lovaliss's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Hey don't deal drugs anymore, want to get baptized!? I've been transfered out of the trail center and into the field. I proselyte in the ghetto. It�s the same feeling I often got working at the soup kitchen. This uncomfortable awareness that I am too bright for them to understand. The brightness is in everything, in my eyes, in my clothes, in my speech, in my entire being. It�s contrast is stark against the exposure of poverty and hopelessness. We stand on the porch because it�s obvious they�re not going to let us in. I can see in their avoided glance that they want to say, �Get out of our ghetto. You don�t know what it�s like. And here you come with your white religion, preachin on families�that make no difference to us... I see this written particularly on one girl�s face as she holds her small child to her teenage body with her lips pursed to keep her distance. I can see her teeth are clenched underneath her purse. My companion keeps chatting not seeming to notice the discomfort we�re bringing to the entire house by being there. The boyfriend of the mom refuses to come out, we saw his form disappear from the screen door as we pulled up. In the moment I have never seen my companions floral print dress look so hideous. The pitch of her voice seems higher and more perky than it ever has in real life and I wonder incredulously, �Has she ALWAYS talked like this and I never noticed�� I see the mom glance up embarrassed at the neighbors gawking, before looking back to some focal point just to the side of Sister Limary�s head, and definitely never in her eyes. We have pried our way into a world that we clearly can�t come close to comprehending. I hate being a missionary in this moment. My companion pulls out a bag of sugar-free candy and presents it to the woman, �We got this for you because we know you can�t eat sugar�blah blah blah�I heard it�s the best kind�blah blah blah�so whose baby is this!!!?� She looks down at the hopeless girl who won�t look at us. �Well we�d love for you to come to church with us on Sunday!� Sister Limary chirps. �We go to a Baptist church.� End of conversation. Everything clicks for me in that moment. I have grown to know this look well. It�s a look of confusion, anger, mostly pity, almost a smirk, and always a hint of �we know whatch you Mormon�s be about.� (Incorporate black accent) This look infuriates me, probably because I�m not that Christ-like or that patient. It�s a look I want to reach up and pluck from their face and stomp like a glass jar spitting it�s shards all over the sidewalk. As I�m stomping my foot in a tantrum in my mind crying out, �Not fair! Not fair!� My companion keeps right on talking. �Well then you�ll love this video we have called Finding Faith in Christ, it�s about Jesus Christ and this disciple named Thomas, and his nickname was Doubting Thomas because he said, �I have to see it to believe it�� and and and and and and, Jesus Christ did these miracles and and and and�� she speaks to them like they�re children. The mother has this half-smile on her face that tells us we�re the fools and keeps saying in a soft voice, �I know the Bible�� In a tone that suggests she�s amused we�re pulling out are ol� Bible tactics, trying to tell people we believe in Jesus Christ when it�s the devil we worship! My approach is to show that we�re not these psychotic perpetually happy people, but that we really are normal, can function and get along with people like normal human beings. My two worst fears are: 1) Failure..at anything. I face both of these on a daily basis. Particularly the annoying one. I just want to talk to people about what they believe and why and share what I think and in the end of it all we'll all have a little more understanding of things and if they choose to be baptized, great, if they don't, okay! I'm really fine either way, I'm just offering people a choice that might not know much about the church or have never heard of it before. But man oh man we are obnoxious...I hate it! I cringe when I see gangsters coming down the street because I know that we're going to talk to them and pass out cards. Some of them are nicer than the other people...but it's probably because they think it would be amusing to have sex with a Mormon girl...not that they're all thinking that...but some probably are! It is interesting to be thrown into this world and culture I've never know much about, and will never know much about because we're not allowed to be there after dark. It is unique to face the challenge that when we're passing out Book of Momron's, it might be that some of them just can't read well enough to read it. And the majority of people we teach are on welfare. Sometimes this is so weird and wonder why I'm here. Then there are times when it is good. Like seeing my friend Tony get baptized on Sunday. I read the newspaper at the trail center because the older couples have it all the time. And I also watch the Style Network on tv over the shoulder of the woman we are talking to in the doorway. Call me the devil, tell me I'm going to hell...but hey, I'm just me! Since being on a mission I've really been into making fart noises with my mouth. I'm still puzzled by this action myself. I don't know where it came from but it could be here to stay. 11:35 a.m. - 2005-09-08 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||