And All As At First

Moments of symmetry do come now and again. Not only when the Britez family's dogs were curled up in this delightful symmetrical arrangement, but also in more assorted ways.

For example, when we came by David and Brian's to repair the binding on their scriptures. Trying to keep the tape arrangement symmetrical.

Hermana Beecher mending Brian's scriptures

We also sensed symmetry (or something like it) yesterday during the Córdoba temple dedication. We were in the stake center watching a live transmission of it as it happened right there in Córdoba. We sang the Spirit of God, which was sung during the Kirtland temple dedication. Perhaps we felt something mildly symmetrical in our relationship with that moment; the space between that first burst of modern temple work and us, now, in our moment. The missionaries, we all looked at each other with this beautiful ache in us. With no temple in the mission limits, we all sort of turn sappy when people bring up the temple in general. How then could we not be overjoyed yesterday, enclosed in the chapel as it was a temporary extension of the Córdoba temple?

A final moment of symmetry that I will share with you, dear humans, is last night sitting around for a moment in the pension. The Pirané sisters were with us again (we rightfully joke that our area has become half theirs, as, due to convenience for travel, they work with us so often that the people here miss them when they don't come by). And we were all sitting there, me in my little nook against the wall, Hermana Rodriguez sitting on the raised step part of the floor that separates the "study area" from the "kitchen", and Hermanas Alduenda and Beecher on the foldout chairs. Hermana Beecher and Rodriguez found a lemon tree while they were out, and brought back many lemon leaves to boil. And we were just sitting back, breathing, drinking piping hot lemon tea, disagreeing about the lyrics to Cielito Lindo. And you know....there is nothing particularly symmetrical about that moment except that it just feels good to call it symmetrical, in the vague, conceptual way that I've been using it so far, and it bears mentioning that very little perfect symmetry can be found in nature anyway, but you can find a lot of things that are roughly symmetrical, so it's better to avoid measuring the poetic symmetry of your life with lots of decimal points.

A few people that want to say hi to you all in this email since I was able to snap photos of them: Anto Cano says hi. Remember the story with the sandwiches? That's her.

Anto Cano

And Mabel says hi, and sends her warmest and most rambunctious greetings. She leaves tomorrow for the south....their oldest daughter lives there and is on the brink of having a child. A daughter, Hugo and Mabel's first grandchild. 

Mabel
(Note huge rain puddle in front of house)

Also Brian (crazy one in front with books) David (left), and their musical friend Leo all say hi. Brian's birthday is coming up this week. 

Brian, David & Leo

And so, dear citizens, before I leave you, I invite you to walk with me....in this beautiful photo I took walking behind Hermana Beecher Saturday night. 

Ignore the fact that it initially looks like a fluke that you delete off your camera before taking a better picture. And walk with me, and imagine you are the one that hastily pressed the shutter as you and Hermana Beecher briskly sped home in the rain. See her Mary Poppins-like coat and umbrella...see the movement of the lights as they burn and flicker and roast themselves. 

Until next time,
Hermana Tolman

P.S. Look, this is the asado. The circular stonehenge-style one, anyway. There are many ways to do it. Very big cultural thing here. Everyone loves doing their asado. Typical for birthdays and holidays. Generally a wide assortment of meats, but steak more than anything else.

Subway in Res

"¿Y para vos?"
I open my mouth, and out fall the words
pechuga
          de
            pollo.
"Bueno, y ¿qué vegetales vas a querer?"
I smile, open my mouth
to speak.
The beating half of my heart is X kilometers away in a 2-room cement house.
"Tomate. Pero aquellos que son bien rojos, ¿vio?"
I smile.
The menu's lit up and the tables are polished, so you can see every distinct neglected crumb.
-----------

I hope you enjoyed that poem about going to Subway. We were in Resistencia this week for Consejo--a monthly council where leaders go and talk about what's going on in their areas and zones. Presidente Franco likes to foster out-of-the-box thinking and I appreciated getting to know more about how he works with us. Problem solving. Good stuff.

This week we had a lesson with Mayra, and it was a highly anticipated event, so Yanina (recent RM who served in Mexico) wanted to come. We went by to pick her up so she could walk with us to Mayra's house. Yanina has a hyper-intelligent dog named Pirata. He opens the gate for us when we come over. I hadn't ever asked him about his religious convictions, but I think he's considering Mormonism, because he, too, accompanied us to the lesson. We had to push him away as we squeezed through Mayra's front door one by one. As we discussed the gospel, Pirata jumped into the house through an open window, which we promptly threw him back out of. We then shut all the windows, and he whimpered outside the door for the rest of the lesson.

I like his enthusiasm, and if that's a sign of how he's going to take his future ward responsibilities, I really think he's going to progress.

