November 22, 2016
Buenos Dias Hijos,
So, we love our Elders Arias and Longobardi and have them in our home every day for breakfast or dinner or dessert or just a cold drink and Dad always sends them home with something more. They are such awesome missionaries, hardworking, dedicated to their callings, and they love to sing, at the top of their voices sometimes, which we hear downstairs through their open windows. Anyway, Dad loves Clamato juice and we were surprised to find out that our little grocery stores sells it, so he buys it occasionally. And when the bottle is empty, we wash it out and he uses it to make awesome limonada, which we share with the elders at times. We’ve lived here for two months now and they drink Dad’s limonada regularly and we have noticed that almost every time they do they pick up the bottle to read the ingredients: tomatoes, garlic, clam juice, etc. One morning last week they were here for breakfast and Dad happened to have not only the limonada but a new bottle of clamato juice, so he got both out and asked the elders which one they wanted to drink. He poured them some clamato juice, which they had never tasted, and just about spit it out of their mouths. The elders looked at each other and then asked, “How can the same ingredients produce two different colors and two different flavors of drink?” At that point Dad told them that he made the limonada in the clamato bottle, and the elders looked at each other and then said, “We couldn’t figure out how these ingredients could create the flavor of the limonada!” For two months these guys were so gullible to think that tomatoes and garlic and clam juice could produce something that tasted like really strong limonada!!!!! We weren’t trying to fool them…we just never thought about it. At the same time Dad and I were wondering why they kept reading the ingredient labels without realizing what these guys were thinking. We ALL had a great laugh, and the elders continue to make fun of themselves that they couldn’t figure that one out. Now they just ask for Clamato limonada.
Last week we decided to check out the playa that we were “warned” about. Cheech, I had visions of crocodiles running around on the beaches and on the highway and being stranded and not able to get home. So, I was a little apprehensive about this little trip, but agreed to go because Dad wanted to go. We got a taxi to the terminal and then hopped in the back of a pick-up truck taxi which had a tarp over it for shade and wooden benches on either side to sit on. The trip down was very pretty and took about 30 minutes. The truck stopped whenever someone in the back would either stomp their foot on floor or bang on the top of the cab. Everyone got off but us and when we got to the “end of the line” we found ourselves in this quaint little Mexican town on the banks of I guess an inlet from the ocean, with no crocs in sight yet. However, before getting to this little town there was indeed a sign warning of crocodiles on one of the small rivers we crossed over just before town. We took a little stroll over to the water, Dad cut a deal with one of the guys with a boat to take us down the bend of inlet to where we would be on the beach. I did ask the boat captain if there were crocs in the water just in case something happened to the boat and we had to swim back to shore!!! Yes, I am and will always be a scaredy cat. Got to the beach in about 7 or 8 minutes, somehow managed to get ourselves out of the boat at the dock and then walked a short distance to the ocean, and of course it was beautiful. Stinkin hot, but beautiful. White, beautiful beaches with zero trash, zero seaweed, and zero rocks. It was a Monday and there were only a few people around, so we had lunch on the beach under one of those palm frawn shades and enjoyed the view of the ocean and a cold drink. Our captain waited for us for about an hour and a half and then took us back to the little pueblo. We walked around town a bit, enjoyed a live band and people dancing for a while, and then waited for another one of those trucks to pick us up and take us back to Pinotepa. You just stand on a street corner and wave the guy down (I had my fingers crossed that a truck to take us home was really going to come).
What was kind of fun but strange is that this little pueblo is a cowboy town and they were celebrating El Dia de Muerto (the day of the dead…kind of like our Memorial Day), so there were cowboys everywhere dressed in their finest cowboy clothes and hats riding their horses to the outdoor restaurant/bar listening to the live music too. It was a fun day. It’s always an adventure when Dad is there. He was fascinated with the horses, some of which were really beautiful. Fun day. And just really different seeing all those cowboys.
I have mentioned that Presidente Avila’s son, Sammy was born with Down Syndrome and that he has decided that Dad is his really good buddy! He just loves Dad. Sammy is 28 years old and his language is barely coherent, speaking only one word sentences. Of course, his parents understand him, but even Dad can’t understand a thing he says in Spanish. Anyway, Sister Avila told us something about Sammy that we wanted to share. The three of us were talking about Sammy being a Celestial being and how blessed the Avila’s are to have him as their son. She told us that when he was about 12 years old she walked past his bedroom and heard a conversation taking place on the other side of the closed door. She stopped and listened through the door for a minute and then realized that Sammy was speaking in perfect Spanish to someone in the room (no one else was home at the time). But he was speaking perfectly fluent Spanish! She didn’t dare open the door or interrupt him because she had the distinct impression that he was communicating with a heavenly being! Sister Avila and Sammy and another sister were at our home a couple of weeks ago talking with our elders to get addresses of less active members whom they were going to visit. The elders told them to be careful and Sister Avila said, oh don’t worry about us; there’s two of us women and an angel! They just adore Samuel! He is a sweetheart. He likes to call Dad “mano” which is how he says hermano and his mom corrected him and told him he needs to call him “Elder.” Sammy responded with, “No, he’s my hermano.”
