The Milanos went over well. My companion and coordinating sister are [?]ly devouring them as I write. I'm most excited about the Vitamin C--I've been chugging two orange juices a meal to dose myself, and it was becoming very old very fast. (I'm eating a lot of salad. I don't know why. I'll be so healthy I won't know what to do with myself if this keeps up.)
I'm glad that my blog is so successful, but unfortunately I can't read a word of it. The computers here will only access lds.org and myldsmail.net, and missionaries are no longer allowed off campus except to go to the temple. Maybe I'll have a little more freedom in S. Korea, but I doubt it. Word on the street is that President Jennings is very strict--nylons-in-August strict.
If you want to send me my blog comments (and I'd love to read them), try dearelder.com. It's a website where you can type out an e-mail to a missionary, and they'll print it and deliver it to the MTC free of charge. Save you all that wrist cramping.
I'm feeling better, though my head's still feeling a little pressurized, partly from the Korean and partly from the cold or whatever.
Sister Copeland's sinus infection is starting to recede due to the Super!antibiotics she got from the clinic here.
I'm reading History of the Church in my 4.5 minutes of pre-bed free time every day.
My district has taken to singing four-part acapella harmonies late at night when we're done studying. Elders Gygi and Lalatin started it--they're excellent singers.
Today we did our first stint in the phone center, following up on folks who have ordered free Books of Mormon or DVDs or such. I didn't achieve much or talk to anyone interesting, but Elder Conley got three referrals and Elder Gygi one. . . though he also got chewed out about polygamy by someone else.
. . .
You have no idea how hard it is to finish a letter in this place. It's now Sunday. I'm coughing constantly, like the tragic heroine of a Victorian novel, despite eating decongestants and Vitamin C like candy. But other than being on the verge of death, life's good.
I need to inform Bethe and Bug (and Nora) that the Korean word for gibberish, like "blah, blah, blah," is Momo. Let them make what they may of that.
Dad, write me again and tell me about your mission--your investigators, your companions, your adventures. I'd like to know. Maman, tell me about the missionaries who taught you. One was called Elder Garfield, right? I remember so little of that story.
When I get to Korea I'll get new tags, entirely in [Korean], so my current super-handy magnetized tag will no longer be useful. So if you would keep an eye out for those magnets . . .
Et Maman, il y a une petite boite que j'ai oubliee dans le WC des filles--creme de jarelle pour le visage. Puis-je l'avoir? Merci mille fois.
Pictures are included. I love you!
I was going to make digital images of the pictures RoseE sent along with this letter, but last night I dropped my (new) camera on the floor and broke it. So that will have to wait until I can get the warranty people to replace it.