Another quick story: Yesterday Hermana Beecher and Hermana Alduenda knocked on a door. A man answered it, and they explained who they were and expressed that they would love to come in and talk to him and his family about the restored gospel. He hadn't said much up to this point, he had just nodded and kept a straight face. He had a toy phone in his hand. When they had finished talking and asked him what he thought, he looked down at the toy phone and said "No. I'm very busy. I need to take this call," gave his apologies and shut the door.

Well, I don't know what news to give you all other than HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY YESTERDAY to all you mothers. Happy Mother's Day especially to my own mother Carolyn Tolman, who is, was, and shall always be one of the most important people in my life. I sometimes feel like I'm slowly turning into my parents..Love you Mom and Dad!! Also Happy Mother's Day to my grandparents and aunts and lady cousins, especially those of you who I saw for 4.779 seconds yesterday on our Mother's Day Skype call! I saw you there, your luminous pixelated faces, and though I was too flustered and over-enthusiastic to say even 5 words to you, I love you all very much, and think of you often, all of you, and can't wait to catch up one day over some herbal tea and delicious homemade pie (that will probably be made by you, unless I've somehow learned how to make pie by then).

Yesterday as I talked to my immediate family over Skype, I found myself very happy, yet alarmingly out-of-control. I got very pretentious and didactic; I just opened my mouth and let all this ENTHUSIASM tumble freely into the microphone (siblings, on the next phone call I hope to treat you all more equally. I love being from a big family. But yikes there are 4 of you).
The reason I share this is because I shared one of my favorite scriptures with you, and I was trying to explain why. So I want to explain why.

Alma 22. In this chapter, Aaron is talking with Lamoni's father, a.k.a. the king. He tells the king about redemption through Christ and "the hopes of glory." The king is quite stricken; he begins to desire this: "What shall I do that I may be born of God, having this wicked spirit rooted out of my breast, and receive his spirit, that I may be filled with joy?" he asks. "I will give up all I possess, yea, I will forsake my kingdom, that I may receive this great joy."
Aaron explains that he does not have to give up his entire kingdom to come to know God. He says you've just got to "bow down before God, and call on his name...believing that ye shall receive, then shalt thou receive the hope which thou desirest."
And the king cries mightily.
He says "O God, if there is a God, and if thou art God, ...I will give away all my sins to know thee."
And God makes himself known to the king.

This is a scripture that I have read often since I discovered it, because I like it. And it taught me how to give my heart to God. I was out here in Formosa, emotionally suffering, the same way I would have suffered whether I was in school, working, trying to solve relationship problems, anything. I just felt generally dissatisfied. And I thought, man, I want to go home. But I knew I would be feeling this way no matter where I was. Even if I was at home I would just keep feeling this way at home.
Whatever we're in the middle of, ("too easy", "too hard", or anything in between) we seem to subject ourselves to a lot of internal suffering, as if the external suffering weren't enough. And then this scripture showed me how to stop it. So I prayed and told God I would give away all my other desires if he would grant me my desire to know him.
And I'm glad to say I've been getting to know him.
A couple months later, having turned back to that scripture often, you know what I've found? God wants me to have other desires. It's okay with him for me to have my personality and to stumble around all human-like. He just wants me to always hold those desires up against his desires, and make sure I'm not going to turn stumbling into internal suffering.
When my heart doesn't belong to him first, it gives other things great occasion to come in and confuse my heart.
When my heart is God's, I'm not immune from the daily chaos that happens (and do I really want to be immune from all that?). It is a good kind of immunity of the heart.
So, like Lamoni's father, I'm willing to forsake my kingdom (or all my material comfort and social relationships) and give up all my sins (or all the other things that compete for my heart, not just mistakes but also everything else I get attached to that take me away from God).
And I've found that once I do that, once I've made my will clear to him (that I want to know and do His will), he gives most of what I gave up back to me, because I'm here on earth to learn and grow and weather this chaos, and there are a lot of things he wants me to experience and enjoy. But within his bounds. Why within his bounds? Because he sees more than I do.

Loving my mission, loving Formosa,
Much love peace and general good vibes,
Hermana Tolman

This is "Cyber" where we do our emails every P-Day.

Arriving at Cyber

Walking to Cyber

Hermana Rodriguez

I love Hermana Rodriguez! We hope to be companions some day.

Tacos, Training Leaders and (not) Transfers

Hello everyone, good news, I did divisions last week in my area again. This time with Hermana Zaneli, the sweet Brazilian hair-mana who by now is probably eating good fruit salads with her family, as she finished her mission on Sunday. I had the honor of spending her last Thursday with her, and I made sure to present her with many of my mission-logic conundrums and paradoxical hypothetical situations. I really tested her, but she's going to law school, so she dished it back with style. She's one of the veteran missionaries that I can do this to, since most people don't actually know everything there is to know after 18-24 months of being a missionary (cut to Indiana Jones 4 scene of Cate Blanchet recieving all knowledge as her head blows up).

