134. Roller Coaster of Emotion
- L Rshaw
- Jul 12, 2020
- 11 min read
Updated: Mar 25, 2022
"If you are tuned out of your own emotions, you will be poor at reading them in other people"
--- Daniel Goleman (Author, Psychologist, & Science journalist; 1946 - Present)
I look at the multitude of stories I've written about other Areas I served in, and I wish I had more stories to highlight during my time in Valle Hermoso. But I was only there for just under 6 weeks. And they were my last 6 weeks as a missionary of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. That's not to say that those 6 weeks were uneventful, but most of my attention during that time was focused on my feelings about experiences. In some ways, that's what matters most.
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I wrote a story a long time ago called, "Become As Little Children" about the first lesson I ever helped give as a brand new missionary dropped in Mexico. In my first Area, Monterreal, Rio Bravo, I was so inept and naive. I strained to understand what anyone was saying, and even fewer people understood a word of my grotesque Spanish. I didn't know what I was doing. I didn't know where I was going. I didn't know anybody. I felt so inadequate on all accounts. And I wrote then about how important it is to learn humility and to trust in the Lord. Well, now in the dusk of days, I could understand every word of what people said and went as far as being often complimented on my Spanish fluidity. I knew what I was doing. I knew where to go. And I had made many many friends over the course of 2 years in 4 different cities on the Mexican border. But just the same, that doesn't mean that I no longer needed to be humble or to trust in the Lord. Just because I'd become a master teacher didn't mean that I was no longer a student. I was only 20 years old! And I've continued to learn all the more since then.
MISUNDERSTOOD
There was a middle-aged mother that had recently been baptized before my arrival that lived in the far Northmost edge of the Jardín Area. Her living situation was humble. Her house was shack-like. At one point, we helped her family tear down one of their particle wood walls and nail a mesh window in the newly formed hole. She didn't have a lot but she made do as best as she could.
Well, I was very excited to meet her because my companion, Elder Torres, set her up to be one of his favorite people in the city. But I know how hard it is for people to say goodbye to those "first missionaries" they meet, in this case, Elder Angulo, and to welcome the stranger who replaces them (See "5th Area: The Lord's High Ways"). So I came in with an abnormally high level of energy and confidence, hoping to make a good impression. But her attitude was anything but warm. The look of her face was closer along the lines of wanting to kill me. She didn't smile. She rather ignored me. She was like a child who didn't get what she wanted and was pouty about it. At one point, I tried to make her laugh by saying something along the lines of, "Do you have any questions that we could answer? Like why is the sky blue? Just kidding, it doesn't matter." That was the phrase that did me in. "It doesn't matter". Or at least that's what I thought I was saying. I thought it was obvious that what I was going for was, "Why the sky is blue isn't important or relevant to our discussion". But what I said was, "No me importa". All of a sudden, she snapped at me, intentionally humiliating me in front of my companion, calling me out for some unknown reason because of that phrase. I understood that her complaint was based on something I'd said, but I didn't understand how I could have been misunderstood with three words. I defended myself apologetically saying that I was sorry if I misspoke but that Spanish wasn't my first language and in my nearly 23 months in Mexico, never once had anyone corrected me if I was saying it wrong that entire time. I tried to assure her that I meant no harm and that I felt horrible for upsetting her. Well, supposedly, no me importa, doesn't only mean, "I don't care" or "It doesn't matter" but it can also mean, "I don't care about you" or "You don't matter to me". Spanish can be technical like that. But most people would never interpret what I said, in the context that I used it, to mean anything offensive.
She was just looking for an excuse to take her feelings out on me, not actually misunderstanding me. With some gentle intervention from Elder Torres and some words from him on my behalf, we made peace and became friends, and visited her family often. Even at the end of my Mission, I was learning a thing or two about humility as was she. I think it goes back to what I've said before about "Seek and Ye Shall Find"; if you look for the bad in others you will find it, but if you look for the best in others, you will also find it (See "Sabbath Day Observance"). Therefore, assume the best of others and don't be so quick to judge others because you see things differently or misunderstand them.
THE ELEMENTS
The weather and climate were some of the hardest things to adjust to when I first arrived in Tamaulipas (See "Culture Shock of Mexico"). I eventually acclimatized for the most part, but that doesn't mean it didn't take its toll. Being out of the house all day every day, we had our fair share of both favorable and unfavorable weather, some of which I've talked about in previous posts.
