Monday, May 23, 2011

My missionary.

R. Cole Tipton, my missionary, sent me his memory card from his nearly 13 week stay at the MTC (Missionary Training Center) in Provo, Utah, after his last day there, on his way to Japan (Got it?).  It took me a while to figure out how to get his pictures off of that darn memory card.  As it turns out, there are adapters for that type of thing.  You can't take a card from one camera and plug it into another expecting the pictures to just pop up.  That would be efficient.  Instead, you get to go to somewhere like, oh, let's say Target and purchase an adapter.  Technology is sneaky like that.  The better technology gets, the more money you spend for efficiency!
True to form, there is not one picture of Cole where he is just smiling.  Why that would be too normal.

After a rough e-mail last week, we got a better one last night.  Enjoy.

Who needs a bike and rain suit when they've got legs and skins, baby?
My bike will be ready on the 29th. That is after transfers, so hopefully I stay in this area. A missionary has also offered to give me his bike, just because he's not sure he wants to send it home, and he wants his legacy to live on through it or something. It's way nice, but it's not green. It would save us a buck or two, though. We'll see what happens. I most likely will just buy the green giant.

So the Hiramatsu family is my favorite family in the world other than my own and the Weasly family (think Harry Potter). I told them they were my Japanese grandparents. Apparently that can be insulting to some oldies, so sister Hiramatsu corrected me and they are now my Japanese parents. She's also 29. Brother Hiramatsu is a classy old man with a lot of art and records and cool glasses. I asked him about the Japanese story of the man who gets his ears ripped off  (I sort of forgot how it went) and he whipped out a book that was on the table and bam, right there was the story. How neat. Dad remembers, I'm sure.

We've been dendoing (doing missionary work) harder. We've been really trying to talk to everyone we see, because before we really didn't talk to anyone. As prayers would have it we have three lessons this week: one with a man who says he has no interest in joining our church but is very interested in religion, and two with less actives that I had the pleasure of calling on the denwa (phone). There's also an eikaiwa ( English class) party this week. I'm not sure what exactly is included in that (I think it's just a gimmick to get people to come). At any rate, it'll be a party of engrish conversation and dericious goodies. And maybe dancing.

In Japan there is a lot of old people. The average age might be 150. From time to time I get to thinking out thoughts. In church we teach an old man (who's not mentally sound enough maybe to be in class w/ the rest of Sunday school) out of the gospel principles book. As I was flipping through it, the last page said something about the moment we will return to our God again. It made me think of the hymn How Great Thou Art, which we sung in the MTC choir. I just about wept hard-core at these lines: When Christ shall come, with shouts of acclamation--and take me home, what joy shall fill my heart.  And in my weeps all I could think was holy cow, we're going home! It gives a new perspective to life down here when I'm reminded of that.

So here I am, in it for the long haul. Thank you for your prayers and support and I love you. Quinn is a stud. Truman... Emily and Steven, you get that house. Mom and Dad, stay in the same house please. Also, packages are way expensive to send, so if you want to hold it out that's way a-okay. As for Quinn's package, it's ready as ever. I just have to figure out how it'll get to the states now. Sweet. We got new futons and they're fluffy and happy. I still weigh around 70 kilos. Life is rough when you're a walking flub. If you could also send a flash drive, that'd be all right. Also, I have a lot of dollar store post cards and I need to send one to Mitch. If I could get his address that'd be da bomb.

Never give up!

Love, Elder Cole Tipton

Also, I forgot to mention that I ate raw horsemeat sushi. I felt like a murderer.

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