Monday, November 29, 2010

You can also visit my other blog,
http://kristystories.blogspot.com/

Jared 11/29/10

Jared's second letter from the MTC

Oh hey! Now i get lots of stuff!
Umm, I dont care about you posting my stuff online. Oh yeah i did see Bradon, that was nice, and I also saw Michael Neilson which was also way cool. Andre coming was a big deal, but I doubt it had much impact. I had invited him on facebook and asked his mother to invite him as well, and it worked :)
So everything is great here. Chinese is crazy, I love it. For thanksgiving, Elder Holland came, which was AMAZING. The spirit was so strong, but every day the spirit is super strong, so thats not really saying much. Days are kind of starting to fly by now. When I write in my journal at night, I often forget what happened today, and what happened other days. I also dont quite remember what I've written to people, but this week I got a ton of letters (4 from my family alone) which was super exciting :)
A few of you asked some questions about what I do all day, I'll offer a quick review.
Wake up at 6:30 (out of bed by 6:40 :P (drives my roomates nuts, even though I still get ready before them))
personal study 7-8
breakfast till 9
generally class/companionship study from 9 to 1.
sometime between 1:45ish and 6 we generally have class, companionship study, language study, sometimes gym.
6 o'clock is dinner.
After dinner we teach our investigators normally, have time thats more discresionary (you choose with your companion what you will studying. Often the recommended activity is computer lab where we practice and learn chinese.)
Then after all that at 9 we plan, discuss what our goals were, and whether or not we met them, and plan for the next day (aka copy our given schedules into our planner)
On sundays and tuesday nights we get firesides which you learn a ton at :)
Some other questions you had:
My district is me the three elders I room with (one being my companion elder Mohr) and 3 sisters. The way you can think about it is its pretty much my class, that does everything together. My zone is much larger (all the chinese speaking elders) that have rooms next to us and we generally go to the temple, and firesides with. (although firesides include every missionary at the MTC, we try to sit as a zone.)
Natalie - will say the same thing I said before I left, Chinese 5 is amazing, and its a curved GPA :D
Girlies - Of course AP eauro is hard. I feel little sympathy :P
Yeah I've heard Harry Potter has an inappropriate scene in it, and I'm not sure if i like the implication of not only my lil sisters seeing such scene twice, and even less enjoy the implication of them dating Dirk. Not okay, never okay :P
So did you know Mormons in Northern California say "hecka"?lawls right? My companion said it once and I just laughed. My roomates are all super chill. Although none of them have girls back home, so we don't ever really talk about that haha.
Happy thanksgiving!!!
It was super delicious here. We got a feast for lunch, and a sack dinner :P We got to do a way cool service project though, where we made backpacks for underpriveledged people :) (I doubt I spelt that right, but I dont care, I speak Chinese now) We also got to watch a movie about a catholic preacher who converts to Mormonism, which was super old. Good story, just super old. Oh for our sack lunch dinner, it was really cool, cuz we all got together as a zone and shared what we were thankful for :) It was hilarious though, because my roomate was baring his testimony and Elder Youse barged out of his room and said "If you give a Youse a cookie!" I thought it was a clever joke, but you know maybe not the most appropriate timing :P
So it snows here like all the time... and it's super cold. Everyone else is like "Oh this is nothing" and I'm dying... It was super exciting the first day it snowed tho, I had dreams of building snowmen, and making snow angels, and then the next meeting our leader said "No building snowmen, or making snow angels." So now it's just cold. Although I still enjoy watching it fall and make everything serene, I'm sure I'll get sick of it soon enough :P
So fro Christmas, I would like a CTR ring in Chinese (I have no idea where you'd get those) and I think I'm going to use your card to buy a better memory chip for my camera (right now it holds like 10 pictures...) so thats no good. I'm not quite sure what else I would like, but I'll let you know :)
I love the work up here, but I just really want to go to Taiwan. Oh hey fun fact, if you're an assistant to the president during a Area conference supposedly you get to go to Hong Kong. New goal right there! Alright love you :)
And writing Dear elder is definitely more convenient, because I only get a half hour on the computer, and it'd be nice to not use it reading something I could have by other means :) Oh hey so supposedly I get to call you the day I leave for Taiwan which is pretty cool. Didnt know about that.
Love you family!
(Mom it's your discression what you want to put on your website)
(Fun fact: Missionaries cannot hold hands with girls, ever. This includes temple services. Oh and yes you can get haircuts here, I'm getting one today in like a half hour :)