Well, transfers came and went, and Hermana Beecher and I are not going anywhere. We are staying right here in our little universe of Italia Centro. This means many things, one of which is that we now have a great responsibility. We already know the terrain, we know the ward, we know who is sweet and who is sarcastic, we know who we can ask about where to buy our birthday cake ingredients, so we now have zero excuse to not work very, very hard every day. 

I say birthday cake ingredients because my birthday will be this transfer, which means I'm going to spend it with THESE PEOPLE! Furthermore it is on a p-day. 

Sunday is Fun Day!

I say zero excuse not to work because we have never been as ready as we are now. That's the stupidly magical thing about the mission (and life in general)--you are always the most experienced you have ever been. 

Feeling down? Feeling like you just got sent back to square one? Well, don't worry about it; you are perfectly wrong. You are actually the most ready you have ever been. 

This week on Wednesday Hna Beecher and I went to Pirané, a 2-hour bus ride away, to go do divisions with Hnas Rodriguez and Barker. 

Hna Rod and I in one of our many long,
yet enjoyable waits at the terminal

It was a very good thing for us to do, as the people in Pirané seem to be by nature even nicer than the people in the Capital, and while the mosquitoes do indeed bite, the warm feeling in your heart is enough to make it worth your time. 

Hermana Rodriguez in Pirane, in their pension

Hermana Rodriguez taught us to make tortillas from scratch, which we very much enjoyed that day, and on Saturday when we made tacos in our pension. Due to limited resources they are only a ghost of what a taco can truly be, yet we enjoy them and will be making them more often. 

"Farewell" Tacos

We made tacos just in case one of us got the boot, but contrary to many predictions, that did not happen; I have also been promoted to Hermana Training leader 2 (Hna Beecher is still the other one), which has been changing my life. Why has it been changing my life? Because I never ever in my life thought I could learn to be a patient, laid-back, selfless person. I actually thought it was impossible. And I decided I wanted to see if it was possible to head in that direction. So I started trying to help out instead of getting frustrated and getting all quiet and creepy and excuse-producing (you all know how I get that way). And so far it's working!

As hermana leaders we are serving companionships in Circunvalación (a nearby chapel), Puerto (the stake center), and Pirané. Hermana Rodriguez got a new companion who is also from Mexico, and it is confirmed....there are now 3 Mexicans in Pirané. 3 out of the 4-or-so Mexicans in this mission. Needless to say, this transfer Hermana Beecher and I will be going to Pirané.

A thought about the weather---I used to very much make fun of people in subtropical/tropical places for saying "It's cold" whenever it's not 10000000 degrees out. I have finally learned what they mean. When your body is used to heat and all of the sudden the temperature drops, it is actually pretty cold. And it is not the nice desert cold I know and love...it is a humid, slimy, intruding cold.
So yes, we are all here sometimes wrapped up in multiple sweaters when it's probably in reality still balmy out. I really love irony; it's the same kind of irony that makes me love it when people ride around on motos and bikes when they're dressed elegantly. 

Well, my first 12 weeks here have gone by much faster than my 12 days in the MTC. By that pattern, the rest of my mission will now go by even faster than my training. ("Training" refers to your first 2 transfers, a.k.a. being dropped into the life of a poor missionary who has to withstand all your confusion and complaints and help you cope with your adjustment.) I'm done being trained wahooooooo!!!

Love and joy, 

Happy May everybody!
Hermana Tolman

Me with FRANCI, a wonderful half-Chilean very lovable gal.
A while back she served a mission in the southernmost part of Argentina.

I am SO HAPPY, mom.
I thought I would never in my life learn to be a patient and loving person while still maintaining my identity,
but it's HAPPENING.
I'm so so so happy mom, I cannot believe how much and how fast I'm changing. How fast I'm shedding all my coldness and all my bitterness. All my frustration. I am learning just exactly how to be completely happy. Independent of circumstances. Righteous desires / willingness to learn with an open mind combined with the mission environment, the gospel and the Holy Ghost = lots of progress, Super fast.
I dont know how to articulate this sort of thing, but I think you get it.
SO HAPPY, mom. So happy.
And I get to stay with my trainer, and I have come to love and trust her so much.

Elder Oaks' Apostolic Visit

We did divisions this week with Hermanas Duncan and Safsten, except this time I stayed in our area. This was the first time I had ever worked in my area without Hermana Beecher. I was in charge. Hermana Safsten has been out here for 5 weeks. Imagine being newer than me and being put under my responsibility and care. And laugh and laugh and laugh like I did. Navigating between 15 sprawling barrios and making sure the pension didn't set on fire while we were gone was quite the task, even though I see Hermana Beecher do it every day. Watching it is one thing, doing it is quite another. The stress made me giddy. I was very excited to see Hermana Safsten and show her all I know. Hermana Safsten and I are good friends after this fun experience. I cooked her good food and told her to pretend like it was Chinese food and then it would taste okay in her mind. Hermana Safsten and I love each other after this experience. We found a lot of cool people during these divisions. I introduced her to Hugo and Mabel as well. 

