For those that don’t know and don’t care or do know and do care, I started compiling skimpy journal entries, letters (thanks for keeping these, Mom) and thoughts from my mission in hopes of salvaging a seven year-old fading memory of two years of my life, like when I forgot that I had malaria, as diagnosed by my mission president, and finally saw that I had written it in my journal. I know it sounds cheesy but I’m putting it into more of a story/blog format. I’ve been doing it for about six months now and have traversed about a fourth of my mission. Don’t worry; I’m not competing with “The Other Side of Heaven” or “In the Eye of the Storm” (as was the original name of his book). Besides, how could you market “The Other Side of Hell” or “In the Armpit of the Storm?” Just kidding…(no, but seriously).
Anyway, the following is an excerpt and introduction to a story I just finished of one of my first p-days. Don’t make too much fun or I will keep posting them…
In my mission, preparation day fell on a Monday and I liked it that way. Mostly because it gave me time to relax a little bit following Sunday, which for me was probably the most taxing day during the week due to a couple of reasons. First, it always weighed heavily on the soul when picking up investigators from their homes and finding them with a sudden fever or a sever case of gastritis. That’s not to say that all our investigators exhibited signs of sudden illness on Sunday mornings, but it was a practice all too common. I guess "Dios no quiso." Sometimes you would grow to expect it and be pleasantly surprised that the bug failed to reach their house.
Another reason for Sunday’s reputation was the bittersweet taste of fast Sunday. I don’t care who you are, Fast Sunday can be very difficult at times. Of course, if it wasn’t difficult, it wouldn’t be much of a sacrifice and since sacrifice brings forth blessings, blah, blah, blah. Anyway, I learned in my first area that the sacrifice increases at least ten fold when applied during the mission. At least at home, you can ball up into a corner in a fetal position and count away the minutes without expending too much life-sustaining energy. Unfortunately the mission field only offered dust from the dirt roads and streaming sweat as a source of sustenance; especially when the two mixed and formed a nutritious paste on your teeth. But who’s complaining?
The bottom line is that I desperately needed time on the Monday following a fast Sunday to lick my wounds and regain lost energy. At least it wasn’t as bad as a friend of mine who was concurrently serving in Mexico. He was instructed to begin his fast only after his last meal had been digested, which was revealed (divinely, I’m sure) to be approximately six hours. This means if the last meal was at 5 o’clock in the evening on Saturday, the fast truly started at about eleven. This meant that to break your fast, you would have to wait until eleven on Sunday night. I think in that area, the mission president also paid 12 percent tithing, but that allegation has yet to be substantiated. My friend also had a companion that tried stabbing him with a knife. If it meant no more 30 hour fasts, I think I would have let him.
Anyway, p-days provided a much needed rejuvenation period. If we weren’t resting on p-day, we were doing some kind of recreational activity like futbolito (soccer on a small playing area), basketball w/out traveling, double dribble or foul violations, visiting a local attraction, or video games at the local arcade (more on that later).
In guess when it comes right down to it, I really have no idea why it is called preparation day. I mean, I know the textbook answer would be something to the effect that “it provides a set time in which the missionary can prepare for the upcoming week.” What does that mean? Prepare for what? Isn’t that why I had to wake up at six o’clock every morning—to read scriptures, talk about our investigators and PREPARE the best course of action for the day and week. Someone please enlighten me! Don’t tell me I need more preparation time when I’m already doing it six days a week.
Maybe there are other reasons for the term preparation day. Others I could think of would be to get a haircut (once every five weeks), buy new shoes or do grocery shopping. These are all worthy preparation activities but in no way do they represent a day’s worth. Thirty minutes (tops) of true preparation on p-day does not warrant that the term p-day be used by 60,000+ missionaries every day. And I’m sorry, but if you went on your mission anywhere near Third World status like Honduras, Ecuador or East San Antonio, you can’t exactly plan a meal two days ahead, let alone seven—dare I admit that I went grocery shopping other days besides Monday. And even then, grocery shopping, as others can attest, consisted of going to the house on the corner, buying two rolls, a chocolate milk, and anti-diarrhea medicine. And then in some areas, someone cooks for you (which still required a trip to house on the corner for the anti-diarrhea medicine).
Maybe there are other reasons I am not touching on. Maybe it is a term used in the “olden” days to describe a day off when a missionary’s preparation required a little more overall preparation like to skin animals and sew their own clothes. Maybe it just won’t go away and will be like that just because it “has always been that way”—kind of like the facial hair Honor Code restrictions at BYU (don’t get me started). Maybe they need to change the name, but that would probably have to go through the Correlation Committee. Maybe I need to move on.
Anyway, the following is an excerpt and introduction to a story I just finished of one of my first p-days. Don’t make too much fun or I will keep posting them…
In my mission, preparation day fell on a Monday and I liked it that way. Mostly because it gave me time to relax a little bit following Sunday, which for me was probably the most taxing day during the week due to a couple of reasons. First, it always weighed heavily on the soul when picking up investigators from their homes and finding them with a sudden fever or a sever case of gastritis. That’s not to say that all our investigators exhibited signs of sudden illness on Sunday mornings, but it was a practice all too common. I guess "Dios no quiso." Sometimes you would grow to expect it and be pleasantly surprised that the bug failed to reach their house.
