Feliz Navidad desde Sudamerica

Dear Family,

I had a host of possible subject lines for this e-mail home, so I'll treat each one individually in short bursts.

Leaving Buenos Aires
It was sad to leave Buenos Aires, but we managed to say goodbye to our best investigators and left our love and testimonies with them. There are at least two that I'm confident will be members of the church soon. Other missionaries may end up with the numbers, but Elder Gonzales del Valle and I left having witnessed miracles. Our pensionista cried when she found out we were leaving, and she cried again when we left. She treated us like her children; it was hard to leave.

Piano in the rain
I've become the unofficial mission pianist. I thought it a little neat that I got to play in the mission's Christmas program while Dad was at home preparing for our Ward's program. Saturday was the big show. We all met in Trujillo's Plaza de Armas (the equivalent of something like Pioneer Courthouse Square, only bigger) after a devotional in the nearby chapel. We carried a little electric piano and hooked up some enormous speakers to it, threw in some microphones for the singers and were set. All the missionaries close enough to the city of Trujillo to come gathered on the steps of the central monument, and we sang several Christmas songs with little spoken-word bits in between, talking about the birth of Jesus Christ as well as the Restoration of the Gospel. It started raining during the first time through; luckily the electric keyboard was easier to play when it got wet, but the pages in the hymnbook were not easier to play. Of all the days for it to rain! Such was the first day of summer here in Trujillo.

A city built on a hill
Pueblo Libre is built on a hill. The higher you go, the more likely it is that you'll get robbed (or worse). So we don't go up other than during bright daylight hours, and even then we put our watches in our pockets. Our method for not getting robbed is saying 'hello' to everybody we see. It seems to be working so far. From way up high, one can see the whole city of Trujillo and even the Pacific Ocean in the distance. It's a nice view, but not worth bringing a camera up there to risk a picture.

The purple stuff isn't grape juice
That's a lesson I learned on my first day in the Peru MTC. The purple stuff is called 'chicha morada', and it's made by boiling purple corn, adding sugar, and drinking the result. When I first tried it, it tasted what I might imagine a scented candle might taste like if I dared to drink the wax. But lately it's not so bad. I suppose it's more fresh in the field.

They're called fleas and they suck
They're practically invisible, but you can feel them. They're all over the place here in Esperanza. I've been employing my 40% deet the last few days to see if it really works.

It's called fruitcake and they actually eat it here
They call it 'paneton', which literally means "huge bread". I've gotten sick every time I've eaten it, and therefore swore it off after the second time. There are just some things I won't eat more than twice.

Motorcycle taxis
You take the front 2/3 of a motorcycle and replace the back with two wheels and a little carriage big enough for 2 or 3 people. They're everywhere in Esperanza. I only saw one or two in Buenos Aires while I was there. They drive just about as nuts as a normal taxi, but there isn't as much traffic for them on the neighborhood streets.

Supplies are running out
The whole mission has run out of copies of the Libro de Mormon and Missionary Daily Planners. It's a rough situation. I've been planning and living out of my Cesar Acuña (a rather disliked political candidate) miniature notebook (with tear-out pages) that a member woman gave me a month ago. Living without a planner is impossible! We ran out of drinkable water in our room last night (I used the last bit to brush my teeth). Luckily, our pensionista has water that we can drink (and always serves us juice with our meals) - but we're waiting on the elders in our zone who are in charge of water to give us another tank. The woman who rents our room for us (a convert of 5 months or so) heard that we were running low on copies of the Book of Mormon, and this morning she came up and handed us two copies that the missionaries had given her and her son so many months ago. That sort of sharing is what Christmas is about. It made my heart melt.

Wake-up call
Every morning, at about 6, a man walks up and down the street with his box on wheels full of bread, selling it to whoever he can wake up at that hour. He walks by with a little horn (with a rubber bulb and trumpet nozzle like you might see on a child's bike) and makes a big noise. In similar manner, most neighborhood streets are patrolled by other men with carts (and other boxes on wheels) covered in various types of fruit, shouting their sales to anybody who can hear, often using a little microphone that makes their voice metallic and raspy. It's a standing joke among all the missionaries to change one's voice and shout, "rica manzana, cebolla, pepino! mango, papaya, palta, fresa!" or any other combination of fruits and vegetables.

Merry Christmas
I talked with the office elders on Saturday, and I was informed that the packages sent here have arrived, but are still at the post office. That was nice to know, but didn't lead to any opportunity of actually acquiring the goods any time soon. (I'm pretty sure I'm not allowed to recover my own packages from the post office - it's the job of a certain elder in the office). It will likely be after Christmas when I get them, unless somebody nice goes out of their way to make me happy. Tonight, we're having a big dinner with our zone and staying the night with all of the missionaries in our zone together. There was talk about carrying mattresses to this party, but I'm not sure how that's going to work. My companion said we're going to stack them on one of those moto-taxis... I guess we'll see. It's a little rough on the emotions to endure a transfer a week before Christmas. My new zone is a little different than the one I just left, and I haven't had much time to really become friends with any of them, except for my companion. I'm going to make an effort to be a friend to all of them tonight; they aren't as friendly as my last zone, but I think I can help change that.

Today is P-day, and tomorrow we have a day of rest as well. We'll return from the Christmas party to our own rooms at 7 in the morning for phone calls and all that wonderful business. I'm looking forward to hearing from everybody and talking to Drew and Tia in Spanish. It still doesn't feel like Christmas: it's 75° outside!

Travel safely! Especially in the snow! Enjoy all the time with family! Good luck with all the wedding plans! And have a very Merry Christmas! I'll include pictures in a second e-mail.

Love,
Elder Withers