So I've been thinking a lot about what Basilio said to me right after his baptism. He said "Ya soy un hijo de Dios---Now I'm a child of God". I knew so well what he meant when he said it in that moment, but later I thought "What DOES that actually mean, anyway?"
We go around all day everyday telling everyone they're sons and daughters of God. Why should that be any different for a baptized vs. unbaptized person? It's not different. We're all children of God. Basilio was already a son of God well before last Saturday. Yet I knew that what he said to me as he shook my hand was true. A few days ago I found the answer to this conundrum. Mosiah 5:7 says 

And now, because of the covenant which ye have made ye shall be called the children of Christ, his sons, and his daughters; for behold, this day he hath spiritually begotten you; for ye say that your hearts are changed through faith on his name; therefore, ye are born of him and have become his sons and his daughters. I was led to think about what Elder Christofferson said this conference about how we need to be physically born but then spiritually reborn. 

Speaking of apostles, Elder Oaks. Elder Oaks and his wife and various other important people visited us twice. Twice. I walked out of the first one feeling so content, so inspired that I could have strolled into the valley of the shadow of death and been okay about it. And then I realized I would see him AGAIN. You could say that we were double-blessed this weekend.

On Friday he came to Resistencia, where the entire mission came together to listen to him. This was the first and proably the last time I will ever see the entire Resistencia mission at the same time. I still get very excited about Resistencia, because it is the city of my dreams. When our bus got into the city and the chapel emerged out of the trees with its formal, flat facade and round-topped windows, I almost fainted. I needed to sit down. Then I realized I was already sitting down because I was in a bus. My newness made our arrival overwhelming. Getting down off a double decker bus and entering into a sea of faces and greetings and reunions between long-lost companions. Everyone was so clean and well-dressed and pulled together for the big day. It was overwhelming, like the first day of 6th grade, or a big movie premiere. I had to stop analyzing it and let the current take me. 

The conference went beautifully. Elder Oaks and Sister Oaks are beautiful. I didn't know what I expected from them. I didn't know what I expected to hear or feel. I just went into it and was pleasantly shocked by how real Elder and Sister Oaks are. They were only married 15 years ago, as he was previously married and his wife passed away. Kristen Oaks was single before this; she was not married until she was 55. She is a convert to the church, she served a mission in Japan, and has a doctorate in education. The playful banter between these two was positively wonderful. She would run up to the microphone to add her thoughts when Elder Oaks was talking.

The other relationship we got to witness was that between Elder Oaks and the interpreter. And just watching a consecutive interpretation situation go so well. I never thought it could go so well. Now that I know it can go so well, I know that I can be an interpreter. His name is Carlos Aguero I believe. He has interpreted for Elder Oaks before. He was so cool and collected and interpreted with such precision..... But the best part was how Elder Oaks and Bro Aguero worked as a team. After a while you just started accepting them as a single two-headed animal. Elder Oaks: "I can speak a little bit of Spanish, but I can give a better talk in English." (pause for interpretation. Then, after introducing Bro Aguero...) "I trust him." (Then he turns to him.) "If I don't give a good enough talk in English, you must make it better in Spanish!"

Sister Oaks was equally amazing. She had an Elder come up to do a mock baptismal interview with her in Spanish, and she answered all the questions in full sentences in Spanish. It was mostly funny and cute, because she was reading it off a paper with much enthusiasm. But overall it was the gesture that we were left with. That she and Elder Oaks cared about us, and the culture and language here. We didn't feel separated from them or below them. The missionaries of the Posadas mission were all gathered together too, and they were watching the meeting via satellite transmission. And the Oaks' went out of their way to make them feel like they were there with them too. We could see them on a screen, all seated on benches in a chapel in Posadas, and Elder Oaks would turn and talk to the screen and ask them to participate in what we were doing.

Friday in Resistencia was very, very wonderful. We were also glad to see President and Hermana Franco, who were quite flustered and honored to have an apostle visiting their missionaries. They shared great messages with us as well, and continue being humble, loving caretakers of this mission. Hermana Beecher and I had the privilege of singing in a choir in both of the meetings! For this one in Resistencia, it was a small choir of 11 sisters and 11 elders, and an Elder with a violin. We sang "Con valor marchemos" [Onward Christian Soldiers]. A Polynesian Elder, Elder Takapu, did a solo in the first verse, and his voice was positively angelic. Hna. Beecher and I were honored to have been asked to be a part of this little choir. What were the odds?

