Week 3

Hi everyone that I love so much,

Thanks for the picture of me on TV.  Haha.  Heid, you are a master photographer.  I'll be on the lookout for your package.  You can never have too many shoes, even as a missionary.  

This week was full of mostly ups (and some downs).  I should probably mention that a weird flu bug swept the MTC.  We all went to devotional in the Marriott Center on Tuesday, and at the end of the talk, it was like a switch was hit and suddenly all these missionaries were having digestive issues, if you catch my drift.  Some 100 missionaries ended up in the ER.  One of my roommates got the bug so it wasn't the most restful week with lots of doors slamming in the middle of the night, but I was hand sanitizing like crazy.  It sort of felt like a sci-fi movie, with the security guards coming into our buildings wearing rubber gloves and face masks.  Anyway, everyone's better now and my immune system is (hopefully) stronger.

We got a new teacher this week.  Rumor had it that he looked like superman.  (True fact).  Before he left, Brinley Sensei told the sisters to stay focused.  Ha.  I've also discovered the joy of scavenging through all the free bins after all the sisters leave for the field.  I've acquired a new backpack that is quite nice, after I did some surgery and sliced off the handle that looked like had been chewed by a dog.  #thriftshop

The best part of the week was by far the Worldwide Leadership Training Meeting.  Security was pretty tight this week, and we weren't allowed to run on campus since general authorities were getting trampled by overzealous missionaries.  We found out that seats were limited for the MTC choir in the Marriott Center, and missionaries were sprinting across the parking lot to get a seat.  Just like Black Friday.  Minus the hipsters and cigarette smoke I felt like I was at a concert, weaseling my way through people who are a lot taller than I am so that I wouldn't get trampled.  But we survived, haha.  

The broadcast itself was super incredible.  The Quorum of the Twelve all marched in to the Marriott Center, waving at all the missionaries.  You could definitely just feel all the love.  Elder Perry's talk: using Facebook and other social media should be interesting.  I know we'll have laptops in Tokyo but  I'm excited to see what changes will be coming to how we communicate with people.  

In one of our classes this week Willard Sensei asked me to be the investigator as he demonstrated how to teach.  I was playing the role of a less-active member who had once served a mission but was iffy on some gospel doctrine and just wasn't happy.  I found the experience so incredibly frustrating as my teacher was saying, "Do you read your scriptures? Do you pray? Do you go to church?"  Being the imperfect human being that I am, I wanted to rip my hair out and say "I DON'T KNOW WHY ON EARTH I DON'T ... I KNEW IT WAS TRUE AND I STILL DO."  It just really hit me that you can't have the things that really bring lasting joy without the gospel, the Light of Christ in your life.  Questions / doubts are fine ... so many things would have never come about if it weren't for a question (case in point: Joseph Smith).  However, we can't lead our lives with doubt or cynicism.  Let's just say it was a whole lot of internal conflict with my alternate identity.

Anyway, here's my little rant for the week.  I love you!  The Church is true!

All my love, Magi-chan

P.S. Note to Okasan: YOLO = you only live once.  It probably sounds silly, and that's because it is.  

Photo caption:  Awkward photo, in honor of Brinley Sensei's last day of teaching at the MTC

(Tuesday, June 25, 2013)

Week 2

Hi minasan!

O genki desu ka? (I have no idea if I wrote that write.  I am really struggling with Romanji.)  I'm so glad all went well with MoTab.  And that's exciting Katherine will be out here soon.  Sort of weird to think that half my family is literally blocks away from where I am but I will not be seeing any of them, haha. But all is well.  Although Kristen stopped in yesterday before her meeting and I was so happy to see her.  I pretty much see at least one person from school or back home everyday so it makes it kind of fun.  Nearly half the HFAC population decided to go on a mission this summer so we are having a lot of stellar musical numbers.  I'll probably try and track down some music one of these days and audition. 

I thought last week was good, but this week was even better.  That whole analogy that every missionary uses, "WHOAAAAA being in the MTC is like drinking out of a fire hydrant," no longer feels so applicable now that I feel like I have more of a routine down.   I mean, I know there will be inevitable struggles down the road, but every day it's so simple.  Wake up at 6:30, get ready for the day, and study Japanese and whatever else you need to do to teach your investigators / invite others to come unto Christ.  I am never questioning what I am supposed to be doing that day.  I love the feeling of pounding Japanese verb conjugations and gospel doctrine into my head for the whole day and then dropping into bed and sleeping like a rock.  I discovered that we do indeed have an adjustable thermostat in our room so I cranked up the temp so I no longer sleep in the fetal position every night. 