Jared's letters from the MTC

Jared's first letter from the MTC 11/22/10

Well, I didnt get a message from you, so idk what to think. Oh wells, MTC is crazy good :)
my companion is awesome, and the spirit is really strong. My district is super cool, especially our hilarious district leader. My district has 7 people in it, 6 of which are going to taiwan, and 3 of them are sisters, which is nice :) my chinese is really coming along, and everyone was super impressed the first few days of class, but I really don't know that much more than anyone else, because my class never taught about church vocabulary.
It's a ton of work here, but it's good work. My class is on a new pilot teaching method which is actually super crazy. On our first day our teach would rarely teach english to us (and still rarely does). On our second day we were given an "investigator." (He's really a teacher, but we have to treat him like an investigator, and he only speaks chinese.) We've had three lessons with him so far (all in chinese), and we have another one tonight. On Friday, we lose him :'( and get two new ones (both in chinese of course.) I really like this new teaching program though, it really provides focus to our study time. During our study time, instead of relaxing and what not, we have to study up and figure out how we're going to be teaching xia dixiong (our investigator) for that night. I love our teacher, she's really great.
It's snowing here.... definitely not used to that. But I'll have a white Christmas which is pretty cool :)
How's home? How's the 'girlies' :P
One of the coolest things I've learned I read from "Our Search for Happiness" and ii regret that I dont have it with me, or else I'd quote it. But it said something along the lines of "Joseph Smith's great grandfather prophesized of a time when his lineage will bring about a great change in the religious views of the world." Crazy right?
Oh I had a couple favors I wanted to ask you. I would like you to make sure my address on my facebook account is right. Have the girls do this next part or something: I would like you to go on my Account and write in under my bio that I would prefer everyone sign up for and use the Dear Elder sight to write me. I've had a couple friends do that, and it's really convenient for both of us :) Also I would ask that my family (you) also use the Dear Elder sight to write me, and of course I will respond via email.
The address my facebook should say is:
Elder Jared Richard Tate
MTC Mailbox # 115
TAIW-TCG 0210
2005 N 900 E
Provo, UT 84604-1793.
And dont forget the dear elder thing. Thank you for everything you have taught me, and the various ways you supppoort me. Love all of you :)
-Elder Tate or now I'm actually called tang zhanglao :)

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Fare thee well, Jared and God Speed.






Adam came Friday at noon, Bethany and Sterling at five. They came to be with Jared, but Jared had a continual farewell party that lasted for weeks and built to a crescendo over the weekend. Thirty people for brunch on Sunday. Twenty four friends to church and only 4 were actual Mormons (and only four were boys.) His friends sat shoulder to hip without wiggle room between them. I’m told the many of the girls cried, but I couldn’t see them past my own tears.

A brand new deacon, age 12 and about 2 months, gave a general conference worthy talk on the snares of pornography. He spoke clearly and only occasionally looked up from his paper. He wasn’t embarrassed about his topic or his message, he seemed completely sincere, and I couldn’t help wondering what Jared’s friends thought. And then the bishop’s wife spoke on how the Book of Mormon and the bible complement each other and how both came to earth through tremendous sacrifice. Again, I wondered about Jared’s friends and how many of them would go home and try reading the Book of Mormon. She was followed by a young, handsome, articulate man who had been baptized the night before and bore his testimony about his conversion. And then a nine year old girl sang The Armies of Helamen – so sweet.

Finally, Jared spoke on the Doctrine of Christ; faith, repentance, baptism, the Holy Ghost and enduring to the end. After the meeting, Jared and his friends congregated and I went to primary.

Primary is the perfect place for me. I can sit behind the piano and cry and only a few notice. Because I’ve been playing for primary since I was 13, I can play through my tears. Because the room is filled with little kids, somebody is sure to say something funny and adorable. Every once and awhile, I’ll remember that my children were once darling, and I’ll miss the people that they used to be and the lives we lived together, and I’ll start to cry again and I’ll remember to be grateful for pianos, for my Heavenly Father who called me to sit behind one, and for the amazing people my children have become.

Sunday, November 7, 2010

Beyond the Fortune Teller's Tent

CHAPTER 1
In Elizabethan England every town square came equipped with stocks and pillory and every castle had a torture chamber. Not that Petra seriously considered stringing Zoe up in a dungeon, but the stocks she could have used.

“I saw Mylan Reynolds near the corral,” Zoe said, calculation lacing her squeaky voice. “Looking all smarmy and swagger in those stupid glasses he wears.”

