What a marvelous week in was. Well Saturday and Sunday, M-F. Very very lame. Bodily had actually contracted Giardia, which meant that we could not leave the house. Yay. In my days hiking and being outside, I had heard of the dangers of giardia but I always shook it off and drank the river water anyway. But NO MORE. I have seen it's effects and would suggest to avoid this plague at all costs. But we got creative with our house time; played hours and hours of dominos, read cool things, and read cool scripture books. I gotta say, I do not wish solitary confinement on any man. It is a bad way to live.
Conference though. MAN, it's always a great weekend when theres conference. Sin embargo, this conference was my first in spanishhh. So it was different but the familiar spirit was still there. Thats how I'll describe it; it's different. Its odd for me to hear the Apostle who's conducting be cut off and replaced by a deep, heavy masculine spanish man voice. At first I said, ''No wait.. I can understand the first one!'' But it's cool, I think that Richard G Scott covered his own talk in spanish, because his talk was clearly an american who magically possessed all the same abilities of putting everyone listening to sleep. My comp doesn't think it was, but I'm tellin ya that it had to be him.
But--
I have a cool story. and if any of you guys still read these letters, you'll be excited too.
Between the Saturday sessions, we ran home to make some lunch. I'll draw out the scene for you: So there I was in the kitchen, making guacamole. Just mashing up some big fat avocados and mashing and mashing. When suddenly, the older elders bust in and tell me that I had to call President. I'm was like ''What?? Why?!'' I thought my life as a missionary was over. While the phone was ringing, I was thinking of any sin I might have commited, or any person that I may have offended in Hato Mayor. So, after we exchanged pleasantries, he asked me: Elder Tate, would you be willing to serve as district leader in Capotillo, Santo Domingo?
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT? After I gather my drooling mouth back off the floor, I stumbled out something, and I think I said yes.
So, Whoop whoop. I'm all packed and I'm tomorrow I'm headed for this awesome cool place called Capotillo. All I've heard is that its pretty sketchy area and a lot of people die there. Don't freak out, Mom. Missionaries don't die, just gansters and angry people. I'll be with a little Guatemalan named Elder Ventura (which translated almost means adventure). He's from the same group as Bodily, and I hear he is incredibly shy. So, I'm excited to break him out of that shell. But yeah, I'm very new to the capital and am excited to see what it's gonna be like.
Bodily goes Capital too, he'll be in Osama so we'll get to see eachother this next p day when all the missionaries get together to play soccer!
I wish I could throw up some pictures.. Evil dominican computers gave the card I've been using a nasty virus.
Other than that, theres not much to report on. I wish to leave with a scripture that a found finishing Alma this past week. It didn't really mean much until I got an email from a friend a few weeks ago. He told me the to be a missionary is to be a minister. And a minister means that you are also in the same terms an Angel. It sounds almost narcissistic to say, but he explained to me that to bring another the gospel means to be an angel. Anyway, I found this past week that Missionaries really are angels and Alma backs it up right here when he says:
23 And now, he imparteth his word by angels unto men, yea, anotonly men but women also. Now this is not all; little bchildren do have words given unto them many times, which cconfound the wise and the learned.
Pretty neat to think about I'd say.
And shoutout to ASHLYN PERRY who leaves for the Santo Domingo West Mission this week. She's a real cool gal.
Ok, thats a big email but you better have like it.
Choose the Right
From
Elder
Tate
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