The conference in Formosa the following Sunday was just as brilliant, and this time we got to share in the excitement of the members and all the people who have been preparing for this. A companionship from Pirané (remote part of Formosa province) came to stay with us the night before, Sisters Rodriguez and Barker. The rest of the missionaries in Pirané are Elders. These women are rough & tough pioneers. I love these 2 sisters. Coming out late at night to open the gate for them and take them in as weary travelers, we received them and all slept for a few hours until we got up at 5:30 to get to the conference on time. 

Hna. Beecher early Sunday morning waiting for bus to stake conference.

The stake choir did a splendid job. We all looked like the real deal with our little red cravat/ascot/kerchief thing going on. 

Stake Choir (Hna. Tolman not shown, Hna. Beecher 2nd in.)

Elder Oaks once again spoke to us. This time more to the Formoseñans than to us missionaries.
The fact is, dear readers, I'm out of words to describe this event. The brilliant reality of the situation was and is this: Elder Oaks was called of God. His words didn't sink into our hearts because of his wit, his humor, or his background in law. While he has all of those things, he spoke to us as an apostle.

If you find you have concerns about the organization of the LDS church, but you still find you want to be a part of it, maybe start by asking yourself a very basic question.
Do you believe you're an eternal being?
Do you believe in God?
Do you believe he's aware of you?
If you do believe he's there, and if you love him and want to know him, then ask yourself who Jesus Christ is.
And what does it mean to you that without Jesus Christ, you couldn't come to know God?
Then, and only then, start thinking about the leadership of this church. And THEN, listen to what they say.

To finish up, I will tell you some of the things Elder Oaks, one of Jesus Christ's 12 living apostles said to our stake. He said "Formosa is just as close to heaven as Salt Lake City." He went on to say that we're all God's children, so we all have a different passport, but God eventually wants the same for each one of us. He also said "God doesn't love His sons more than He loves His daughters." He said that the Lord doesn't necessarily call the best and most worthy to be leaders. He talked about asking "Why me?" when he was called, and his own family asking "Why him?". And then he said once you've been called it's your responsibility to grow into the position. He said that church membership is not an event; it is a process. It is a place where if we come with willing hearts, we will be made complete where we are incomplete.

I know that God works through us according to his wisdom, not according to our own inherently limited knowledge and perspective. When I realized and knew what this church was and is, it took my breath away. This church is not a social organization. This church is an eternal organization, and concerns itself with eternal matters. Temporal welfare matters come second to that, and are also a great part of the church. But this church exists first and foremost to help us come to know Jesus Christ, the reality of who he is and was, and ultimately to help us to know God and make peace with him and with ourselves, now and in the future.
I know these things to be true. 

Much love, Hermana Tolman

The Dynamic Duo

Hugo was a greeter at stake conference. He got up around 4 a.m. to be there on time.

Basilio-Sanabria-turned-family-man

The week has been normal, or in other words, quite gratifying in a lurchy, up-and-down sort of way. I do enjoy the weekly things about every week, such as the English class we teach on Fridays (when I realize with horror that conjugating verbs in my own language is about as predictable as Formosa weather in the fall), stake choir practice on Sunday nights (which will now end, as Elder Oaks comes this very weekend), and having life-realizations every 20 minutes or so. 

One thing we've been doing the past few weeks is packing the creaky little portable DVD player in our bag when we head out for the day. The mission gave us a DVD with "Gracias a que Ël Vive" on it, the new little 2-3 minute movie that came out just before Easter ("Because He Lives" in English). We've had some good times with this movie, whether seeing how it quiets a room full of noisy kids, seeing how it makes people we just met realize Mormons ARE in fact Christians, or showing it to a woman named Julia who opened her door to us late one night and the three of us ended up dumbstruck, holding hands looking at each other after the movie ended, and she just smiled and said "I would pray for you, but I can already see that God protects you, so I'll pray for the people you visit instead." One rainy morning we brought the video to Raimunda, a very old member-lady who has the Elders bring her sacrament to her house. She couldn't read the captions very well, so I sat next to her and read them out loud, and oh Mom, my eyes were as weepy as the skies.

So Basilio's baptism was a sublime experience for all involved. Everything leading up to it for the last couple of weeks was equally as amazing; by the time we sat down for the actual service we just took a deep breath and shook hands. There were a lot of handshakes this week, as always, but I will tell you about one in particular.

 

Elder Johnson and Basilio

After his actual baptism performed by Elder Johnson (cut back to the first Sunday after Elder Johnson got here. Basilio looked over at us, pointed at him and said "I want the tall one to baptize me."), we were singing hymns in the chapel, waiting for him to dry off and change his clothes. It was an incredible turnout--since he's been to church almost every week for the last 9 or 10 weeks, many members had already considered him a part of the ward. 