These torturous thoughts were her parents fault, of course. Petra would never have included Zoe in a sentence with a rack of pain or thumbscrews if the seven year old stepsister from Hades hadn’t interfered with her Mylan time at the faire.

Robyn raised her eyebrows but Petra shook her head and Robyn dutifully pressed her lips together. Petra and Robyn called themselves tella-buddies, because they could read each other’s thoughts. Robyn cocked her head, which meant, we should at least look.

Sighing, Petra took Zoe’s hand and gazed up and down the dusty tent lined streets. She saw women wearing laced up bodices, men in tights and knee high boots, horses covered in bright cloths, even a snowy white owl on a perch, but not Mylan.

As they wandered the sawdust strewn paths of the Arroyo Oaks High School annual Renaissance Faire, Petra straightened her tiara. She and Robyn were the only two dressed as princesses. Even Zoe in her cut up pillowcase and drapery tassel belt fit in better with the faire crowd. Dust gathered on the hem of Petra’s baby blue gown and she had to hold her skirts to keep them from being trampled by the other fair goers. Children in makeshift tunics and tights pushed from one booth to the other like an erratic tide while Zoe bobbed, her hand tucked into Petra’s, like a balloon trying to escape a string. Petra wondered what would happen if she let her go.
Zoe cast the funnel cake stand a soulful look as they trooped past to the horse corral.

From the stands surrounding the jousting arena came the cheering and huzzahs of the crowd. Petra heard the horses’ hooves thundering and the clanging of lances hitting shields and armor. She smelled the odors of roasted turkey legs, the fires from the pottery kilns and dung. She did not see Mylan.

Robyn stopped in front of the corral. “Giddy-up,” she said, her gaze riveted on the guy leading a horse. He had brown shoulder length hair tied back with a leather thong and wore soft, fawn colored breeches and knee high boots of the same color. His white shirt billowed around a wide leather belt that hung about his hips. Three simultaneous thoughts struck Petra with equal force. The first: everyone else, including herself, wore costumes, but this guy looked at ease, at home, in the breeches and boots. The second: as their eyes met and held and a small smile curved his generous lips, was that although she knew they’d never met, an immediate recognition jolted her. The third: she was quite sure this guy could never be told what color his vest needed to be.

“Isn’t he awesome,” Zoe breathed. “He’s so huge.”

Robyn gave Zoe a funny look and Petra laughed, shaking her head as she watched the Arabian toss his mane and pull at the reins held by the guy with long brown hair. The stallion fought the bit, rose up on his hind legs and scissored the air with lightning speed hooves. “You can’t ride him,” she said. “He’s not one of the ponies they lead through rink.”

Zoe turned down her lips, sending her freckles south. “I’m sure he’d rather be with me on the trail than in that silly jousting place.” Moments ago they’d tried watching the jousting competitions, but Zoe, unconcerned for the knights being thwacked about by lances, had wailed in concern for the sweat dripping horses.

“I’m sure you’re right, Zo, but I’m pretty sure I’m right, too,” Petra said. “They’d never let you take him out of their sight. Besides, he looks fast, barely tame.”

“I like them fast and barely tame,” Robyn said under her breath, smoothing down the pink chiffon skirt of her prom dress.

Petra grabbed Robyn’s arm and Zoe’s hand to lead them away, but as she did, the guy with the horse caught her eye and winked.

Puzzled by the zinging up her spine and the skin-pricking sensation of deja vu, Petra turned away and shepherded her sister and friend back to the fortune teller’s booth.

“Just sit.” Petra scowled at Zoe, sending a facial warning not to budge and pointed at a well placed stump. She wished for perhaps the zillionth time that Zoe would take lessons from Frosty, her standard poodle. Frosty greeted all instructions with a lolling tongue and wagging tail.

Zoe received instructions with a stamping of her pink tasseled flip flop, a jutted chin, and a threat. “If you leave me here --”

Petra silenced her by holding up a finger. “If you can be quiet, sit here and not say a word, I’ll buy you a funnel cake.” She raised her eyebrows to see if Zoe would take the bribe or would if she needed to up the ante. Having lived for nearly sixteen years as an only child, Petra was just beginning to learn the art of sibling manipulation. She knew that Zoe, who had lived seven years as an only child, had been raised by a health food nut single mom who’d managed a shoe string budget and a dance studio. Laurel hadn’t money for brand name raisin bran, let alone funnel cakes. Years of lean frugality coupled with an abundance of soy based food products had made Zoe a sucker for sweets.

