Week 5 transfer 3

Hey guys,

It's been awesome to read all your letters and see the pictures. I'm glad you had such a fun time away from home. Last week for me has been really interesting, we've been working very hard and the time has been flying. This last week felt more like 3 or 4 days. We have been doing a lot to plan for this last week of the transfer. This week we will be making the trip back to Bo to attend a zone conference with our new mission president, President Harper. This will also happen on the 4th of July, which is going to make this a real party. Now normally in this stage a two to three-hour trip somewhere would not be a big deal, but this is Africa, and logistics are everything. This will be the only time for the next six weeks that we will be able to get anything from civilization. Or at least third world Civilization. There's already a massive pile of stuff ready to be received when we get there. Among other things, the equipment for an internet cafe that will make communication with you guys and president enormously more reliable and easier. Although we are not very certain that can happen anytime soon lol. 

As for everything else, proselyting and teaching has been pretty much normal. I'd like to focus on two experiences that I've had this week that have impacted me somewhat.

On Wednesday evening we received a call from our Branch President telling us that his wife had gone into labor, was in a lot of pain, and that he was asking us to come and help give a priesthood blessing to her. I had been anticipating this for a while and she honestly looked like she was ready to pop for some time.

We got ready to go and we made our way to the hospital at around 8 at night. When we arrived President Morrison guided us to the waiting area where his wife was staying before they would enter her into the delivery room. She was lying on a knee-high hospital bed. She was going through a lot of pain, and it was a rather solemn, tender experience as I watched what I knew was just a small part of the process by which every person comes into the world. There was in this particular room no fancy equipment, or nurses yet to receive her. There was only a humble African woman, and her anxious husband looking over her, with half a dozen or so midwives that would observe and then occasionally chuckle and talk about what they were seeing. There were no anesthetics for her, and she was somewhat delirious with pain, desperately grasping for something or anything near her to hold onto. At this point, I had nothing but the most profound reverence and respect and admiration for anyone that would look forward to bringing a life into the world in this way, and was brave enough to do it. But at that same time, the midwives found the behavior of Sister Mattu somehow funny and would laugh and chatter about it. I'm sure it can be funny in some way to people who have gone through it, but right then I couldn't think of anything more rude. 

Now right now I want to tell you guys something about this culture, it's the fact that people think white people are better than them. It's very sad and ironic in a number of ways to us westerners, but it is the truth. And I have had happen very often people who said they were jealous of my supposedly “fine skin” and thought that I knew everything simply because I was from America. I am always given the best chair available when we visit homes. These people honestly don't even think that white people should have to do manual labor. If they see you hauling something they will ask if they can help even when they would never offer that help to anyone else out here or at least not that I've seen. 

The midwives, although they knew what we came for, did not understand our appreciation and our reverence for the sanctity of life. It was not my place to tell them to be quiet, so I didn't. But what I did next seemed to have a greater lesson than the words that I could have used. Since the bed was so short, when I administered the oil, I got down on one knee which I thought was an appropriate gesture of humility, and the second I did so everyone became absolutely silent. Maybe it was a little bit of a shock for them to see someone like me lowering myself to the level that they needed me to be. All I know is that priesthood was at work and that I was grateful that I could serve her and that I could help my Branch president, blessing his wife to successfully and without complications bear a healthy baby boy. There are very few things that I hold with as much reverence as the priesthood. Being ready and Worthy is always on my mind, it is needed in this place more than many others, and it has been a gratitude filling process to be able to exercise that to help others. It's one of my most tender joys of being a missionary.   

The other thing I would like to talk about is something that occurred while Elder Hefa and I were walking back to our apartment after our appointments on Sunday. Previously, it was decided on Saturday that Elder Barrezueta and Elder Lemon would go to Dia and stay overnight to witness how a home group was doing there and be a part of their sacrament service. Because of this, I had a companionship exchange with Elder Hefa .We were able to visit both of our areas, and at the end of the day we walked back along one of the main streets that leads into the center of town. As we were doing this, we passed a small girl who was carrying a large load of firewood on her head. Both me and my companion marveled at such a small child doing such heavy work. I even felt a nudge to help her but I didn't, and soon Elder Hefa began talking to one of his investigators that he found on the street. The girl passed by us and after a few minutes of talking and setting an appointment we continued walking again. We only walked a few hundred yards more when we found the same girl with the firewood sitting on the side of the road, obviously tired from carrying it. I talked with her, asking her where she was going, which turned out to be in my area about a half a mile up the road and then looked at the wood she had been carrying. I looked at her told her in my poor Krio "I tinks say I go carry that for you," threw the load on my shoulder, and asked her to show me the way. While we were walking, it came up that she had in fact been carrying the wood on her head which I now felt on my shoulder to be about 20 to 25 lb. for at least five miles from a village outside of Kailahun. Her name was Mimi, she was about 4 ft tall and 10 years old and it was a joy to talk with her. 

While walking, I received lots of looks from lots of different people, some even laughed, at the absurdity of a white man carrying a little black girl’s load of wood. It seems ridiculous to some of them out here that someone stronger or better equipped or more able would go ahead and take the load of someone else who is not. Someone might easily say out here oh, the little girl has to carry things her whole life, why not just let her learn to be strong and carry it herself? While I did this, I was reminded that someone else had carried a much larger load of wood upon His shoulder, and even a lot more than that, for us. We, who are all unable and not strong enough to carry it ourselves. When we arrived at the girl's house, she told us thank you and it was obvious that she was so grateful for the help. I was grateful to, because I had felt like I had done more there as a missionary than I had teaching many lessons, and I felt a lot more happiness because of it.

The work is going great out here, we're expecting to have another baptism sometime in July, and we will probably have at least four or five maybe or six investigators who will become members at that time.

I love you all I'm very sorry I do not have any pictures for today. I'll do everything I can to get a ton of them this week especially while we're going for zone conference.

Sincerely,

Elder Shill