Top row L to R : Elder Johnson, us, Val, Dora, Basilio, Ward mission leader Hno Romero.
Bottom row L to R: Elder Ayala, Hno Barboza (EQ president, he presided at baptism since bishop was in Asunción at his brother's temple wedding!) Hugo, Hno Armoa

They came that night smiling and radiant, chatting with him before the baptism started, telling him their stories, since virtually everyone in the group had been baptized in the last 4 years. He took a lot of heart from hearing what they've overcome. So we were in the chapel singing, and I was sitting in the very back with Valentina and Dora (Valentina had walked a lot that day so we were trying to find ways to keep the walking to a minimum). He walked in and handed his towel to Dora, and then came up to me to give me a bag with the wet baptismal clothes we'd loaned him. I took the bag, but then he stretched out his hand. Confused, I took it, and looked up at him to see tears in his eyes. "Ya soy un hijo de Dios" he whispered, and shook my hand with such emotion, all I could do was nod at him, not able to find words to respond. I was so proud of him, but I was feeling more than just my pride. It was borrowed pride that God felt, so much of it I thought I would burst. (See Alma 26).

Later in the service, Elder Barboza looked down at Basilio from the stand and saw how stricken he looked, and just asked him to stand up and share what he was feeling. This was atypical, and even more so because Basilio used to be almost too shy to pray out loud even when he was alone. But Basilio stood up without hesitation, turned to us and said he hardly knew where to begin...Feeling like he truly had a place here and had been accepted by these people was more than he could have ever asked for.

The next day all those people and more came to his confirmation to raise their hands in the vote-of-brotherhood gesture, and my did they come. Standing outside the church in the muted morning lights seeing them pull up on motos in their 90s clothes, moms pulling up to the curb so their kids could get off, guys in jeans and ties and little girls in dresses beaming at us through their helmets. 

The Sanabria family came looking healthier and more energized than ever. We had a lovely time in the chapel, and later that afternoon when Hna Beecher and I went by, Basilio turned on this song by a Brazilian guy in the 70s and sang along to the lyrics about how the darkness has turned into light. I said Basilio's gone family-man because he has. He was the one in his family who was closed, slow to trust, and dragging his feet. Now he is quite simply a new man.

He has become a strength to Valentina and Dora, and I know how much care he is going to put into understanding the priesthood and using it to bless and serve them. All you have to do to see the change in this family is listen to how the before-lesson banter has evolved. It used to be arguing over what Basilio could have done better to help Valentina after she broke her hip, and accusing each other of being the selfish one, and letting wounds that were decades-old ache on. Now the banter is more like this: "Basilio helped me walk all morning! I'm getting better!" "Dora and I made pasafrola, want some???"

So, all is well with those three for now. In other news, after 4 days with no confirmed sightings, the sun came out on Thursday just long enough to dry our wet hanging laundry, and then went away again. The rain has continued to wash the streets. I wonder when it will realize that they are dirt roads and can't be washed.

Finally, my "list of things I learned" last week was incomplete. What a hiccup. I have talked more than once about how important it's been to take care of myself to make sure I will function. And that is true, but it's a distorted picture of what life is like for us here. There are two really important things to mission life. One is not without the other. Before we head out the door we search and learn and study. But after we head out the door, while we tend to follow our plans, we ultimately have to let all of our expectations go and simply listen and feel.

What an immense relief it was when I realized that I could teach a lesson and be charming and funny and brilliant, and even then, something that was just from me would simply dissolve, vanish, turn to dust. D&C 42:14 "And if ye receive not the spirit, ye shall not teach". There is a reason God trusts a bunch of bumbling 18 to 21 year olds to do this. It's because in their weakness they turn to Him, and that is when miracles start to happen. That is when they are healed and can invite others to start their own spiritual healing. What more can I say? Very little, as I have 5 minutes to write. I have found the source of my spiritual healing, and it is real, and I am here in the hopes that the people I meet can find their own.

I love being out here. I love you, family. I love being the American sister that can eat the most banana pancakes out of all the American sisters Hna Cruz has met on her mission.

With joy,
Hermana Allison Tolman

Happy 136th, Formosa!

It is true; on the 8th of April, Formosa celebrated that many years of being a bonafide province! Another day off school for the kids!
This week had many irregularities, for which I was grateful, as it was an exercise in flexibility.

Hermana Zaneli

Hna Beecher went to consejo [leadership council] in Resistencia to fulfill her leaderly duties, so I trio-ed up with Hermanas Cruz and Zaneli. I mentioned Hna Cruz last week, so you already know she's great stuff. Hna Zaneli is from Sao Paolo, Brazil, and she is a trilingual walking dictionary-thesaurus. Her vocabularies in Spanish and English are quite extensive, and I don't even know what she sounds like in her first language, Portuguese. We worked hard in their area and I loved doing 3 hours of studies with them, having these two brilliant resources at my disposal to answer my questions. Both of these sisters are in their last transfer and have an 18-month abundance of tricks and charla [discussion] skills that I was able to learn from.

