Well, here we are again, another pday in Italia! Shout outs this week go to my parents, who lovingly write me every week. Also, a mini shout out to Geneva S., Audrey W. and Olivia M. who all need to send me their mailing addresses ASAP. Yes. Dad, tell President Draughn next time you see him that I have been able to see the mountains! I didn't see them until the second or third week I was there, but they're always around. From our front balcony we can see the mountains and from the back balcony we can see the hills.
I am aware that you are going to see Les Miserables in Atlanta. I think (mom and dad) you both wrote to me about it twice. I'm trying not to be too jealous, but then I remember that I'm in Italy and then I feel not jealous at all. Oh, and Dad, you didn't tell me about Adele and the Grammys! And I'm convinced that Squeaky's destiny is to learn to play the ukulele, even though I've already asked her about it and she didn't seem very interested in learning how to play. I think when I was her age I was already teaching myself how to play guitar. Eh. Also, mom, what the heck is Destination Imagination??? You told me you were "appraising" it, but I have no idea what it even is. No idea.
Well I started this pday off with a bang, and I mean that figuratively and also literally because I cut my hair this morning! And by that I mean that I, myself, Sorella Soh, cut my own hair. Yeah! I know! Don't tell Sister Howard unless you think she'll be proud... :p But yeah! My hair has been kind of scraggly lately and I've needed a haircut for a while now, but pdays fly by and I never wanted to spend the time going somewhere, trying to explain in Italian that I just wanted a trim and then having to pay for it. So. I do what I always do in situations like this - I cut it myself. And I did a pretty dang good job, if I do say so myself!! I'd been thinking about doing it all week. I'm attaching a picture that Sor B took of me this morning after I was done. The hardest part of the whole ordeal was the time it took to straighten my hair. I have so much hair! Oh, and my white hairs are REALLY coming out. I was sitting in RS two Sundays ago and I felt someone touch my hair. I turned around and saw one of the old ladies in our ward who was sitting behind me, and she said "you have white hairs!!!!" and all I could do was say "yeah...I know". Anyway, I guess now I can check "cutting my own hair" off my bucket list. I'll probably do it for the rest of my mission. I confess, though, that Sor B touched it up a little bit in the back where I couldn't see/reach very well. In any case, it's done!
Also, after I had cut my hair and we were getting ready to come here to the Internet Point, I opened the door to our balcony to let some fresh air in and, wouldn't you know it, someone was playing an accordion. I don't think it gets more Italian than that - sunshine pouring in through the balcony door, cool breeze, accordion music - it's just a moment you can't have anywhere else.
It is sunny and nice out today, but Monday and particularly yesterday were rainy and gross. I don't know what's going on with the weather. On Friday we saw a sign that said the temperature was 27°C out. Yesterday (Tuesday) it was raining and the sign said it was 2°C out. Crazy. On Tuesdays we typically go teach one of our new converts, Maria. She just got baptized in August and is about 60 years old. She lives on the northern border of our ward boundaries and it takes about a half hour on the bikes to get there. So after lunch yesterday, we headed off to our appointment to go see Maria. We were about 5 minutes into our ride when the thought crossed my mind: "What the heck are you doing?!" So I thought my current situation. There I was at a stoplight waiting to cross the street on my bike, in the freezing cold, in the rain getting wet, at the beginning of a half hour ride across the city trying not to get hit by passing cars driven by reckless Italians that think of traffic laws as more of annoying suggestions more than anything else, in a country where I am still trying to learn the language, going to go visit a woman whose husband doesn't like us or the church and talks bad about us when we're not there. Yeah. And so that led to the obvious next question: "Why on earth are you even doing this?" Well. Good question. And as I thought about it, all I could say was "I love Maria". I love Maria. I love that she is full of questions and asks them all and our lessons are all over the place. I love that she reads the scriptures for hours every day because she is so concerned that she doesn't know them as well as we do. I love that she feeds us pudding or popcorn or apricot jam cake every time we come over. I love that she read the Book of Mormon every day for two years before she got baptized because she knew it was true but her husband wouldn't let her come to church. I love that when she prays, she always starts with "Caro Padre Celeste che sei nei cieli / Dear Heavenly Father who is in Heaven". I love that she keeps the commitments to do the little things we ask her, like bearing her testimony on Fast Sunday. I love Maria. I know that Heavenly Father loves Maria. And that is why I go out on my bike in the rain, in the cold, in a skirt to go bike 30 min across the city to go see her. As I was there thinking about all of this, a car drove past us, hit a puddle, and sprayed us with water. All I could do was laugh. Sorry, Satan, but not today. Actually, not ever.
Well, out of time this week. Sorella Bunker survived her week as senior companion, though I think she may never forgive me for it (sorry Sor B's mom!!!). I love you all and know that the Lord is looking out for you! The gospel is true! It makes us happy and keeps us safe, usually safe from ourselves.
Lots and lots of LOVE from Torino,
Sorella Soh
p.s. also a shout out to Sis Beckwith who my dad said also reads my letters sometimes. Ciao!!!
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