Status: Finally Finished
Public Enemy
Immersion
After a flight of about seven hours, we arrived in Mexico City, the world's second largest city. The Mission President's assistants (who were also full-time missionaries) were there with a van to pick us up and to take us to the his home. We enjoyed what would be our last home made American meal for the next year and a half.
We went around the room telling about ourselves so that our President could get to know us a little better. He asked us to say one thing that was special about us. I knew that I would say that I was a member of a Cherokee tribe. When it came my turn, my mind blanked. Instead, I accidentally blurted out, "I speak Cherokee." I wasn't fluent in Cherokee. He asked, "How do you say, 'I'm happy to be here'?" I had no idea. I knew basic Cherokee, about as much as the normal high-schooler knows of Spanish or German. After thinking it through, I just couldn't come up with it.
"I don't know, sir," I replied. He looked at another missionary, "Would you pass the potatoes?" I was a little embarrassed. I waited about four months before I corrected myself to him.
Later that night, I went in to his office where he would speak with me privately. "Elder Cole," he said, "after much prayer, I feel that you should work with Elder Sanchez in Conejos." He handed me a picture of a Mexican teenager in a suit and tie, with darker skin and curly black hair. The President continued, "I spoke with Elder Sanchez just the other day and asked him in English, 'Elder, do you speak English?' After repeating myself a few times, he told me, 'I have no idea what you're saying, President.'"
I knew that I was going to have to study Spanish every morning and try to get by everyday without English. It was a very overwhelming feeling.
"I'm ready, sir."
After the President had spoken to each of us individually, we were driven to the mission offices where we would bunk for the night. The next day, we would travel alone by bus to our first areas in Mexico, having studied Spanish for only seven months. I wasn't able to sleep.
We went around the room telling about ourselves so that our President could get to know us a little better. He asked us to say one thing that was special about us. I knew that I would say that I was a member of a Cherokee tribe. When it came my turn, my mind blanked. Instead, I accidentally blurted out, "I speak Cherokee." I wasn't fluent in Cherokee. He asked, "How do you say, 'I'm happy to be here'?" I had no idea. I knew basic Cherokee, about as much as the normal high-schooler knows of Spanish or German. After thinking it through, I just couldn't come up with it.
"I don't know, sir," I replied. He looked at another missionary, "Would you pass the potatoes?" I was a little embarrassed. I waited about four months before I corrected myself to him.
Later that night, I went in to his office where he would speak with me privately. "Elder Cole," he said, "after much prayer, I feel that you should work with Elder Sanchez in Conejos." He handed me a picture of a Mexican teenager in a suit and tie, with darker skin and curly black hair. The President continued, "I spoke with Elder Sanchez just the other day and asked him in English, 'Elder, do you speak English?' After repeating myself a few times, he told me, 'I have no idea what you're saying, President.'"
I knew that I was going to have to study Spanish every morning and try to get by everyday without English. It was a very overwhelming feeling.
"I'm ready, sir."
After the President had spoken to each of us individually, we were driven to the mission offices where we would bunk for the night. The next day, we would travel alone by bus to our first areas in Mexico, having studied Spanish for only seven months. I wasn't able to sleep.
♠ ♠ ♠
This was a very exciting time for me. Every missionary is excited to get into the field. It was especially exciting for my group because our visas had delayed us from coming. We were supposed to arrive on August 10th, only two months after we had arrived at the Missionary Training Center. We had been temporarily reassigned to different areas while we were waiting. Some went to Spokane, San Diego, Sacramento, or Denver. A few other missionaries and I had been reassigned to the Las Vegas West mission during our wait.