My first real experience of Peru came right after we landed in Lima and left the airport. All the missionaries were put on a bus that was to take us to the CCM (centro de capacitacion misional). That bus ride was the scariest thing that had happened to me up to that point in my life! I couldn't believe the bus driver was allowed to own a license. He was driving like a maniac. He went up on curbs and sidewalks to get around slower traffic, was constantly accelerating or coming to an abrupt stop, and honked at just about anything that bugged him. Not to mention I was wide eyed staring at the city passing by through the windows wondering what I was doing! It was quite an experience and I was outwardly relieved when we finally pulled into the CCM. Upon arrival we were told what room we were staying in and to go to our rooms and put our luggage away. After that, we were to go directly to a meeting with our CCM president. Our meeting was like any other normal church missionary meeting; however, the exciting part was meeting our new companions, Latin elders from nearby countries. I was paired with Elder Porroa who happened to be from Peru. I had just arrived in country and was now paired with someone with whom I could hardly communicate with. Talk about being thrown right into the fire! However, hindsight is 20/20 and looking back I realize that for me, this was the most excellent start to my mission. It helped me leave everything in my life behind and focus on my purpose for being in Peru. It also helped me to immediately adjust to life in another country speaking another language. Even though everything was a bit shocking at first, it greatly expedited my development as a missionary.

One of my most favorite missionary memories occurred while I was in Lima, Peru. One day while proselyting my companion and I decided to visit a part of our area we rarely had time to go to because it was so far away. While we were walking through the streets I noticed a house and had that little feeling that a member lived there. I thought to myself, "it's probably just my mind making things up". We kept on walking but I couldn't shake the feeling that a member lived in that house. So I decided to follow my instincts and told my companion that we should go knock on the house because I believed a member lived there. He agreed and we headed over. Just for background information sake, houses in Lima were flat roofed so that if the family decided later to add another floor to the house they could. Most of the time the roof was accessed by a stair case and people would do their laundry up there. As we reached the house I told my companion to knock on the door but he hesitated as he was a little self conscious and asked me to knock. I told him to just knock and he again denied. The roof was sticking out over the entry way which was only big enough for one person to stand in. My companion moved out of the way so I could knock on the door and he stood under the roof. I knocked a few times and waited. I noticed that my companion had started to squirm a bit and looked over at him. A steady stream of water was falling on his head and splashing on his jacket. He couldn't look up to see what it was because it would have hit him in the face. Right as this was going on the door opened and I looked at the sister who had opened it. Her eyes got so big when she saw what was happening to my companion said, "Elder! I am so sorry! My dog has this problem and pees off the roof whenever someone knocks on the door!" I heard that and busted a gut laughing as my companion raced pass me into the house to wash off! I must have laughed for the entire day. It was the funniest thing I had seen in a while! Poor elder Arista!

This blog (while created mainly for a class at BYU) is meant for Kate Allen and her future siblings. Here I plan to write about stories that happened to me while on my mission in Peru/Bolivia that I would like to not only remember but share with my posterity. So here goes!
The past few days I've been thinking about PabloFernandez. He lived in Villamontes, Bolivia and was deaf and mute. I remember my very first time teaching him about the church. He couldn't read books, couldn't read lips, and only communicated through sounds his family recognized which had certain meanings and through a Spanish form of charades! So naturally a brand new Bolivian elder and a white guy from the United States were about to have an interesting time teaching this man. I grew up with a down syndrome brother that has a severe speech impediment so I at least was somewhat prepared to teach using charades, but to do charades in Spanish was a whole other ball game! Every lesson involved a lot of pictures and acting out. Even though this was difficult I still felt like my companion and I were able to help Pablo understand our message. An important lesson we taught to Pablo involved the code of health we refer to as the Word of Wisdom which specifically details that as members of the Church we do not drink coffee, alcohol, or use drugs; the three of which Pablo had problems with! We did our best to teach him that he shouldn't use cocaine or drink coffee or alcohol. We felt like he understood the importance of why this was important to become a member of the church. The next day while my companion and I were walking by the local community college we ran into Pablo's two nieces. I had been wondering how well Pablo understood our message from the night before and asked his nieces what they thought. They told me that after we had taught Pablo the word of wisdom and left his shack he went to his truck he slept in, grabbed his cocaine, alcohol, and coffee and through it in the river. Not only did he understand our game of charades, but he understood our message and applied what he learned. He became the watch guard at his families house making sure all inappropriate substances were tossed out! A little while later he was baptized. He will always be one of the most memorable people I have met in my life.