Sunday, August 14, 2011

Just Call Me "Sista-Gurl"

                                                       (Brittany outside the MTC July 27, 2011)
Whew, ok, so, its really been two weeks already?! Where have I been?! But time has passed so fast/slow, I don't even know if I'm facing backwards or forwards at this point. I just gotta keeping movin' along, singin' a song, playing ping pong, (no, I don't think we're allowed to do that. When in doubt... don't do it!)
Yes, that was me implying there are a freakish amount of rules. And this is me saying it: THERE ARE A FREAKISH AMOUNT OF RULES! But the weird thing is, I feel like I was made for this life. I have a good background in Spanish, I don't get homesick as easily (yes family, I still miss you), as I did when I first came to college because I now have the emotional experience and maturity to cope with my feelings. I know what to expect. I have become a cyborg. My dad will have to help me out and correct me if my nerd references are off. I think he owns stock in the Sci-Fi channel. But really, I feel like I was preparing to be a missionary and I didn't even know it. And that will help me through those times of having to hand wash underwear, or dealing with my face (which sweats like Seattle rains). So yeah, there are rules.
*Be up at 6:30 a.m., be in bed by 10:30.
*Study. Eat.
*Study more. Eat (less).
*Be with your companion always, always, and did I mention always?
*Be dressed modestly (well, yeah) and look sharp 
                                                                 (At the Provo Temple)
These are a few of many. There are 82 pages dedicated to this lifestyle and we have to read at least 3 of them a day. But I have few troubles with the rules, except for one, and it's surprising: We're not supposed to call Elders "guys, dudes, bros," or basically anything except for Elder (inset last name here). Same for Sisters. No "girl, gal, lady," etc.
Why is this so hard? Beats me. I guess because I don't think of as missionaries all the time. Which we are. My district (48H, best in the world!) was playing sand volleyball the other day, and when one of the Elders who is super short and ridiculously loveable made a terrific save, I just want to go slap him on the back and yell, Oh, yeah, that's how it's done, Zackerson!" (Oh, that's another rule. NO TOUCHING of the opposite sex. The reasons should be more or less obvious). So I have to make do with a high five and slip in an Elder. Not too hard in theory, but in practice...
Which is why I think of myself as Sista, or Girl. or better yet, the two together. I also like Hermana cuz it sounds less lame than Sister for some reason. I really liked it the other day when I was playing four square in the gym, and I was the only girl. I was making some pretty naughty plays and schooling many of those 19-year old guys. Elders. You know what I mean. And every time I did a particularly good play, they'd clap and yell "oooooooooh, Hermana!" Now that, I can handle.
Anyways, all-in-all, I am really enjoying myself. And in just one short week, I will be on my 17-hour flight, Dominican Republic-bound. Scary. Awesome. I'm gonna be so covered in Spanish, it's not even funny. And I will speak so well, no one will know I'm not native. Except for everyone with eyes. And ears, probably. Well, till next time, this is me, from the Provo MTC (for now), and I am still, for a year-and-a -half, Sista Gurl.

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