My dearest Mother,
Today there are changes (transfers). Another six weeks came and wandered off again. It’s been a surreal mess of weeks and days and hours. I don’t quite understand how so much has gone by or how so little remains. Three months is two days and a night out here in the mission. I’m actually scared. I don’t feel alright with the idea of coming home.
Just barely started your visas (passports)? Hope you`re gettin’ that one in time. But I suppose that sort of makes everything real. You guys are actually coming to Peru, to Iquitos, to my wards and these people that I love so much. That somehow makes the idea of going back to Utah not quite so painful.
This week was a strange week. An Elder broke some pretty serious laws and got sent home, and the mission sort of snapped. They did an almost-surprise search of all the houses of all the missionaries. In that, they did it, but the people talk fast and the rumors run faster, so it was hardly a surprise. My companion made an offhand joke about the laws of the Sadducees and Jews and I laughed. Past me would so not have understood that one.
I love being in the mission.
Oh, my. Do you guys remember the Blanca and the Cesar? They totally just showed up and ambushed me with gushy hugs. Oh, I love them. You’re so meeting them. They’re crazies.
But all is well here in the mission. I probably—hoping, praying, and crying— that they don’t boot them out.
Pues, nos vemos aproximo semana. Chao, Hna. Compon