We learned a little something about Mexican law that explains perfectly the Mexican attitude that “what’s yours is mine if I can get it,” which you’ve all heard Dad talk about many, many times. The theft in Queen Creek was horrible! And the curious thing was as soon as all of the Mexican laborers started leaving the US when our economy went south, the thievery stopped also. Anyway, apparently there’s a “Squatters Rights” law here in Mexico, which enables anyone to take possession of any property that’s vacant, even if it’s only for one day. Unless the squatters are legally evicted, after five years they become the legal owners of the property. So the way they get around the five year clause, is they go to the neighbor and have them write an affidavit stating that so and so has been occupying this property for five years, and then the squatters pay the neighbor for the affidavit. And if you happen to be a foreigner who owns property, you have zero chance of winning in court. That is a national law. Foreigners who own vacation property here with a care taker, it is common for the care taker to take the property. There are people who do nothing but drive around looking for vacant property to move people into. This happened to our Presidente Rodriguez. He bought a house, went to the house and found that it was being occupied by somebody else who claimed that they had bought the house also. So he hired a security company to go to the house with armed guards and gave the squatters two weeks to vacate the property, which apparently they were scared enough to do.
The squatters here in Pinotepa have taken over a whole little section of town and now are demanding “their rights” to free utilities and are protesting. It’s become a dangerous part of town which we’ve been told to stay far from. So, as a result of having a liberal government for years and years there really is an attitude of putting your hand out and expecting the “government” to put something in it, and explains a lot about the Mexican mentality.
And just one last little cute thing: a little girl about 6 or 7 years old got up last testimony meeting and started her testimony by saying that she wanted to “compartir mi pequeno testimonio.” It was pretty sweet. And she indeed shared her little testimony quite well!
The work is going well. Our garden is growing and so are most of the other 12 or 13 which have been planted. Our second business class was a complete bomb…neither the man who was called to be the facilitator nor any of those who signed up for the class showed up last night for the second meeting! Unfortunately, this is pretty common for that particular branch…little commitment. We gave our second English class last night and had 3 investigators there also, a man and his two sons. Dad had ten hours of meetings today…and I’m not exaggerating. But with him in the District Presidency now he really has an opportunity to train and teach, and that he’s doing. I guess I’m his back-up support.
We’re happy and staying busy with planning and preparing for the things that we are doing. Lezlie offered to teach Family History while she’s here to anyone interested so today one of the branch presidents had a Ward Council meeting (which Dad was invited to) and the President told everyone that our daughter was coming to teach Family History/Search and what a wonderful opportunity the branch has to have someone from Utah teach them how to do Family History…like she’s an official mucky muck!!! Dad got a kick out of that. But they are so excited about it that they asked if she could teach two or three classes. They are thirsty for knowledge, but the frustrating part is there seems to be a lack of commitment. However, the more we learn about these people I’m not so sure it’s lack of commitment or financial issues that keep them from doing things. One of the brothers told us that he works 12 hours a day, six days a week for a bank but only gets paid for 8 hours a day, and that’s the way it’s done here. Most members don’t have vehicles to get to church or anywhere else for that matter. They mostly walk everywhere or take the collectivos. The average wage is $4 A DAY! That is not a typo…$4 a day. The state of Oaxaca (where Pinotepa is located) is the poorest area in the whole country. It’s an interesting town…there are lots of people here who drive very nice and newer cars and live in nice, big homes (surrounded by 15 feet walls), but most are very poor. We visited a lady last week who basically lives in a patio outside her parents’ home with her two children.
So that’s it from Pinotepa. We just keep putting one foot in front of the other and pray that the Lord will direct our path.
Please give the grandkids hugs for us…or at least tell them that we love them bunches and bunches. We love you all and thank you for your prayers and support.
Yesterday was P day and a holiday for the country so we had a few elders from other districts in Pinotepa who asked if they could wash their clothes at our house. So we ended up with an impromptu breakfast of egg and ham burritos. We cooked about three dozen eggs for these six elders and they ate every bit! When they all left, Dad and I felt like a bunch of grasshoppers had swept through the house and ate everything in sight! Including 2 gallons of his limonada! We sure do love these guys and love to be with them.
We are happy serving the Lord, and we hope that with your various challenges that you too can see the hand in your lives and be happy.
Love you all mucho. Have a wonderful Thanksgiving. We all have so much to be thankful for.
Mom and Dad
