What?

Its been nine weeks now that I've been deployed in the field... Even back in bootcamp I knew that I wasn't getting a true feel for what was in store for me... The rain never ceases-sometimes big, wet drops, sometimes a steady mist, but always present, keeping us soaked down to the bone... The noise is constant, always a hellish symphony of gunfire and screams... We must press forward, or risk being flushed out of our hole... Many of the others mock me for relying on God... They don't realize he's the only reason we're all not already soot-stained skeletons lying on the trench floor, the memories of what we once were slowly being washed away by the rain.

-Excerpt from a recovered WWI infantryman's journal. Written around 1916, recovered in 2007. Courtesy of the Smithsonian Institution, Washington D.C.

Wow. What a gripping story that man had to tell. I assure you, that is a real journal entry by a real person. Completely authentic.

Now onto business.

We had zone conference this Wednesday. It was pretty good. I'll always find it rather tedious to sit in a meeting for three hours, have a short break, and then sit in a meeting for another two hours, but it was still good. Luckily, this time it was a "Zone Conference, 'Short.'" If it was a normal length one, the meetings would have continued well into the evening, instead of wrapping up around 1:00. And it's always good to see missionaries from other zones that you never see otherwise. Of, course, at my tender young age, I really don't know too many people outside my zone, but it's still fun.

I had a good time in English class on Saturday. As usual, I was on one side of the room teaching English, and my companion was on the other side teaching Citizenship Class. At one point in the class, we were learning the word "America." Everything was getting along well, until I had the brilliant idea to tell them that the word "America" can refer to the United States as well as the American continent. I knew I may have made a mistake, though, when all of their faces went completely blank. Even my favorite student, who always understands everything you teach, no matter how confusing it is to the other students, was befuddled by this comment. So, for the next, oh... Maybe about half-hour, I too, in a way, am teaching citizenship class, teaching them about the ways to refer to this country (America, United States of America, US, USA, etc.) and how they can be used basically interchangeably. 

It didn't help that one of our students (I have no idea why he comes to English class, because he has nearly flawless English) every two seconds kept saying "I know, I know!" trying to get us to move on, but then one of the other students would exclaim that they were still completely confused... Well, as I said, it was a good time.

It was kind of a sad week for missionary work, other than that. One of the people we're teaching, Ken, didn't come to church yesterday, after faithfully coming every week for the last month. We texted him and said that we missed him at church, but no response. We'll see what happens with him. The other person we're teaching, May, did come to church, but she left before sacrament meeting started. When we were teaching her this week, she was just kind of staring into the distance, apparently uninterested. I hope that we don't lose these good people. We'll try to get in contact with them this week, to see if they want to meet with us. We'll see what happens then.

I also have a confession to make. I am bringing this up out of the very depth of my soul. I am a sinner. Allow me to explain. We had had a tough day on Wednesday, with everything that happened this week, so, in the evening we decided to stop and get some drinks. We went to this drink shop to get some smoothies, and we could not have walked in at a worse time. Literally, the moment I step through the door, I happen to look at the TV, and what do I see... Jazz versus Lakers, about ten seconds to tip. I tried. We ordered our beverages, and sat down to wait, and I tried not to watch. But, temptation got the better of me. I saw Ingles drain a three, Mitchell drain a three, a vicious slam by Derrick Favors... And, although I tried to fight it, I found myself feeling emotional attachment to the game. I think that the people purposely took an extra long time to make our drinks, because we were in there for like ten minutes. *Sigh* It was a conundrum. I swiftly had to repent. (On a happier note, I later received word from my father that the Jazz did, indeed, win that game, so that's good, at least).

Well, I really don't have much else to say, other than that me and my companion spent like an hour on Saturday trying to make some Chinese invitations to the temple open house, only to find out that we're actually getting some this week.

Well, bye bye!

-Ben "Pork Chicharrones" Rivera

P.S. "Hello young people!"

P.P.S. "So you like kickin' butts, do you old man?"

P.P.P.S. Oh yeah, I committed another despicable act this week. We had a zone meeting, and we had a "get to know you" activity (I have no idea why, because everyone in the zone already knows each other). This activity was pretty dang random- it was simply telling an experience that you've had with fire in your life. When my turn came, I hadn't really thought of anything amusing and was just going to talk about tin-foil dinners or something like that, but then, I thought: "That's boring. I'm gonna spice it up a little." So, literally as I was about to say the word "tin-foil", I say the first word that pops into my mind. "Boat." So, I tell a story about why fire and boats don't mix, giving a fictitious experience about me and a few other juveniles bringing flames down the river with us. Well, I must have done a good job, because everyone bought it, and it is now a favorite tale among my zone.

P.P.P.P.S. 

Do not go gentle into that goodnight.

Old age should burn and rave at close of day.

Rage, rage, into the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,

Because their words have forked no lightning

They do not go gentle into that goodnight.

Rage, rage, into the dying of the light.