Johnny Perez Encanta Las Mujeres

Tranquilo is a word that often gets thrown around to describe what life is like in Ayolas. In comparison to Encarnación or even the brief glimpses I've seen of Asuncion, this city is not like any other city in Paraguay. There are two huge neighborhoods of government "cookie cutter" housing and the rest of the housing areas are mainly poverty stricken families who live in the riverside. But no matter where you find yourself in Ayolas, there are always two things: sand and mosquitos. The mosquitos haven't been in full force due to the winter but the ones that didn't hibernate have chosen our bathroom as a common meeting place. Luckily Presidente's wife sent my new companion with a fresh bottle of Raid. As far as the sand, I thought I had left all of that in the high desert of Nevada but some of the places I walk take me back there. Especially when the dawn clouds sink behind the horizon giving the illusion of the Sierras. Ignoring the dogs and goats, maybe for a second the scenery will take me back. 

It is then that Ayolas becomes "tranquilo" to me.

I'm just entering my 4th week of my 3rd transfer here in Ayolas. I always sort of imagined myself as the kind of missionary that stays in the same place for a long time. Just how I would see the missionaries who came to the Hickory Ward stay for what seemed like years and then in a blink of an eye leave. Only for the next legendary companionship to come in. 

But as I've come to know: it takes 1 transfer to meet an area, 2 transfers to know an area and 3 transfers to love an area.

We'll see in three weeks what 4 tranfers bring.

I'm currently writing this at 12:30 am on a bus heading to San Ignacio for the 3rd time this transfer--As opposed to the last 3 months where I got on a bus once. Back then riding the bus gave me horrible motion sickness. That's what walking everywhere for weeks does. But now I'm quite used to it. Usually missionaries try to get the fancy seats on the top level of the bus facing the front window but the chófer gave us some pretty lame seats in the dusty club car. Who knows we might start singing about snow. #ifykyk

Would be pretty appropriate given how freaking cold it got this week.

My new companion only brought a sweater from home (which his mom forced upon him against his will) which has provided little protection in the face of a brutal cold front that is only amplified by the paint-peeling humidity that is Barrio San Antonio in Ayolas. Turns out the Wikipedia page about Paraguay's climate is wrong. 

I remember a couple blogs back feeling cold and wet too if I remember correctly. 

This is the first time I've had the opportunity to be companions with someone who is brand new. I was honestly really anxious to "train" as the official title for my "young missionary leader role." I remember being very well trained in Hunter Lake and then very poorly trained in Encarnacion. That mixed with the overall nostalgia of seeing someone so early in his journey here and my year mark around the corner almost brought me to tears. In fact I think it's the only time I've actually cried on the mission. Which is too bad because I was doing so well.

They always told me I would reach the point where the mission feels like real life.

The middle is such an interesting part of the journey because it's the only moment where one is too far away to look back but too far in to turn back. The darkest part of the night. The middle of the tracks. In other words I'm at the top of Everest but the journey down is as difficult if not more so, given how acclimated I am.

My watch just buzzed hitting 10,000 steps today giving you an idea how bumpy the ride is.

The last time I was on this bus was when I was heading back to my "hometown" of Encarnación for a Zone Conference. The first zone conference I've been to since I came to Paraguay. Usually we have them every 6 weeks but in a Zone that's so far away from everything and an area that is so far away from everyone else and a Mission president that nearly died of  Covid, it sort of hasn't happened yet.

Our new Mission President is Presidente Faúndez. He is a native Chilean and will be released from his duties as a 70 in the upcoming General conference. I actually found an article in the Liahona written by him. Something about ministering which is ironically what most branches are really lacking, especially ours.

He came to San Ignacio to do interviews with all of us. The thing that I loved most about the whole situation is he didn't try to act like he was any better than us. He got out of his van laughing with a grin so big you could see it through his generic brand mask (yeah we still have those here). Left the van with his entourage of office elders and Hermana Faúndez. Just one of the Elders. Just another missionary in this "strange land" trying to manage saving souls.  And even he admits that the language here is so different. Interviews were amazing but the best was when he went out to lunch with us. He casually found the best comedor in the city but I believe he had done his research on Google maps. We ate something called lomipizza. It's basically a double decker pizza with a Paraguay/Arabian version of a burrito slapped in the middle along with some fried egg and ham because it's Paraguayan street food. It was delicious! Nothing like seeing 10 men in suits eating together. (He also remarked on how well we all dressed on behalf of him in OUR  día de preparación)

The Zone Conference was spectacular. It was held in the same chapel of Encarnación rama 1. The same place I bore my first testimony in Spanish, first talk, first church tour, first real spiritual experience and first Zone Conference now. I actually had to lead a group of other Elders there because they knew I was familiar with with area. Obviously I had to run by my favorite bakery on the way down. It was amazing. But there was a part of the conference (which was entirely in Spanish despite most of the Elders being brand new) that made me remember something. Something very humbling. An elder who actually has a decent 2 transfers in the mission under his belt was asked an opened ended question. No answer. You may answer in english if you want, he was prompted. No answer. This is what the scripture he was referring to said, someone explained. Then, an office elder desperately trying to save the situation. Now, the junior/senior year of high school Elder Johnson would have made good fun of this "noob," but I just can't now. How many times have I been put on the spot and failed, or asked God for a little grace or just tried to understand. I can't forget where I came from. I was like him once. It was amplified by Hermana Faúndez getting up after and asking everyone who understood the whole conference to stay seated and everyone else stand up. She said that she was so sorry that some people didn't understand. She said that when she visits her kids in Utah that she can't understand anything either. 

It's the first time I have ever seen or heard of a mission leader humbly admitting something like that.

My last week with Elder Cardozo in Ayolas we happened upon a guy named Johnny Perez. Apparently he is a self proclaimed Paraguayan musical prodigy. Now he's a music teacher and we are teaching the mother of one of his students, Luz. Luz is actually an amazing musician. She plays the accordion and the piano and the guitar and she also sings.  According to Johnny Perez, she has a bright future in music. Kind of appropriate given her name.  Anyway we have met with him a few times and he always puts on a concert for us. They are actually pretty good and he's a really chill guy. He is 75 years old but has the heart of teenager. But yeah one thing he always likes to say is Johnny Perez encanta las mujeres. So yeah just remember, Johnny Perez encanta las mujeres.