I really love our district.  I knew everything would be okay the day that one of my roommates woke up and sang a song that she made up about the Great Gatsby, sung to the tune of "Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer."  We also like to stand next to each other in the bathroom and sing Regina Spektor and the Beach Boys as we brush our teeth.  Cheney shimai keeps me entertained with all her random stories.

My favorite thing this week has been gym time.  Someday I want to break the MTC mile record time, which is an extreeeeeemely lofty goal (but I guess they don't call it a record for nothing).  I've still got a lot of time to shave off.  But it gives me something to think about as I run around the track for the millionth time (I'll admit--times like these I miss my iPod).  It's also probably one of the only instances in which I feel okay with being competitve on my mission.  Our district is also pretty athletic so some of the sisters and I have taken to soccer.  Yesterday we played and I'm definitely feeling it.  I suppose that's what I get for pushing other sisters in the mud as I play.  We all just run back and forth on the field yelling things in Japanglish that don't make any sense in but we have the best time. 

I love studying Nihongo! Which is a very good thing because I will be doing that for quite a while.  Both our teachers are super solid.  One of them was Alex's companion for a week and the other knows both Alex and Kristen.  Although Brinely Sensei is leaving us at the end of this week for a new job since he's trying to get an MBA and working at the MTC won't exactly give him the work experience he needs.  But they're so paitent with us and you can always feel their testimonies in every lesson.  I'm happy that I'm patching up all those little gaps that I have in my grammar so I can sound like a somewhat intelligent person instead of the Tarzan-talk that I have been doing for far too long.  A bunch of Japanese sisters flew in this week and the elders in our district volunteered me as tribute to go inform them that one of them left their chapstick in the classroom.  I think they understood me.  I also attempted to explain what kind of contact solution is good for soft lenses when I ran into them at the bookstore.  I really hope I told her the right thing but I think she still has her vision so apparently I communcated all right. 

The end of this week will probably be a little wild as the First Presidency and entire Quorum of the Twelve Apostles will be on the MTC campus training all of the new mission presidents.  Our entire schedules are being shifted around to accomodate.  I unfortunately do not get to go to sacrament meeting with the First Presidency but our zone leaders get to pass them the sacrament.  Apparently they have to attend a 2-hour rehearsal to practice passing it.  The MTC formed a choir for the worldwide training meeting on Sunday and the choir has nearly 1500 missionaries in it.  I'm not sure what the rest of the campus is like during choir rehearsals since nearly every missionary is at the rehearsals.  But we all get to go to the training meeting so look for me in the choir.  Not that you'll see me.  But I've noticed that the BYU camera people like to zoom in on people who are not white, haha.  I will probably wear green since I think that is the only solid colored shirt I brought and they are being supppppper specific about what we can wear. 

I suppose I should say something spiritual now.  On Sunday I listened to Elder Bednar's talk, Characters of Christ, and it blew my mind.  One thing that I am trying to work on is being more selfless.  Sometimes I think I use the word "I" way too much and this talk really put things into perspective.  "Get over yourself," Elder Bednar said so many times.  He talked about how a testimony is not enough to sustain you and that true conversion requires turning away from the natural man and getting on a path to continual conversion.  We need to be willing to pay the price to know what we need to know.  The Savior always turned outward, and that is something that I am striving for.  Read the talk if you get a chance.  They encourage every missionary to listen to the talk during their MTC stay and I can see why.

Thank you for all your letters and emails.  They make my day every time!  I'm already experiencing the intense joy of mail time.  Sometimes I feel like Steve from Blues Clues.

Love, Magi-chan

P.S. Could you please send my my navy Toms? It would be much appreciated.  Danke.

Japanglish phrase of the week:

YOLO: ikkai dake ikiru

Photo caption:  Tacky obligatory missionary photo. 

(Tuesday, June 18, 2013)

The Week I Had Two Last Names

Hado minasan!

Week 1.  WHOAAA. Probably one of the longest weeks of my life.  But I'm happy and learning lots.

Favorites / Things I have learned / Fun facts / Otherwise notable things:

1. The sisters in our district like pigtails.  That lasted all of two days when the MTC Presidency outlawed them for fear that we would be channeling Laura Ingalls Wilder.
2. The MTC does not have the capacity to handle all the electricity that sisters consume.  Discovered that when I was blow drying my hair a few days ago at the same time as a sister next door and all the power went out.
3.  Elder Bednar's missionary haircut was very similar to mine. 
4.  The cafeteria has all the salad, cereal, and ice cream that I could ever want.  So I guess it's okay I didn't pack boxes of cereal.  