She put her hands on her hips and addressed Zoe in the same tone she usually reserved for Frosty. “If anyone bugs you, just call a yellow jacket.” Arroyo Oaks High School had its own sentinels: trollish security guards riding golf carts and carrying blow horns that blasted at any hapless soul engaged in unseemly behavior, such as walking through flower beds or taking short cuts through the staff parking lot.

Zoe sat with a humph and picked at the hem of her pillowcase tunic.

“Sit, be quiet and a funnel cake will soon be yours,” Petra promised.

Zoe looked up at her, smiled and said in voice as sweet as a funnel cake, “I want to ride that horse.”

Petra exhaled. “I can’t promise you a ride on that horse!”

Zoe’s gaze cut to the corral and lingered on the stallion. “But, you can ask.”

Robyn nodded in agreement, a flirty smile on her lips. “We can ask.”

Petra shot her look that said, traitor.

“Horse guy with hotitude,” Robyn mouthed at her over Zoe’s head, while she shot a wide eyed smile at the corral and flipped her brown curls over her shoulder. Robyn had a puppy dog cuteness that always reminded Petra of a brown eyed, curly haired spaniel.

“And offer him money,” Zoe put in. Covered in freckles, cursed with orange hair, Zoe wasn’t puppy dog cute or even lizard interesting. She was more rodent cunning and conniving.

“How much money?” Petra nearly growled. Since Laurel’s arrival she’d been given an allowance “to help her find her own financial feet in the real world.” Petra’s real world wouldn’t begin until after college and until then she hadn’t any misgivings of standing on and sharing her father’s financial feet with her friends. He had very big feet and an equally sized wallet.

Laurel, on the other hand, wore size six fitness footwear and she wasn’t any more generous with Zoe than she was with Petra. She was unselectively stingy.

“I saw him wink at you.” Zoe looked scheming, and for a moment Petra imagined she saw the future Zoe business shark. If Zoe had been a cartoon character she’d have dollar signs flashing in her eyes. “Maybe you wouldn’t need to pay him.”

“We’ll ask him right after we visit the fortune teller,” Robyn promised Zoe, sending a pleased to meet you smile at horse guy.

Zoe looked cross, folded her arms and watched the horses parading in the corral.

Convinced that Zoe would stay parked, Petra took Robyn’s hand and pulled her to the tent and out of Zoe’s earshot. The tent, held up by large wooden poles had brightly woven damask walls. A bare-chested man wearing a red pair of what could only be called pantaloons and nothing else besides gold chains and large rings guarded a money jar. A hand printed sign propped by the jar read Fiorella Foretells your Fate.

“It’s after two,” Petra whispered. “Let’s just go and chat up Fiorella.”

“I think the fortune teller’s tent is romantic,” Robyn said, defending tardy Mylan.

“He’s not here,” Petra said, pushing her towards the gaudy tent and Fiorella.

“Yet,” Robyn added.

The frustration of denail settled between Petra’s shoulder blades like an unreachable itch. She was used to getting what she wanted when she wanted it and the prom was only three weeks away. She had assumed Mylan would ask her; they’d been going out since Valentine’s Day. He needed to answer some questions. Could he find a vest to match her shoes? Was he willing to pay for his share of the limousine and for the price of the ticket -- and dinner, too, of course? She now had more questions, and although she didn’t believe in fortunes, fate or fairy tales, it never hurt to ask.

“But, what if he doesn’t come inside?” Robyn asked. “He could be standing out here for eons while some old hag predicts I don’t get into a good school and I end up selling shoes for the rest of my life.”

“You love shoes.”

“And you love Mylan, right?”

Petra didn’t answer but she wondered, not for the first time, why Robyn always seemed to be in Mylan’s orbit. If Robyn hadn’t been her best friend, her tele-buddy, she might have worried. Some girls dissolved into giggles and gush around Mylan. Petra liked to think that he’d been attracted to her because she didn’t succumb to his hotitude. She didn’t sigh or melt, but she’d grown tired of waiting for Mylan. He’d had every opportunity to ask. All of her friends had been asked days, even weeks, ago.

She stood on her toes, searching. Beyond the gaudy tents, jousters, and court jesters, she saw the white steeple of the church she attended with her family pointing heavenward, the gates of Bear Ranch, an enclave of California’s wealthiest, patrolled by security guards who were polite to residents, but fierce to intruders, and the yellow jackets zipping around in their golf carts, yelling at the clueless who dared to tread in the teacher’s parking lot. She did not see Mylan.

But as she pushed back the curtains of the fortune teller’s tent, Petra was no longer thinking of Mylan and the prom.

Her thoughts had turned to a stallion and the guy who held the reins.