So this week was really crazy folks. To start with we had a normal Monday and Tuesday and then we were off on Wednesday to have interviews with the mission president. To be honest it seemed all normal until it was my time to talk with Pappy Dester. So we got in and Pappy D just started in with the big guns. Want to know the crazy part? It wasn't to attack me. It was about an elder who was living in our house. He had been fighting with his comp and this had been his last chance. Well turns out he got the pink slip and got sent home. Only bad news for me and Elder Sessions, due to the crappiness of Honduran law anyone under the age of 21 can't get on a plane without written consent from your parents. To add to the problem the elder is Mexican and his parents were on vacation and they couldn't get a hold of them. So he was with us for an undetermined amount of time.
Pres. Dester's reason for this was..."Elder Duff, I feel I can trust you with anything. And if he gets out of hand just hit him." To which I said, "President, are you giving me permission to hit an elder?" "Just do what you must." yeah so this was a whole bunch of new developments in my life. First and foremost it means that I might end up with a whole bunch of crappy companions due to the act that he trusts me to help straighten them out...crap... Number two is that for an unknown amount of time I am stuck in a trio with a zombie Mexican elder. Number Three...did I mention that it was for an undetermined amount of time? Well let's just say challenge accepted.
Then after we left that meeting it was time to be a babysitter. We really didn't get to do a whole lot of teaching this week since he was just a spirituality sucker in every lesson we tried so we just ended up having to guard him so he didn't do anything stupid. Wasn't that bad since he was a spiraling wave of chaos and emotions wrapped in a tortilla with some chilies for spice. So we only had him for four days until he went home on Saturday. But the emotional drain was just a killer. As in the house was this spirit of just pity and sadness not to mention that a whole bunch of planes pass over our house every single day leaving this dark foreshadowing with every flyby. But in the end he headed to his house with a spirit to better and see if he can come back and finish his mission. And I only have to say that good for him and I hope the best. In the meantime Sessions and I are trying to emotionally recover from this week. A hard job but it would be easier with a shipment of Swedish Fish (hint, hint, cough...hint) Sorry for that coughing fit there. But we should be fine.
Also in other news, this week has been a week of miracles. Yes there is more than one miracle with Madison emailing me three weeks in a row. So it is no small secret that I hate dogs here in Honduras. And the other well known fact is that they hate me too. Not my companions, only me. Well as usual these nasty rat-mutts that I encounter always try to take a bite out of a missionary and they are driven off with rocks, kicks to the face and at times other more drastic measures. So this Saturday we had a baptism, planned for two but only one showed. So we went after to see what had happened to the other guy. On the way this dog we always pass and always tries to test me came out to have another go at the white guy. But this time I had help from on high.
So as soon as this dog started barking I prepared myself. Taking my shoulder bag off and swinging it with a force near nuclear in power, I spun around on my heels to confront my noble foe. There he was, running towards me with that big ugly mutt face that he has, mouth open and a spittle of drool dripping off his one good fang, the other was lost in other conflicts with the missionaries. He got close when suddenly the swinging centrifugal force from the Bible and Book of Mormon in my bag delivered a God sent power slam that even Thor's mighty hammer could not have delivered.
The effects were both immediate and dramatic. My furry foe took the blow to the bottom of his chin and flew into the air, spittle flying from his mouth along with the one remaining canine tooth. He hit the ground hard all air flushing from his lungs in a satisfying sound. But my foe was quick to react and rose to his feet and quickly retreated back towards his safe haven of a home. But he was foolish on one part. He kept his head on me to make sure I didn't attack again. While running blind he ran out into the road and quickly was hit by a semi truck loaded with Chocoleyde (the local brand of chocolate milk). And thus this week justice was served. We had a ceremonial moment of silence for the fallen foe which lasted all of two seconds and then we were laughing and yelling for joy at the fact that the dog had met his well deserved fate. Our celebration can be summed up with the song and number from "The Wicked Witch is Dead" from The Wizard of Oz. And thus we saw a mighty miracle here for the boys of Milagro.
Well that is enough crazy tales for this week. Just want you to know that I love you and can't wait to hear from you all.
Loves,
Mike
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