5.  The elders like to walk around saying, I'm gonna teach this lesson bosu no yoni.  I'm pretty Japanese people don't often say "Like a boss" but it's kind of funny.  

Here's a windy rundown of how things have gone this week:

The night before I entered I had the best dinner with two of my favorite married people (Brittani will always be on my list of top companions :) and then the next day I went and taught English with Kristen to two boys from Saudi Arabia and a girl from Mexico.  We met up with Aunt Leslie and Josh to have lunch at Cafe Rio with every other sister missionary within a 100 mile radius.  Kristen had to go to work at the same time that I was to report, so we pushed my suitcases the two blocks from their apartment.  We were literally standing on the curb across from the MTC when a senior missionary told us that they couldn't let us in because of the huge influx of missionaries (930+ on that day) so she had to turn around and go get the car.  So I sat on the curb while she ran home and got the car so she could drive me 20 feet to get inside the gate. So as a note to myself for the next time I decide to serve a mission, no walking to the curb. 

When I tried to check in, they couldn't find me anywhere in the system.  (How on earth did I come to the MTC on the wrong day??)  Turns out they just did everything under Okaasan's (my mother's) maiden name.  So that meant I was walking around with missionary tags that read Sister Ochii Willden for a couple days.  I got another set of tags so that I have one set to match my American passport and another to match my Japanese.  It was a little bit of a struggle but now I know what my name is.

Our district has 8 sisters and 4 elders.  Our entire zone got 24 new missionaries last Wednesday, all going to Tokyo.  I think there's another zone with more new missionaries all going to Tokyo too.  So there's a lot of us.  16 Japanese missionaries flew in yesterday who are joining our branch.  Japan's exploding with missionary work! It really is exciting. My companion is a 19-year old sister from Alaska.  You could probably say that we are the most opposite in terms of personality but we make it work.  She's quite good at talking to everyone regardless of what language they speak. That includes the cafeteria workers who don't understand a lick of Japanese and give us weird looks.  But it's great. 

My Japanese is slowly improving.  I can officially pray, bear my testimony, ask people to commit to things and I've been working on learning a new kanji everyday.  So I should be able to read the Book of Mormon in Japanese by the time I get home.  Just in time.  

Thank you for the package you sent the other day.  Saved my life.  And I love Zachary's quote.  I also feel like a kitty when I pray.  The Church is true.  Love you all!

Magi-chan

PS: Lydia! Your wedding announcement is adorable.  You two are like a dream.  Also, to the really nice person with an 801 number who texted me the night before I entered the MTC, I didn't have my phone so you should let me know who you are so I can write you.

PPS: Happy birthday this week to Otousan and Heid.  I hope you have a lovely birthday and wish I could bake you a cake.

Pic 1: awkwardly teaching the midget in the depths of the laundry room

Pic 2: sisterly roommates

(Tuesday, June 11, 2013)

Decisions

When it comes to most things, I have never been a decisive person. Deciding to serve a mission was no exception. I was certainly never the girl that "knew my entire life that it was my calling." It had been a decision that I began seriously considering the summer of my 20th birthday when I realized that I could be very well be serving as a missionary exactly one year from that point. Serving a mission was not exactly on my to-do list. But neither was attending BYU, majoring in piano performance, or living in Utah (not to be a hater or anything ... ). Life is funny sometimes. Prior, it had simply been a matter of "I'll cross that bridge when I get to it" situation.  Only, that bridge came much sooner than I had anticipated.

One Saturday afternoon, I was making my way out of the BYU testing center, my hand recovering from a winding essay on polyphonic 16th-century music. As I do following every exam, I glanced at the wipe board near the exit that generally screams some sort of witty remark or countdown to brighten a student's dampened spirits. President Monson announces that girls can serve missions at age 19, it declared in glaring red Expo marker.  I didn't believe it. However, the countless texts of Are you going on a mission?!  I've already called the bishop! confirmed that no human crying "April fools'" would be jumping out of the bushes anytime soon.

What ensued was a fascinating frenzy of seemingly every BYU girl reassessing her life plans to see if a mission should be a part of it. For me, it was a matter of prayer, scripture-reading, countless late-night phone calls with my parents, and far too many bowls of Life cereal at 2 am for months.  I guess I was just waiting ... waiting for some single, momentous confirmation. I didn't want to go "just because it was cool" [insert hipster joke]. But the more that I thought and prayed about it, the more right it felt. Interestingly enough, the strongest confirmations came as I would be perched on my little piano bench in the solitary confinement of a practice room. One day, as I was drilling a measure of a Debussy prelude for the umpteenth time, it hit me like a ton of bricks. And that was enough for me. The gospel makes me happy; I want others to be happy. The world could use a little lovin'. I'd also be a liar if I didn't admit that the prospect of living in a foreign country for 18 months was appealing. I decided that I would just begin my papers, and if it truly wasn't something that I was supposed to do, I would know it. I finished my papers. I submitted them. I received a call. 

