It's been a great morning here at the MTC. Our district decided to go for a walk to the temple (even though it is closed)--well, Elder Cox and I decided we were going to and everyone else tagged along. I never liked the Provo Temple. I guess its just cause I remember it being so weird looking from the highway when I was small, but it truly is a great place. It was interesting to look down and see that LaVell Edwards Stadium looked so small and sat a lot lower than the temple. It also looks over Utah Lake and West Mountain and all. I never noticed that before. We spent about an hour just sitting on the grounds of the temple and taking things in. So, I guess that's my challenge for all of you this week. Take some time to go sit outside a temple and take in what is really there. Mormon or not, you can sit outside a temple and enjoy the setting.
Anyway, Elder Cox and I had to leave earlier than everyone else because... Well, in the past 2 days my nose has been bleeding. 3 times now. Not even really a full 24 hours yet, actually. The most recent time happened to be at the temple, this time just because, but it might be because of something that happened yesterday. Long story short, I was marking my scriptures last night and someone called my name. So, naturally I stopped and turned my head to look their way. Only to get rocked in the face by a bottle of lotion or hand sanitizer thrown from across the room. So that was another time that may have caused this one this morning, I don't know. But, here I am trying not to bleed on the Provo Temple Grounds, so, naturally my blood gets all over my face, hands, and yes, my white shirt. (I can't send pictures from the MTC, apparently, but I did take a picture.) It was an interesting 10 minute walk back to our residence with my face looking like that of the character of the old-school Doom video game. Long story short, Fels-Naptha (or whatever it is called) saved the day. No more blood, and I haven't even washed it yet. So thank you Marianne/Grandma Andrews/Mom for making me take some.
Also, I don't know what has been going on truthfully because I also have an injured foot. I recently realized that the Reebok tennis shoes I have aren't exactly made for cutting in every direction while playing soccer. I thought I got a blister, but it turns out I just split open my foot. No worries, I took a picture of that too, but it should suffice to simply know that it runs about from the tip of your pointer finger to your second knuckle (on a grown adult with normal sized hands) and is a few centimeters wide. So, I guess I know how Scott feels, cause I don't notice my limp, but apparently it is fairly bad. Anyway, I am even MORE greatful for my shower shoes now since I have an open wound. So thanks again dad for the awesome sandals that you loved.
Also, I was dissapointed not many people resonded with their favorite scripture. To those people, please read Alma 37:46 "Do not let us be slothful because of the easiness of the way." And I'll just leave it at that for that topic.
I ran into Mark Kennedy a few times already (another kid from the State College 1st Ward), he is doing well. It was fun to speak to the new guys in Spanish, cause they have no idea what is going on. Also, Elder Ben Miles, the lacrosse team manager is here, and it just so turns out that he is headed to the Baton Rouge, Louisiana mission Spanish Speaking--where my parents now live. So, that was kind of interesting to hear.
Among my few "afflictions", I think I am in good health though, so don't worry. Also, I now carry with me some paper towel, just in case. I'll probably pick up some tissues later.
Life at the MTC is definitely changing. Mostly for the better. Hermano Walton--who we used to know as Juan Carlos (remember that?)--is actually my teacher, which blew our minds. He is a really good teacher and served his mission in Bolivia and then Peru (I think) because the Bolivian government had some reason where the missionaries needed to leave. He has really halped Elder Cox and I form questions that involve the investigator more instead of just talking at them--which we tended to do since we were trying to say everything perfectly in Spanish.
Also, I now sympathise for the stereotype that many people in Latin America cannot sing (especially Hymns). It is very hard to keep your singing range while speaking in a different language. Especially since almost none of the songs have a dirrectly translated name from English, so you really don't know what song you are singing until about the last verse. It can get a little painful. Especially when singing the Hymns that are ONLY in the Spanish Hymn Book. But, it is what it is.
I'm sure I am forgetting something, as I usually do, but that will have to do. I hope all of you are doing well, and I hope to hear from you soon. Take care in all that you do.
Your favorite:
Missionary, Brother, Son, Grandson, Uncle, Friend, Person,
Elder Caleb O. Andrews
Translations:
Hermano = brother
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