Another reason for Sunday’s reputation was the bittersweet taste of fast Sunday. I don’t care who you are, Fast Sunday can be very difficult at times. Of course, if it wasn’t difficult, it wouldn’t be much of a sacrifice and since sacrifice brings forth blessings, blah, blah, blah. Anyway, I learned in my first area that the sacrifice increases at least ten fold when applied during the mission. At least at home, you can ball up into a corner in a fetal position and count away the minutes without expending too much life-sustaining energy. Unfortunately the mission field only offered dust from the dirt roads and streaming sweat as a source of sustenance; especially when the two mixed and formed a nutritious paste on your teeth. But who’s complaining?
The bottom line is that I desperately needed time on the Monday following a fast Sunday to lick my wounds and regain lost energy. At least it wasn’t as bad as a friend of mine who was concurrently serving in Mexico. He was instructed to begin his fast only after his last meal had been digested, which was revealed (divinely, I’m sure) to be approximately six hours. This means if the last meal was at 5 o’clock in the evening on Saturday, the fast truly started at about eleven. This meant that to break your fast, you would have to wait until eleven on Sunday night. I think in that area, the mission president also paid 12 percent tithing, but that allegation has yet to be substantiated. My friend also had a companion that tried stabbing him with a knife. If it meant no more 30 hour fasts, I think I would have let him.
Anyway, p-days provided a much needed rejuvenation period. If we weren’t resting on p-day, we were doing some kind of recreational activity like futbolito (soccer on a small playing area), basketball w/out traveling, double dribble or foul violations, visiting a local attraction, or video games at the local arcade (more on that later).
In guess when it comes right down to it, I really have no idea why it is called preparation day. I mean, I know the textbook answer would be something to the effect that “it provides a set time in which the missionary can prepare for the upcoming week.” What does that mean? Prepare for what? Isn’t that why I had to wake up at six o’clock every morning—to read scriptures, talk about our investigators and PREPARE the best course of action for the day and week. Someone please enlighten me! Don’t tell me I need more preparation time when I’m already doing it six days a week.
Maybe there are other reasons for the term preparation day. Others I could think of would be to get a haircut (once every five weeks), buy new shoes or do grocery shopping. These are all worthy preparation activities but in no way do they represent a day’s worth. Thirty minutes (tops) of true preparation on p-day does not warrant that the term p-day be used by 60,000+ missionaries every day. And I’m sorry, but if you went on your mission anywhere near Third World status like Honduras, Ecuador or East San Antonio, you can’t exactly plan a meal two days ahead, let alone seven—dare I admit that I went grocery shopping other days besides Monday. And even then, grocery shopping, as others can attest, consisted of going to the house on the corner, buying two rolls, a chocolate milk, and anti-diarrhea medicine. And then in some areas, someone cooks for you (which still required a trip to house on the corner for the anti-diarrhea medicine).
Maybe there are other reasons I am not touching on. Maybe it is a term used in the “olden” days to describe a day off when a missionary’s preparation required a little more overall preparation like to skin animals and sew their own clothes. Maybe it just won’t go away and will be like that just because it “has always been that way”—kind of like the facial hair Honor Code restrictions at BYU (don’t get me started). Maybe they need to change the name, but that would probably have to go through the Correlation Committee. Maybe I need to move on.
Really, it’s not that big of a deal, despite the way I make it sound. I guess I’m just throwing it out there.
Moving on…
On one such “preparation day,” I was challenged to a round of Mortal Kombat in an old store on the corner about 50 feet away from our apartment. I was surprised for three reasons: First, I didn’t think the building had electricity, let alone an arcade console. Second, the arcade only took the equivalent of about three cents, and third, Elder Cook, from El Salvador, was more serious in competing against me than any time he talked about the first vision. It was scary and amusing at the same time.
In the first round…
6 comments:
That's so long, I'm too intimidated to read it.
It's the thought that counts...Maybe i'll break it into parts next time. Thanks for your honesty. I just think you saw "mission" and stopped reading, for which, frankly, I don't blame you.
Is that really true about the guy saying fasting starts once youve digested your food? 1st, how do you know once your food has been digested? and 2nd-..that's just stupid.
Very interesting... Who won? Jim Daddy using grace long on
"Grace long on" what?
Dude, don't even get me started on P-day. I know I've told this before but a ward mission leader that I knew in the mission talked about how on his mission "A p-day was a p-day." This meant no going out at 6:00. It's funny thinking about it now considering how heterodox I viewed him then. If I was on the mission now (thank goodness I'm not), I think I'd take regular p-weekends, p-holidays, p-afternoons, etc.
Dad doesn't know how to log on - thus he used my log on. Neither one of us is long on anything. Just thougt I would clarify that for the heterodox in all of us.
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