Everything is going well here. It´s super hot, but awesome. As demonstrated nicely by the fact that my new zone is on a futbol field and the old one is in a church, the new zone is a bit more fun. There´s something much more fun and exciting about being out of the city of Santa Cruz. This 22 of December, we will be having a baptism of a 19 year old investigator named Dragon Hitler. Yes, his name is Dragon Hitler. I don´t remember his last names, but his 2 first names are Dragon Hitler, and his brothers are Bruce Lee and Van Damme. What his parents were smoking when they named their children I don´t know, but in this week Dragon received a testimony, he is going to church, and is progressing awesomely.
Other than my dominant reason for serving a mission, which is to help people to know the Gospel of Jesus Christ, I also wanted to have some of those crazy experiences and stories that returned missionaries always seem to have. Yesterday, Yacuiba (my new area) delivered. One of the atttched photos is my journal entry of this experience.
Today, I also experienced one of those crazy stories that missionaries always have. We were talking to a guy who was a bit drunk and trying to set up an appointment to talk to him when he wouldn't be drunk. He asked why we couldn't meet with him right then. "Well, frankly sir, because you're drunk," we replied. "yeah, I've been drinking, but I can still understand you. Let's talk," he replied. We explained to him that he might be able to understand us, but that in his drunken state, he wouldn't be able to feel the spirit. As drunk people often tend to do, he started to get angry. As his anger escalated, we realized that the conversation was going nowhere good, so we bascially said, "We'll talk to you later when you're sober," and started to walk away. He followed us yelling some stuff. We walked faster. He matched our speed and continued yelling. My companion started to job and I joined him. The drunk continued to follow. We started running and zigzagging through random streets and alleys to try to shake him. We couldn't run very fast, however, because we also had with us our 51 year old ward missionary leader who was sick with a fever and couldn't run very well. After darting down a few streets, we'd slow down thinking that we had lost our drunk pursuer. A few seconds later, he'd appear shouting, "Amigos!" Then we'd take flight again. We did this 2 or 3 times before we finally lost him.
I hope everything is going well back in the States in this Christmas season, and if anybody wants to sent some emails to a heatstroked missionary in Bolivia, my email is Jack.Casdorph@myldsmail.net
Elder Casdorph
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