The Missionary that was Returned: Korean carrots, space bags, and beautiful tatami under old futons

Well hello there family, how are you? My companion and I struggled through the typhoon last week, but it didn't even rain in Saijyo.

Then we got it figured out. Saijyo is completely encased in mountains. We pulled out the big map of our area and looked for the little lines that shows elevation. We are in a bowl! That's why the rain never came. All the rice fields were looking a little yellow on top. Speaking of rice fields, I have taken about a thousand pictures of them this week. On Saturday we went into some of the more country-side parts of our area. I mean really country. The problem was where there are tambo (ricefields) there are mosquitoes. And these are super mosquitoes. My companion jokes that because I'm American, they are excited to drink my blood. I'm like a specialty.

Maybe you know, but to grow rice you need a LOT of water. I mean a lot. You basically have to flood the fields all summer. That's not hard in a place as humid as this, and right by the ocean too. I think I might miss these rice fields. I feel lucky to be in such a pretty area and not in the big city. But then again, in the big city maybe we would have more investigators.

As mom and dad have learned, I gave a talk yesterday. The thing is I've been in this ward for 4 months, so I couldn't take the first 5 minute to give a self-introduction and then just share a favorite scripture and sit down. Everyone knows me! So I had to give a real 10 minute talk, in Japanese. Of course I didn't actually start preparing until Friday night/Saturday morning. Probably my fault.

I'm glad the bishop liked it. His English is perfect. Dad, I heard from him your reply. ' Tell her she is my favorite daughter. She will smile at that because she is my only daughter'. But in your email you said you maybe sent it in Japanese? Anyway, the bishop said that my dad has a great sense of humor. I kinda laughed at that.

Daddy, if you don't like Utah wards you could try Japanese. They would give you a calling out here like nursery leader since you don't know Japanese. Well, actually this ward is very multi-lingual. There is a Brazilian family (for whatever reason there are a lot of Brazilians in Japan), an American family just moved out last month, and other various American speakers. I'm convinced that's why the bishop is still the bishop. He's been the bishop here for like 7 years. But he is the only one fluent at English, so maybe there is no replacement? He is really good at what he does.

Anyway, the gross story (aka, that's-way-too-much-information story) this week is a lunch brunch with a bunch of old ladies at the Relief Society president's house. She has a kidney stone, and so now only eats really healthy. She found these cheap (ish) Korean carrots, and put them in the soup. Korean carrots do not look like normal carrots, but a weird skinny ginger root or something. They are really good for your body, but really expensive. See if you can find them on Wikipedia or something. In Japanese they are called 朝鮮人参 or chousen ninjin. Anyway, it cleaned out my digestive tract, in a good way. I heard from my companion that studied as a nurse for a while, that your intestines and especially your colon is covered in stuff that normally just stays there. They are called impacted feces. Reading that in my dictionary was the first time I've ever heard about it. Well, this magic carrot just cleaned me right out. It wasn't painful or messy.

It was perfect.

The mold house continues, and as my companion focused on putting un-used futons in space bags, the sister and I focused on the one half of the living quarters in the giant kitchen. When we were done we saw the floor. I asked her how long it's been since she's seen the floor. Several years. When we come over this sisters starts cleaning. Like I said before, we are just creating the opportunity for her to clean. We also put the futons they use every day out and beat them. The kids saw the tatami floor and all the space and started dancing in the space. I doubt they often put their futons out.

We enlisted the help of Kishimoto Kyodai. Or Brother Kishimoto. He is a convert of about a year, and when he finishes college in the spring he plans on going on a mission. He wants to go to America, so wants to learn English. He helped put the futons in the space bags.

But when it came down to vacuuming out the air, this vacuum nozzle wasn't flat, so it didn't work. Well, he is studying engineering at the university that specializes in engineering, and he wasn't about to let a vacuum nozzle stand in his way. After about a roll of cardboard box tape (you know, the brown stuff), a couple of toilet paper roll ends, and chopsticks for reinforcement, he got it to work. I couldn't help but think of Jay, engineering who knows what. At least this vacuum didn't have extra pieces left over when he was done.

Well, until next week.

While looking for an address, we saw this on the side of the road. I thought it was ridiculously funny, so I took a pictures next to it. I think the helmet adds a nice touch.