Some days it feels so entirely perfect. Tokyo remains the former stomping grounds of my father, brother, and sister-in-law during their days as missionaries. I'll finally progress beyond the second grade in my Japanese skills. Most Some days it feels so entirely intimidating. I realize I have little comprehension of truly how difficult missionary work can be. Regardless, I'm confident it's a leap of faith that I won't ever regret. This doesn't mean I won't miss my family, stilettos (so sorry to sound shallow), my "sleep-inducing hipster music" as my brother likes to say, the piano, or my friends in Provo any less. But I'm so grateful to have the opportunity to serve and can't wait for all the experiences that will be undoubtedly difficult but rewarding.

On a side note, I stumbled on the following video one day. If I needed this, maybe someone else does too. It's a good one.

my name is Richard Parker

// life of pi by yann martel //

This book has been sitting on my "to read" list for far too long. And by long, I mean ever since the eighth grade when my middle school best friend delivered an oral report on a book about a tiger, a raft, and God.

Better late than never.

I'm no book critic, but because I want you to know that I am literate, here are my thoughts.

Particularly with the recent film adaptation, the plot line is familiar to many: 15-year old Piscine "Pi" Molitor Patel of Pondicherry finds himself in the harrowing struggle for survival following the sinking of a cargo ship. The lone survivor, Pi finds himself in the company of an orangutan, hyena, crippled zebra, and one gargantuan Bengal tiger Richard Parker. Unfortunate circumstances soon leave Pi with no traveling companion other than the tiger, and the pair endure a 227-day ordeal.

I quickly realized that to reduce it to the tale of just a "tiger, a raft, and God" serves injustice to the complexities of the novel. The many juxtapositions--of the rational and irrational (3.1415926535 ... ), empirical and theoretical, scientific and philosophical--made for a well-crafted story. Furthermore, the book's structure serves to be an allegory of sorts. We are initially presented with a note from the author, who relates his experience in stumbling across Pi's incredible tale. The novel then launches into a first-person account in the eyes of Pi, who tells reveals that he has a story to "make you believe in God." His experience that began with the ill-fated cargo ship turns out to be more than just a story of human survival; it becomes an exploration of the resilience of the human spirit and reconciliation of beliefs and reality, and throughout the novel we are drawn to Pi's inclination to find the "better story". In a distant similarity to Big Fish, the book examines the value of differentiating between truth and imagination and the merit of storytelling. Pi asserts that he spent 227 days aboard a tarpaulin with a tiger; the Japanese investigation crew asserts that such a story is ridiculous. Readers are confronted with the decision to choose to believe the far-fetched but "better story," or be satisfied with the mundane.

I saw the movie first. I loved it. I loved the book more. The novel is able to delve further into the theology and ironies that make Pi's account so captivating. Squeamish readers should probably take note, however. Martel's writing, though lyrical and fluid, spares few details, and I found myself resorting to speed-reading skills that I learned in Mr. Ross's seventh grade Language Arts to save my stomach.

I worried that the novel would quickly fall flat (Castaway, anyone?) but found the theological bend to be thought-provoking and led me to reassess my own faith. Though my personal experience did not find the novel so faith-promoting, this isn't necessarily a criticism as it led me to reconsider the roots of my own faith and was therein faith-building. A simultaneous subscriber to the beliefs of Hinduism, Christianity, and Islam, Pi finds appealing elements of each religion, chiefly a belief in a higher being. He also finds some admiration in atheism, as it requires a commitment to not believe in God in spite of lacking evidence for such a conclusion. In his mind, however, agnosticism is "unimaginative" and analytical to a fault.

One of my favorite passages:

"I can well imagine an atheist's last words: "White, white! L-L-Love!"--and the deathbed leap of faith. Whereas the agnostic, if he stays true to his reasonable self, if he stays beholden to dry, yeastless factuality, might try to explain the warm light bathing him by saying, "Possibly a f-f-failing oxygenation fo the b-b-brain," and, to the very end, lack imagination and miss the better story.'"

the Would-be Baker

There's something so magical about baking. If this week is any indication (1 batch of brownies, 1 strawberry-rhubarb pie, 3 loaves of banana bread, 1 batch of cookies, 2 double-layered cakes ... ), I can't help myself.  I'm not necessarily good; I'm just addicted.

