Of short transfers, and other frustrations

This post is about my mission. To see previous posts, click on the mission tab under "labels."

As is any long-term and worth-while endeavor, my mission was full of frustrations and hardships, and even peppered with some regrets. Two of the hardest times in my mission were my two single transfers in one area (Biguacu, and Lisboa [Sao Jose]), when I was only there for 6 weeks, each time, and didn't have much measureable success. I have written only briefly about my time in Biguacu, but those short 6 weeks there with Elder Anderson had a great impact on me, and I still think about the people I knew there, and wonder how they are doing.

Another hard time in my mission were the 6 weeks right after I was transferred from Lisboa, so I was having it pretty rough for about 3 months there. My companion in Lisboa, Elder Zach Seeley from Utah, decided along with the mission president, to return home early, for health reasons, and President was sending me to Tubarao to be a zone leader along with Elder Michael Martinez from Texas (who came from a Mexican-American family). So, Lisboa would be "white-washed" (a term used in mission lingo to mean a complete change of missionaries).

President decided to put a companionship of sister missionaries there in our place, which was great news for the branch, but terrible news for the previous occupants of the apartment. Since I was the only one healthy enough to do the manual labor necessary to clean our pig stye, I worked while my companion packed his things and rested. Sister Leticia Rechi took our place, and during her first transfer there, I think she trained a new sister (a verdinha) as well.

(Sister Rechi, if you're reading this, I apolagize for leaving nothing to eat in the apartment. I thought a half a loaf of bread, some margarine, a little milk, and some flour and sugar would be enough to last you until you could go shopping, but Sister Dansie didn't think so, and I caught a whipping for it ![apanhei muito por isso] If it's any consolation, I really admire you for surviving that first transfer in Lisboa, you're a superwoman. )

Because my companion was sick, we really didn't do much that whole transfer. There was one week, when we only taught about 2 or 3 lessons. It was miserable, for both of us. I was reading several books before I went to Lisboa, but while holed-up there, I managed to finish 4 or 5 of them (including Jesus the Christ, A Marvelous Work and a Wonder, The Articles of Faith, and others), and I was able to listen to dozens of famous conference talks and BYU devotionals I had been given on MP3 disks by one of my mission buddies. So, it wasn't a complete waste of time because I learned a lot. But mostly, I look back at my time in Lisboa with sadness. Part of that has to do with the fact that Elder Seeley and I did not part well, and I haven't had the chance to speak with him since.

So I left Sao Jose, and went straight to Floripa for the monthly zone leader training held by President Dansie. Besides being my first training, this one was special because we had a visiting general authority from the 2nd Quorum of the Seventy (who was also the President of the Brazil south area of the church), Elder Mervyn B. Arnold.


In Brazil, they say when someone is really animated and passionate, that they have 'fire in their bones' (fogo nos ossos). Well, that certainly describes Elder Arnold. They say (and by "they" I mean the young missionaries who have made the myth surrounding this man) that he has a very weak heart, and could die at any minute, and that once he had a near-death experience, and saw first hand what the missionary effort in the Spirit World was like: fast and furious. They say that when he came to, he was a changed man, and has been 'on fire' like that ever since.

Since my encounter with Elder Arnold was actually a highlight of my mission, I will defer writing about it until a later time, but I will get back to it.


My first transfer in Tubarao was really tough. I had just come from six weeks of sedentary sulking, and was thrown into a higher-geared work schedule with higher expectations than ever before in my mission. As a zone leader, you are expected to be an example of diligence, obedience, and success. Which means, you're supposed to achieve more, in less time, and with a better attitude than all of the other missionaries under your stewardship. I had never been very good at making street contacts: where you just approach someone on the street, or in the grocery store, or wherever, and initiate contact with them, share a message, get a phone number/address, and mark an appointment. I am somewhat shy, and self-conscious. My companion, however, insisted that my first week there, and every week, that we make at least 100 of them, each!


Elder Martinez was in his very last transfer, and it was his responsibility to teach me the ropes for the whole zone (a HUGE geographical area that took 4 hours to cross by bus), and help me to achieve higher success rates, before going home. The pressure was intense, and it was one of the most difficult areas I served in; however, it was the first, and only, area I ever served in with a ward,and not just a branch of the church. That made a big difference.

The city of Tubarao lies on both sides of the river Tubarao, which drains into the Atlantic about 1 hour inland from the sea-side city of Laguna. There are two wards, one on each side of the river, and our area covered the Sao Joao ward on the north side, which was more residential and rural than the south. Yet, there were still lots of businesses and, to me, it looked like a very industrial, unfriendly town. A main thoroughfare in Brazil (the BR 101 which is roughly equivalent to our I-5 that runs the length of the Pacific coast) bisected our area, and we had to run across it everyday, sometimes 2-3 times a day. At first it scared me really bad, but I got used to it. There was also a University (Unisul) in our area, and a footbridge that crossed the river in front of it. The first time we crossed it, I thought I was going to die! My companion had a good laugh. Sometimes, at night usually, we would see capybaras by the river, and that was always an adventure.

It happened that Mothers' Day fell in my first transfer in Tubarao, one of only two days in the mission where elders and sisters can call home and talk to their families. Several nights before that, I remember being up late on my knees, praying for help through the tough time I was having, and seeing a bright white light come in to the room and onto my bed. It was so bright that I noticed it even with my eyes closed. I stopped praying and saw that it was the Moon, bigger and brighter than I have ever seen it before, or since. And it comforted me, somehow. On Mothers' Day, my Mom told me that she had been impressed to pray extra hard for me a few nights earlier, and asked if everything was alright. I immediately thought of my experience with the moonlight, and told her about it. We discovered it was that night that she had prayed for me, and I had been comforted. That was a sweet and special experience, one I shall never forget.

I was trying to think of something profound to say, to sum up my trials and give a moral to all of this, but that's probably not necessary. I think you know what I'm trying to say.