Formosa Zone

Shortly after that we had a zone meeting after which I directly left for divisions with Hermana Duncan (she is the only brown haired american in zone photo who isn't Hna Beecher or me). I really like Hermana Duncan because she is so unassuming and humble.

Hna Duncan at the Bus Stop

She just smiles, walks out the door, and starts finding the exact people who were waiting for us that day. We went via bus to a part of their area that was too far away to get to on foot. It is a magical place called San Isidro. It feels like an hacienda mixed with a Tim Burton movie. The sky was silver and cloudy. We worked all morning there. Had lots of those surreal lessons with people we'd just met. People who had just gotten up for the day, but were not offended by being called upon. They simply asked us to come sit with them on the porch steps and tell them why we were there. 

After divisions, the week normalized in time for it to end. On Saturday we were with Guillermo and his family (remember the man I mentioned in another email who ran out from his house and asked us to come every week and teach his family?). Right as we were about to get up and leave from another great discussion with him and his kids, he asked if we know a certain Hugo Rivarola. We scoffed. We laughed. We chortled. 

"Of COURSE we know Hugo Rivarola!" 

"Well," Guillermo continued, raising an eyebrow, "Hugo Rivarola is my brother-in-law." 

Hermana Beecher almost lost it. Her crazy over-energetic side came out, the one that is usually reserved only for water polo and defending me from aggressive dogs. She jumped up, sat down, put her head in her hands, sat up again, leaned her head back, and said to the ceiling, "¡No me diga! ¡AMAMOS a la familia Rivarola! [You're kidding! We LOVE the Rivarola family!]
Guillermo sat back and smiled, seeming quite pleased with himself for having kept this from us for the whole lesson.
Turns out he was at an asado at Hugo and Mabel's house on Thursday night (he probably got there minutes after we'd left), and they somehow got talking about religion, and he talked about 2 missionary girls, and Hugo and Mabel talked about 2 missionary girls, and then Hugo brought out a photo of him at his baptism that has Hna Beecher in it, and they realized they were talking about the SAME missionary girls.
Guillermo is indeed Mabel's brother.

In other news, we finally took a photo with Mayra.

Mayra and Camila

Camilla is a year and a half old. She is one sister-mission old. Do not let her surly facial expression in this picture fool you; in real life she is the smiley-est creature I have ever met.
So, maybe I'm not seasoned enough to give mission advice the way Hna Cruz and Zaneli do. But I can share what I have found so far to be useful, and it's very general and can be related to a lot of things other than mission-ing. The fact is, mission-ing is not easy. It is hard. We do not do it because it is easy. We do it because it is hard. I'm starting to sound like JFK..."We choose to go to the moon!!"
However, despite culture clashes, miscommunication and misconceptions, somehow missionaries get up every day ready for more. How is this possible? I often wondered during my first weeks here. Well, first off, you must inevitably realize that we do it for conviction. This Gospel is too strange-sounding and inconvenient for our belief in it to depend on worldly proof. We believe in it because we recognize it. But secondly, I have learned these things:
1. Meet people at their level. You're on their turf.
2. Stay centered. a.k.a. take care of yourself so that you'll be able to depend on yourself as a missionary. Live and treasure what you teach.
3. Embrace the suck. My dad always says that. If you embrace the fact that it sucks to get up early, work, follow a schedule, keep on going through days of walking and dust and fatigue....Then you learn to love life. Yesterday after a full, tiring week of travel and work and miles of walking, Hermana Beecher and I came home from church and made beef empanadas.

Hna Beecher & beef empanadas

Hungry is the best seasoning. I do not know if those empanadas were the blandest empanadas ever made by 2 american girls in their pension, because I'm still internally freaking out about how much I enjoyed them! There were no leftovers.
4. Remain calm. On a mission your work consists of people, and you see people in all conditions and in all phases of life, and you come upon them in all convenient and inconvenient moments. You can either feel threatened by people and let them feel threatened by you, or you can breathe and decide you're glad to see them. Just because they exist. You can not live through Wednesday just to make it to Thursday. You have to mellow out and accept what's happening where you are right now.

Well, there are my over-generalized and hastily listed things I've learned...I shall continue now on my quest for finding out why missionaries get up every morning, and you, dear family and readers, shall continue on yours. Until next week, enjoy these photos I took today in Centro, including street art and a dinosaur slide.
P.S.: If you are wondering whether I wear the same skirt every day....I don't. I do not know why all photos are always taken on days I wear this skirt. Excuse me.

Hear the Music

Yanina and I on Conference Sunday! (She is the RM who just got back from Querétaro, Mexico) Love her so dearly, we have become very good friends, she is an amazing spiritual woman.

