New companion: Elder Monson!

Ry Fianakaviana,

We had an arm wrestling competition to see who got to do the dishes.

Dope sunset with some dope trainees

Spiders next to the elders' house...

Our roof--nice...

View from our roof

Elder Monson

Having a great time with my "son." (mission lingo for new trainee) Elder Monson is already flippin' good at Malagasy, and he writes a ton of words every day in addition to the corrections I write down for him. Gonna be Vita Gasy in no time us two. He's already has a great love for the very coarse and kinetic Malagasy lifestyle: the crazy kids, the constant noise and rigorous work.

Starting to Use Bikes = Sore Bums:

Our program was bit all over the place the last couple days because I had to travel to Antananarivo for a lil' bit. In order to catch all our important peeps, we used our beyond repair bikes. Mine had no seat except for a small, pathetic, plastic representative, and Elder Monson's chain kept falling off. As a result, these last two days were a blast. They consisted of dozens of catcalls from Malagasies, a lot of running into fences, getting caught in sandpits and saying appropriate, angry words. My bum is suffering today.

Drunk Antandroy Preacher:

This was actually way fun. We showed up to some return times with a little yard full of Antandroy families. Antandroy is one tribe from the South of Madagascar. I'm up in the North-East region of Madagascar, so I have no idea what they're saying. Their dialect is not mutually intelligible at all with most of the dialects in Madagascar. In my opinion, it's not Malagasy anymore, haha. Anyway, we noticed that they were all drinking together, so the grandpa took us into a room and started preaching/bellowing to us. Throughout arms flailing, belly and pecs flapping and phrases like "Jesus Christ is the water of life" or "Jesus Christ can move mountains, cause a star to fall and destroy the world," Elder Monson and I calmly sat on his couch, enjoying the experience for about ten minutes--pretty dang fun.

President Paul's:

Every Sunday each fortnight, we have a soiree (dinner appointment) with our District President. He's the boss of all the police here in Tamatave, and as soon as you meet him, you know who's the boss. Sometime, I'll send a picture. Can't think of a way to describe him. Chubby buff? Scary kind? Malagasy Hulk? His wife is a hilarious, master chef. The food she cooks has converted me to Malagasy food--a testimony of rice is developing now. She also lets us each take a bottle of her homemade fruit juice, delicious. 

Malagasy Morsel of the Week - Sopiera:

Sopiera is my official nickname here. A 'sopiera' is a white bowl/pot with flowery design, a flat-bottom and a lid.  It's uses include: decoration, keeping rice warm and as an extra seat. Every time I tract, the Malagasy always realizes my name sounds like 'sopiera,' then they chuckle a bit, bust a gut or think my name is really weird. It's extremely helpful for getting into houses because it makes the Malagasy comfortable quick, and it's an easy name to remember. Plus, they like rice, so anything to do with rice is usually beloved.

Stories for Next Week:

-Yaya

-Saving a Puppy (don't know how to tell it, heh)

Love you all so much!

Elder Soper