July 22, 2014

Hello America

Well, I'm back.
The cliche about it's easier to leave your family, than to come back to your family, is true. Your family you know you will see again, Argentina and the life as a full time missionary you are leaving forever. 
It's like you live 21 years to get ready to be a missionary...and then just like that you are back in the house that you left. It's weird. It's like Argentina was just a dream.
But it wasn't. I really was a missionary, a representative of Jesus Christ.Taking off the nametag made it a reality.

Now I could be classified as an awkward returned missionary.
Well, it's been a whole 5 days. (I think?)
As for awkward....I did go to the homecoming of my mission president sunday, and kinda forgot that I can hug ex-elders. One went to hug me and I stuck out my hand. Oops.
I went to walmart by myself. I drove. I have turned on the radio. I have been alone without my companion. I have taken long, hot showers. I slept in (one day only) until 9. I have stayed up past 10:30. Wow, what a wild life. The truth is, you feel a little guilty for doing all that...like you should be out knocking doors and studying and all. But then you remember that the 24/7 calling changes just a little....

I have eaten Kneaders, cafe rio, slurpees, chocolate chip cookies. (Not to mention an alfajor, dulce de leche, mate cocido). I have ventured on to facebook (because almost any form of friend I have nowdays lives there). I have put on jeans. I went to a wedding shower.

The craziest part was first walking in my house. I walked in my room and was speechless. I forgot all I had, and couldn't believe I actually owned it. Like, there was even carpet. It felt magical to wash and dry all my clothes in a matter of hours. I just stood in awe, looking around my house. It has it all...a dishwasher, automatic garage door, cleanliness. The fridge was full, the cupboards had more than rice and oil and pasta. You would never understand all that until you have lived in a different world. The truth is, everything has seemed superficial here.

People say I talk in english funny. Sometimes the phrases don't come out quite right. And the accent is different. Oh please, I never want to lose the spanish. 

I would love to eat a churripan and a big bowl of hermana carlson's fideos. We did go to the argentina panaderia in orem...and it is closed Mondays. Dang it. My next project will be to relive the mission through looking at and organizing all the pictures. And tomando mate. I guess if I can't go to Argentina, it will have to come to me.  (I may even start sweeping the porch every morning)

flag of Argentina

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