Hola mi familia!
Yeah, it´s not Monday, sorry about that. I was supposed to tell you last week that we had a Zone Conference yesterday, so we changed our Pday and I forgot to. Buuuut, I´m here now! :)
So, I guess I should start from last Monday. Just after emailing we went to the stake center to eat lunch and play games with the other missionaries in our zone. After playing games we went to the kitchen where we had left our groceries and things, and my bag was gone. The doors to the chapel had been left unlocked and someone probably waltzed in, saw us all playing in the gym, grabbed my bag, and left. So, mom and dad, that explains the call you got about the credit card, and canceling it and such. The thing is that I never have either of my credit cards with me, in case of robbery, but it was the first monday of the month, so we had to go to the bank to take out all our money. Of course, all my monthly money had been in my wallet as well, so we had to call the finance guy and he put my monthly allowance on my companion´s card so I could have that. I also had the home card because I was going to take off some money from it as well, but I didn´t get the chance, so there´s the that. Most everything else in my bag was replacable. My agenda, my chapstick, my water bottle, the emails I had printed out, both from last week and the week before (sorry to those still waiting for replies! I´m reprinting everything today, so thanks for the patience haha, I promise I love you all!), The worst thing though, was my camera. My beautiful, kind of expensive camera, case, extra battery and SD card, and the computer cord. I thought it would at least last the transfer.
But I´ve learned some things. First of all, God knows what we need. And that week hadn´t been the best week to begin with. One of the elders in my zone talked about how a mission experience is kind of like marriage. It starts out in the honey moon stage where everything is great and you´re excited and love everything, and then reality hits and things get hard, and then with time you learn and grow, and things slowly get better from there. Buuuuut, that´s not really how it happened with me. Reality hit my right off. The culture is different, the food is...well...not North American, and everything is in spanish. It´s probably the farthest thing from a honey moon. It´s hard. I was talking to one of the sisters from Georgia in our zone about how the days are kind of split in half. The first half will be really good, you´ll feel good and excited, and happy, and the last half is hard, and you´re discouraged, and down. Or it´ll start out hard and end up happy.
But it was interesting. When I found out my bag was gone, things didn´t get worse, things got better.
Firstly, let me tell you something about bags and women. Due to some wise-guy in history, womens pants and skirts hardly ever have useable pockets, or any pockets for that matter. So if a girl wants to carry something, she can either use her hands, or a giant external pocket attached with a strap over her shoulder, more commonly known as a purse, or bag. Basically, anything of any value to a girl, you can find in her purse. So when I found my bag had been stolen, not only had I lost quite a few valuable posessions, I literally felt like I had lost a limb, my heart, everything.
And then, I started to find things. We were walking to the bus, and while we were waiting, I realized, ooh! I still had my watch. Sitting on the bus I thought of our appartment. Ooh! I still have all my clothes. My sleeping bag. My weird little multi colored hippy monkey sent from the fam. My scriptures. My journal. (Two things I had almost put in my bag that morning). Oh, and get this. One of the sisters happened to have an extra camera. It´s from the ice ages, and the selfie range capacity is basically none (bummer), but what a miracle! And the best part, as we were just getting to the appartment, I realized that I still had my Nametag. Yeah, it´s cheesy or whatever, but when I looked down and saw it, I almost started crying. None of that stuff mattered. Not that it doesn´t really stink that I lost a months worth of pesos. Not that I don´t still groan every time I take a picture on my little feo camera. But I´m still Hermana Cannon, still serving here in Argentina, still representing Jesus Christ. And that´s all I need.
Anyway, time´s about up, but there´s my dramatic story for you.
Aaaaaand speaking of the miracle camera, I have it, but the computer doesn´t read the card. So I´ll see if I can come across a camera cord next week and see how that works out.
oh, also, here´s the mission home address if yall´s wanna send me letters!
Hermana Emilyn Cannon
Mision Mendoza Argentina
Cabildo Abierto 161
5501 Godoy Cruz
Mendoza
Argentina
Love you all!
Hermana Cannon
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