A Little Something Sweeney: Family. Friends. Fiction. Food.

Well, here I am, another week wiser. What have I learned? Well, quizás most importantly, how to find my way around my area. As most people who have spent a quality amount of time with me know, I can´t find my way out of a plastic bag. So, the first day I get my new companion, Hma. Rodriguez, I find out that it´s here birthday, with no advance warning. That... sucked. I wanted to make it special, but really, the only thing I could think of was Krispy Kreme . So I got her a tasty donut, and we spent the rest of the day getting failed by all the citas we´d put for the day (failed= how we say people weren´t home, they failed us. Cita is Spanish for appointment. Now you also are a little wiser). "Happy Birthday to yoooooooou......" But don´t worry, the next day, I managed to get us COMPLETELY and rather hopelessly lost while trying to meet up with the Elders in our district so that they could give us some much-needed pass-along cards and booklets about the Restoration of the churc

Short. Sweet. Neither of these concepts applies much to me, but as for my blog today, well, such is the case. It´s the night before transfers and all through the mission, everyone freaks out, as is tradition. I actually am rather pleased with my circumstances; my new companion will be Hermana Rodriguez, who was trained by my trainer, Hermana Brown. In the mission, that makes us sisters. She will be my first Dominican companion. Hermana Lund, my step-mom (second companion), also trained during her last transfer, and her child, Hermana Lopez, is coming here to live in the same house as me and to whitewash Bella Vista. We´ve already lived together, so this should be good. And my Step-son/step-brother who was with me in Azua with Hermana is going to be in my district. Family Reunion y fiesta! I´m pretty excited, but as for being the only one staying in my apartment and area from this last transfer, I have my doubts about getting myself and my comp. around this jungle of a city. Stay tuned

I have lived under their reign for too long, and I am starting to lose my patience. They have little time and even less mercy. They are never there when you need them, and yet they demand payment in full. I am talking, of course, about the Dark Lord, o sea, The Land Lord. I am waiting to meet such a one that is really good at there job, aside from my grandparents. From what I understand, a Land Lord owns a house, rents it out to other inhabitants, and these people upkeep it and care for it. However, if something should break down or bust within said house, it is ultimately the responsibility of the Land Lord to fix it. It´s almost like it´s there job or something. But almost (not every) Land Lord I´ve ever had has become almost offended when I´ve suggested they fix what is out of order. Or the other popular approach is to just ignore my supplications and hope the problem will fix itself, o sea, that I will fix it for them. Does that mean that the house will become my property if I do s

Is it really barbecue and fireworks time already? Didn´t I just get to this country a year ago? (almost). Why yes, yes I did. It´s sorta an out-of-body, o sea, an out-of-country experience not to be in my native land during this great time of partying, er, I mean, patriotism. But this is the last 4th of July I will spend in the D.R. so I might as well live it up. And to do so, I bought the ingredients for smores. True, they will be D.R. smores, but hey, what do you want from me? Complaint of the week: Might as well get it out of the way upfront. Don´t you love how no one has time to write? I do. I love it. I understand too. I mean, I have one hour a week to pump out various emails and a BLOG from the comfort of an Internet café. That is the epitome of no time. Exhibit B. would be that America is now full of phones that come fully equipped with email. Uhhhhhh... you can check facebook and write emails from the bathroom. I am still recovering from my mind being blown. So when