But I think I've done it. Found the perfect chocolate chip cookie recipe, that is.  In my determination to succeed, I've never used the same recipe twice. (I actually don't really like to use recipes ever--maybe I'm prideful, maybe I'm stubborn. I call it creative license.) From the moment that I mixed up my first batch of chocolate chip cookies, I have been on a journey to find the mother of all homemade chocolate chip cookies. When I pulled these babies out of the oven, KA-CHING. It just LOOKED like a chocolate chip cookie should. Originally printed by the New York Times (I knew I liked that city), the recipe takes at least 24 hours and 45 minutes to be properly executed. Yes, you MUST let it refrigerate an entire day. Allows the sugars and yumminess to mellow.  No cheating.

Chocolate Chip Cookies  

Adapted from Jacques Torres  

Time: 45 minutes (for 1 6-cookie batch), plus at least 24 hours’ chillin' 

2 cups minus 2 tablespoons (8 1/2 ounces) cake flour
1 2/3 cups (8 1/2 ounces) bread flour
1 1/4 teaspoons baking soda
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1 1/2 teaspoons coarse salt
2 1/2 sticks (1 1/4 cups) unsalted butter
1 1/4 cups (10 ounces) light brown sugar
1 cup plus 2 tablespoons (8 ounces) granulated sugar
2 large eggs
2 teaspoons natural vanilla extract
1 1/4 pounds bittersweet chocolate disks or fèves, at least 60 percent cacao content (see note)
Sea salt

1. Sift flours, baking soda, baking powder and salt into a bowl. Set aside. 

2. Using a mixer fitted with paddle attachment, cream butter and sugars together until very light, about 5 minutes. Add eggs, one at a time, mixing well after each addition. Stir in the vanilla. Reduce speed to low, add dry ingredients and mix until just combined, 5 to 10 seconds. Drop chocolate pieces in and incorporate them without breaking them. Press plastic wrap against dough and refrigerate for 24 to 36 hours. Dough may be used in batches, and can be refrigerated for up to 72 hours.

3. When ready to bake, preheat oven to 350 degrees. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper or a nonstick baking mat. Set aside. 

4. Scoop 6 3 1/2-ounce mounds of dough (the size of generous golf balls) onto baking sheet, making sure to turn horizontally any chocolate pieces that are poking up; it will make for a more attractive cookie. Or, if you're like me and you'd prefer many smaller cookies as opposed to 18 monstrous ones, scoop mounds of dough the size of baby golf balls to yield about 2 1/2 dozen 2.5-inch cookies. Sprinkle lightly with sea salt and bake until golden brown but still soft, 18 to 20 minutes (or 16 minutes if using smaller mounds of dough). Transfer sheet to a wire rack for 10 minutes, then slip cookies onto another rack to cool a bit more. Repeat with remaining dough, or reserve dough, refrigerated, for baking remaining batches the next day.  Or don't and just eat it raw.  

Yield: 1 1/2 dozen 5-inch cookies.
Note: Disks are sold at Jacques Torres Chocolate; Valrhona fèves, oval-shaped chocolate pieces, are at Whole Foods.  

Now I can die a happy lady.  For a more danceable baking experience, turn on some tunes.  Ready, set, go.

1. You Can Tell the World, Simon and Garfunkel
2. Tell' Em, Sleigh Bells
3. Milord, Edith Piaf
4. Down With the Trumpets, Rizzle Kicks
5. Party, Beyoncé

good things.

I suppose some sort of introduction is in order.

Confession: Blogs were never appealing to me. Something about spilling my guts on the worldwide web was not on my list of enjoyable pastimes. Yet here I am.

I was sitting at my kitchen table the other day, lamenting about how I missed writing for my high school's paper and found myself with a sudden, relentless itch to just write. Something. Anything. I subsequently began this blog as a creative platform for releasing my thoughts, my latest musings. On the good.  Good things. Like the really cute grandma that asked me if I was fourteen twelve years old, or the privilege of getting the last licks of ice cream from the carton, or the piano concerto that brought me to tears.

I don't really know where this is going. I'm not sure if this will even be interesting. But apologies aside, here it goes. If you want to read along, that's great.

In other news, I'm leaving on a mission in 14 days.

Cover photo courtesy of http://www.standardculture.com/posts/7287-Wanderlust-Chronicles-Secret-Travel-Items#