Rice, Beans, and a Priesthood Blessing

Well, after two weeks of rice, beans, chicken, fried platanos, and coca-cola, yours truly is still alive. Turns out that the Nica diet, as boring as it may be, is sustainable! And at least none of it grossed me out. As much as I'd love to talk more about life as a missionary in Nicaragua, I think it will be of more worth to talk about the work.

We generally have no problems finding people to talk to. Honestly, about one out of every 10 houses will let us come in and spend 45 minutes talking about the restoration. Unfortunately, a second visit is an entirely different matter that has proven exceedingly difficult. My favorite investigator has been a young mother named Mercedes. When we knocked on her door, she let us in and said she had a sister that had joined the church and was honestly a little interested to hear our message. We had a beautiful meeting with her, and planned a return visit. When we returned, she was actually home (what?) and jubilantly let us enter (what? what?). She said she had been up all night with her daughter who was sick and she asked us if we would pray with her for her daughter. My companion quickly explained that the same healing power that existed in Christs time had been restored and that we had the keys to perform the same blessing and by her faith, her daughter could be healed. He proceeded to explain how a priesthood blessing for the sick and afflicted worked, and together we gave one to her daughter. The spirit was so strong, and I hope she can see a miracle, and maybe from that, investigate our church more sincerely. We will see when we visit her tomorrow.

Just one more quick story: We went out with a young man in our ward named Kenneth (it's weird, most Nicaraguans have the most American names pronounced in the funniest ways). He is currently called as a ward missionary, and is awaiting his own mission call. He knew of an ex-investigator and we went together to visit her. We had a great lesson, but of course she wasn't home for the follow up visit, nor did we see her at church as she promised we would. The cool thing is, after the lesson, Kenneth said something like, "What the heck Watts, you spoke perfect Spanish in there." I responded simply with, "Solo puedo hablar Español cuando siento el Espíritu." I can only speak Spanish when I'm feeling the Spirit. How true that has been, every time we've taught a lesson, I've had no problem keeping up with the conversation. Even when we were teaching an elderly Nicaraguan, that talked fast, and had no teeth, I could hear the spirit whispering in my ear exactly what he was saying, and I've always had just enough Spanish in my back pocket to say what needs to be said.

I love you all!

Elder Stephen Watts

P.S. Here's how addresses work here. Like people put this on official documents.
Arriba- Up the hill- East
Abajo- Down the hill- West
A Lago- Toward the Lake- North
A Sur- South
Note: Arriba, Abajo, and A Lago switch meanings depending on what city, but that's how it is here in Sandino.
Here's how it works: Pick a landmark, legit someone once said, desde el gran arbol (from the big tree). Then explain how many blocks in each direction you need to go. When you get to your street and your block, you say medio cuadras (half a block) and specify the color of your house.
If I was to give the address for our home it would be something like this:
From the intersection of I-80 and 4th street, two blocks toward the lake, one block North, half a block downhill. White House.