over fresh) principle, most days.
In the meetings this
week, most of the meaning translated straight across. Wednesday, I finished the Book of
Mormon in Espanol--just shy of 4 weeks since we have been here. I jested to Hermana Ocampo
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and a few others
that “Now I have the gift of tongues…I simply need to open it!” But seriously, understanding is becoming more
doable, and I believe that Heavenly Father is opening my eyes and my
understanding, like a flower whose petals are warming to the light.
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Speaking of opening, I have been working at arriving closer
to “on time.” This is dicey sometimes with a locker in the baptistery, where sizable young women groups shower
after their excursions.
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One day, I
arrived with two minutes dressing time.
The room was empty! But, the door
to my locker was unarguably locked. No
one inside and no way in--except one! I
am learning the meaning of the word “arrastrarse.” I found in Genesis 3:13 something about this: “sobre
tu vientre te arrastrarás” (upon thy
belly shalt thou go)”
Well, I got
to try it firsthand! And I was not (too) late.
Another day, a volunteer was needed in the oficina, where all
the family file cards and indexed names get “registered” into computers. When the bar code scanner accepts a completion of a baptism, confirmation, or other individual or family work, a twinkling sounds like a soft bell ringing. I decided that it was
similar to “It’s a Wonderful Life” where Clarence, one of the angels gets his
wings.
Back to lockers…another day this week, I arrived with a
large group just beginning their descent upon the lockers. Again, I had just a couple of minutes. Arbitrating the entrance time, I slipped in
to my locker, secured needed clothing and rushed for the elevator. Landing inside, I looked up to see President
Amado step inside. “Oh, no!”
“What?!” He replied. (He lived in San Francisco for
years, and served his mission in Central Washington—a breath of English air,
when a soul is in dire straits.)
“Well, I was thinking about changing in the elevator!”
“Well, you had better be fast!” (The elevator may take 20 seconds.) So I found the Obrera dressing room and
changed, elevated up the “ascensor” and made our meeting in time to have
President Amado asked me how I was.
“Super Obrera!” I enthused!
On Wednesday during one of the sessions, there was slight alarm. The officiator
looked at me with a little urgency: “We need men. Could you go get some?” He said this with his eyes and a few hand
motions. Eager to help, I rushed out the
door. Realizing he had asked the Wrong
Obrera, I headed to the women’s dressing room for Spanish help, anxiously
indicating: “Necesitamos HOMBROS ahorita!” ("We need SHOULDERS now!") Promptly a
woman ran to get a packet with clothing that would fit on someone’s
shoulders.
“No, no hombros! HOMBRES!”
I was directed to the men’s corridor and rounding up some true hombres,
have presently been sufficiently schooled in the difference between hombros and
hombres!
Friday was my first contact with the BYU language specialist. It went well, and I made a goal to learn 5 new
vocabulary words and 5 new verbs every day.
What I learned at the door of the
second session that I helped with is that a door handle is called “abrir la
puerta” (amazing! “Open the Door”) Great
word! My helper also told me that one
of the doors like my mom’s that has a hole to peer into is called “Mira la
Puerta”! If all the vocabulary words are
this straight forward, I am going to do well.
For Spanish learning friends, here are some Spanish helps my
tutor offered.
1 slowspanish.com (comprehension and
pronunciation)
2 conjuguemos.com (a vocabulary/verb
conjugation;
3 Quizlet.com (a flashcard website that helps with
things like Spanish food, etc.)
4 Spanishdict.com
Father's Day
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was full—why I am writing late—we learned about
Eleanor’s 6th birthday Pirate Party, Lanae’s big day 6/17, Kristen
and Zach being invited to a weekly party at the neighborhood Spencer
nursery—the whole family! I think I need
to teach them what I am learning about the difference between pescados
(fish—you know—the fishy crackers) and sins (that get washed away with water
and hard work!)
Speaking of water, I have figured out now why Val and I are
here just a little younger than a few.
We heard that President Monson was lowering the ages of missionaries, maybe
got a little mixed up, but didn’t hear that it could not include younger couples, so decided to “catch the wave!”
President Thredgold assured us that we would
feel close from afar. And Sunday, we gratefully got to talk with every one of our children. All eight are great!! Thank you for caring, for reading, for
putting your HOMBROS to your personal “ruedas” (wheels.)
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May your duty be filled with a heart filled with song! Love to you, Hermana Laurene and Elder Val
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