Because Valle Hermoso is very rural, when it rained, the Area was not only wet but very muddy, like in Rio Bravo (See "Chilly, Muddy, & Moving"). I remember seeing dozens of dead frogs scattered across a paved road in the grassy neighborhood flattened from being run over during a summer storm. Likewise, the mosquitoes were prominent in those early weeks when it was the wettest.
On the first Saturday in the Area, June 4, 2016, Elder Torres and I had to skip through some large puddles of murky chocolate milk water in order to get to an appointment which inevitably seeped into our shoes. It was another humble shack of a house out in the middle of nowhere. They opened the door where we met with them very briefly and learned that he wasn't even going to be around for another 3 weeks (or so he claimed). It was then that I realized that I probably wouldn't be around if they were to ever get baptized. We ducked around the corner, sat down on the curb, and wrung the chocolate water out of our black socks. Remembering that we opted to walk everywhere since there were no taxis or peceras in the back-country, we got a workout amidst the sweat in the humidity and sun. Our poor feet! No wonder I was so emaciated and fried and tired by the time I got home. No matter how undesirable and problematic wet socks were, to be honest, by that point after almost 2 years of being dirty and exhausted, I didn't care so much as I did when I was new to it. I just had to put up with it for a few more weeks.
ACCEPTANCE
But the hardest part of the Mission wasn't the elements; it was trying to get people to accept what we had to offer. I love people. Period. Hence my degree in Psychology. But it was near impossible during that time to find anyone who wanted our help which was discouraging. I told Elder Torres that being a missionary is like Buddy the Elf when he's walking through the woods, meets a raccoon, and wants to hug it but the raccoon wants nothing of it. That's just the honest truth that many people want nothing to do with missionaries, which is their choice, but I wish that we as a human race would do better to be less judgmental and more open-minded. Of those uninterested in missionaries, there are indifferent ones, and then there are occasionally hostile ones. Don't assume you know a person just by looking at them. Know that the next time you see a missionary of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints that they have gone through some tough times and offer them the gift of your time, company, and food if you have any. They usually have so little and give so much. They're there of their own free will with no financial compensation for what they do. That should speak volumes of the kind of people they are.
COMFORT FOOD
Speaking of food, there were good moments too. For starters, there was a local burger place several streets Southeast from our place that sold some of the best burgers I've ever had, and definitely the best hamburgers in Mexico (See "Food, Glorious Food"). They also sold incredible potato wedges with chopped-up carne asada and lots of melted cheese and butter which was to die for called, "Papas locas", or "Crazy potatoes". It was worth the walk and the six of us bought dinner there pretty often. If anything could brighten up a disappointing day, it was good food and good company.
There is a slang used by Spanish-speaking missionaries. One of those words is, "Mama Galletas" which literally translates as, "Cookie Mom" but is a term used to refer to any woman in the Ward who you could count on to give you food or to generally spoil you as missionaries. Well, we had one of those in Valle Hermoso as well and there was a time, I think it was around the Fourth of July, where she invited all the missionaries in our Zone to her house for a summer dinner. Not only was the food to die for, but it was out of the goodness of her heart. You have to give it up to those kinds of selfless people who make serving a Mission that much more doable, especially when it's not an easy thing in the first place.
THE GOOD PEOPLE OF JARDÍN
I got to speak in church on my dad's birthday, Sunday, June 12, 2016, which was a rare gift considering I could count the number of Sundays I was in Valle Hermoso on one hand. By this point, I'd probably given between half a dozen to a dozen talks on various topics in Mexico (See "Be Ready Always"). This time, similar to my talk in Buena Vista, I felt prompted to talk about the principles of the movie, "Ephraim's Rescue", namely the importance of "Always Being Ready" and how it relates to repentance (See also "Administering to the Sick and Afflicted" and "Night of No Labor"). Elder Torres also spoke. After the meeting, one man came up to me and told me that my talk was "edifying" and "true". But more than speaking volumes of me, it speaks volumes of them!