Hello all, 

Whether or not you tuned in to this 185th annual Spiritual Tidal Wave, I want to mention two of the talks that were given. They are not the addresses of the estimable Elders Holland, Uchtdorf, or Eyring, though of course they were iron-strong, essential talks, and linguistic ambrosia on top of that.
No, I speak of two lesser-known Seventies who gave their addresses back-to-back on Saturday afternoon. They hit the nail precisely on the head when discussing the 2015 LDS experience. Life as a Mormon. Life today. Elders Wilford W. Anderson and Dale G. Renlund. Scrutinize those talks if you for any reason want to know something about life as a Latter-day Saint in 2015. Lds.org (texts will be posted within the week).

I especially appreciated Elder Anderson's remarks because he put into words some of the experiences I've had in recent years. I give you my full disclosure: it wasn't long ago that I had long grown tired of this church. I had no patience for its human flaws. I had grown more critical than hopeful, more irritable than teachable. Those who speak over the pulpit in General Conference speak with simplicity. So if you're too high-strung when you listen, you think you know what you're hearing, but you might be missing it. For a long time I wasn't tuned into the right frequency. I couldn't receive what they were transmitting. "Era dura" [I was a hard head]; my heart was kept in a thick protective casing. If feeling the spirit is like hearing music, and living by it is like dancing to the music, I have spent a lot of my life dancing to no music. I appreciated Elder Anderson's sympathy for that predicament when he said that "dancing without music is awkward and unfulfilling." So it is.
So, hey, tune in to the right frequency! Hear the music.

On Sunday afternoon, Hair-mana Beecher and I emerged from the gringo room to spend the last session in the chapel. And my, were we glad we did! As if it wasn't enough to be with our Latino bretheren and sisters again, Sunday afternoon was when Elders Pino and Zeballos gave their addresses in Spanish. You could feel the electricity in the room when these speeches were announced. We all got goosebumps. It was a glorious, inexpressibly unmistakably happy time. I will skip the rant about the translation student on-hold in me getting to experience translated church materials on the receiving end and thinking about what is lost and gained in a translation and how cool it was to have the option of jumping around between the gringo room and the chapel. Suffice it to say, I hope one day I'll be involved in the translation or voice-over process for conferences in the future.... (p.s. If any of you speak English, listen to Elders Uchtdorf and Holland's talks in the language they were given. That kind of splendor is not to be translated.) The announcement that there will be a temple in Port-au-Prince sent a lightning bolt right through my heart. I gasped out loud in my seat. What joy, O World!! That with the other two temple announcements were received with hoots and cheers of excitement.

Well, this week has been as decently paced as ever. We did exchanges, so I worked for 24 hours with Hermana Cruz in her area on Tuesday-Wednesday. I learned a lot about her teaching and contacting methods (This is her last transfer, so I appreciated her wisdom on a number of matters), and also learned a great deal about her native Nicaragua. (Did you know they speak in Vos there?? They are a small isolated sector of Vos in an otherwise tú-using Central America. But they don't call the language Castellano, they call it Español. Everything I previously learned about Latin America is slowly expiring in the face of reality.)

This week was also Semana Santa [Holy Week leading up to Easter] (I hope you all had a very happy Easter, by the way). We came to know many many Argentine/Paraguayan traditions, most of them having to do with food (la chipa, la pasafrola, la sopa paraguaya---sí o sí), and had a grand time casually interviewing people about their explanations for these traditions. Everyone has their professed reason, ranging from deeply religious to culturally acquiescent. One thing was for sure: Thursday the whole world smelled like smoke and barbequeing meat, because everyone does an asado. Friday, or Viernes Santo, the whole world was still, because everyone was fasting and praying, or at the very least everyone had the courtesy to stay inside and not play loud music so that the religious folks could fast and pray. Saturday everyone had family over for more festejar-ing. We made a lot of cool contacts on Friday because of its quiet, reverent environment. With all of the white noise turned down (literally and metaphorically), many saw it as a less-then-coincidental sign that missionaries would clap at their gate with a message about Christ, and they let us in. 

So yes indeed, the weather has been sweetly transitioning to fall, Mayra and her father José are progressing well on their personal journeys, Valentina and Basilio are feeling quite well, thanks for asking, and the gospel is still true.

Until next week,
Love love love Hermana Tolman

A rainy Conference Saturday! In Centro nearby the stake center.

Hermanas Armoa and Rodriguez---the dream squad!

When we got back Saturday night--this is the view looking out our pension door. It was an enchanted night to glory in God's celestial creations...with the background noise of crickets and bugs and wind, and the heat and humidity of the night.

Me and Leti (the bishop's wife). She is 21. The bishop is 25. These people are YOUNG!
It's amazing how inspired they are. True humble amazing people.