Even though I was only in the Ward for a couple of weeks, which meant that my contact with them as a whole was limited to a handful of Sunday meetings and occasional weekly activities, the Jardín Ward Members were extremely kind and mindful. Even though I'd be leaving them as quickly as I'd come into their lives, they were incredibly welcoming and made me feel at home already.
That's something that I felt impressed to tell them on my first Sunday in the city. It just so happened to be Fast Sunday which means that the members of the Ward have the opportunity to get up and share their testimony with the rest of the congregation (See "Fast" and "Testimonies and Trainers"). As a missionary, I always preferred to give the time to the Ward members since we had the opportunity to bear our testimonies all day every day. But in the final minutes before Sacrament Meeting finished (See "Sabbath Day Observance"), I made eye contact with Obispo Rangel on the stand who nodded to allow me to push the meeting slightly over time in order to introduce myself and say a few words (See "Bishops and Shepherds"). I remember getting up and smiling uncontrollably. I told them that I would be finishing up my Mission in their Ward and I bore testimony of Jesus Christ. And among my remarks, I felt impressed to tell them how I loved them and had felt the spirit as soon as I entered the chapel with them (See "A Still, Small Voice"). It was true. As we watched everyone enter the chapel, even though I didn't know any of them and they didn't know me, I felt their warmth and strength and wanted to let them know it. They were incredible!
MY FAMILY
During the first week, we'd walked over to Obispo Rangel's house late one evening which is where he and I really got to know each other better. As Elder Torres was in the bathroom, Obispo Rangel asked me about myself. Like many Mexicans I met, he was curious to learn about my ethnicity as a dark-skinned American. I was always proud to do so. I told him about how my parents had met during my dad's Mission to New Zealand. My mom was invited to a Ward Activity by a roommate where they watched a video about the Restoration of the Gospel. My mom knew it was true. My dad and his companion subsequently taught her and my dad baptized her (See "Baptism by Immersion"). My dad returned home shortly after just before Thanksgiving Day. As they were eating, my grandparents asked him what his plans were. He said he'd felt like he needed to marry my mom who was back in New Zealand. By this point, they'd never had any romantic feelings between them. But at the same time, my mom who was on the other side of the world in New Zealand had the same dream for 3 consecutive nights. In this dream, my mom was kneeling with my dad at the altar in the temple getting sealed together as husband and wife (See "Eternal Family"). She thought it was strange the first time since they were uninvolved and would likely never see each other again, but by the 3rd time, she accepted that if it was meant to be that it would be. My dad sent a package for her to open when he called on Christmas Day. Inside was a teddy bear with his name tag and a note. The note said, "I Love You". When my dad told her to flip it over, she turned the bear over and saw nothing. My dad asked her what she thought and panic ensued as my mom saw nothing and acted like it wasn't a big deal. Misunderstanding. She turned the card over and saw it say, "Will You Marry Me? You have 5 seconds to decide". Because my mom hadn't said anything, he'd assumed she wasn't interested. You can imagine how glad and probably shocked he was when she said yes. And so my parents got engaged before ever dating once. If it wasn't for my dad serving his Mission, I likely never would have been born.
You can understand from this story why the Mission meant everything to me. I hope you see things through my eyes a bit better. Heavenly Father brought my parents together and He has a plan for me just as He has a plan for you. When I was a missionary, I did my best to look at people through His eyes and to "See Others As They May Become". I felt it only right, as a small offering, to dedicate a couple of years to His service and to live my life. The mud, the heat, the mosquitoes, the emotional demand, and the physical demand were so worth it. Because of it, I've gained perspective. I hope that my children one day will be blessed because of my own faithfulness.
I don't think I've ever met anyone with more faith and who's a more Christ-like example than my mom. To date, she's still the only member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. I don't know why that is. I don't know what her 13 siblings believe but I know they're good people but I just wish that they'd strive to be "More than Good". If my sincerest prayers are answered, they'll join the Church one day. Hopefully, that'll be sooner than later but until then, our love for one another is unconditional.
We don't have to have everything in common to be one (See "One" and "One Lord, One Faith, One Baptism"). But I hope that despite our differences we can see eye to eye. It's a gift to be able to see things as other people see them and it's a gift that I became aware of thanks to the time I served as a missionary. Even now, years since, I know that the Mission changed my life and has influenced the course of my future for the better.
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