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 so? Because if not, I don´t want to fix the toilet that with the surfboard seat and inability to flush, nor do I want to patch the entire section of roof that is leaking. Yet more often than not, this is the case. It´s nice to know some problems are international, because our Landlord here apparently never answers his phone, and our shower is leaking incessantly and apparently, it is showering down on the people who live below us as well. Our downstairs neighbor mentioned we should get if fixed, and when I, in a slightly indignant manner said that that really is the responsibility of the Landlord, she said, "maybe so, but he´s sitting high and comfy in his house and we´re the ones suffering. Fix it, and hit him where it hurts, out of the rent payment. If you don´t pay at all, I´m sure he´ll make his way over here somehow."
She has a point. The problem is, we don´t pay our rent; the mission does. And the mission hasn´t been able to get a hold of this guy either and they have other houses to deal with as well. So, to all you Dark, insidious Lords out there posing as homeowners with benefits, I say to you, don´t rent out your home if you are: a. Cheap b. Lazy c. Cheap and Lazy. Be responsible! Responsibility is one of those things that everyone wants to give and no one wants to take. But I will serve the Dark Lord no more. I have high hopes to own my own dwellings when I get home. But I won´t look too far into the future, lest I loose my grip on the here and now.
Because presently, I have important things to do! Like finally cut my hair. It is time. A year later, and it be looking sad. It needs to be sharp and sassy again. I just hope this lady, Consuelo, knows what she´s doing. She´s a member of the church, and owns her own salon and is apparently and expert with short hair styles. I can´t tell if she wears a wig or not, but she seems to be well put together, so I will judge this book by her cover and hope she can do the same for me. And out here in the jungle, besides the good Lord himself, who am I really trying to impress? But really, if it looks bad, I´ll just form my own wig from all the hair the Latins I live with brush out every day. I swear, they all have the EXACT same, thick, luxurious, long black hair. So good cut, I´m in luck. Bad cut, good wig. It´s really a win-wig. I mean, win-win.
But since the Latins are unintentionally giving me all their hair, the least I could do was pay them back. There is a saying that goes something like this: Give a Latin a S´more and their happy for a day. Teach them how to make a s´more, and they´re happy for life. So I followed that saying, and taught all my Latin roommates to make s´mores. It was my own personal way of celebrating the 4th of July. Sadly though, one s´more eater is no longer with us. Yes, sadly, Hermana Beltre, the one from La Yuca, went home due to Anemia problems. In her place, we now have Hermana Gomes. She´s one of those girls who´s a combination of really attractive and really nice so that you´re not quite sure what to do with them. Once I learned we both have a passion for talking about delicious food, though, it became easier to figure out.
Though speaking of delicious foods, I am trying not to be a giant, Capital-living glutton. I teach people about the 10th commandment constantly, and yet, I myself am covetous. One of my roommates eats brownies for breakfast, and doesn´t gain a pound. I ponder eating a candy bar and suddenly my skirt feels tighter. It´s an unfair world. But I can´t do anything about the fact that some people can eat whatever the heck they want and apparently not suffer any unfortunate consequences. I can manage my own food intake, however, and not worry about what other people look like. So I´m taking down my goody gobbling to every three days and bidding the soda fountain adieu. I do believe I feel a little lighter of step already. I do feel better when I eat better, and when I feel better, the whole world stops and stares for awhile. But that could just be because I am a Rubia americana...
And in other news, we have a baptism this Saturday with a young gent named Carlos. He doesn´t love to read is a bit of a class clown, but he knows all the answers to the lessons, and is what you would call a miembro seco, or someone who goes to church and lives the lifestyle without being baptized. But he´s ready now, and I´m tickled pink to be a part of it. It´s amazing how awkward teens can get when you talk to them about the Law of Chastity though. Maybe it´s an inheritance from my mother, but talking about sexual purity is not really that embarrassing for me. No sex before marriage. Nor porn. Good thoughts. It´s pretty straightforward. But it´s not something most people sit around and talk about everyday, so I understand the discomfort. It´s not like it´s a subject that´s constantly being shoved in our faces in the form of songs and movies and jokes or anything...
And to end, I feel like I must share a paradox of serving in a certain area in the mission. Normally, most people know where certain major streets and areas are within the city where they live, but they couldn´t necessarily tell you the intricacies of every alleyway or where smaller streets and courts are. I, on the other hand, know very well every little cranny and nook of my area, but in relation to the city as a whole, I could have less of a clue where I am. I see big buildings in the distance and just know that part is out of my area and I don´t need to go there. Someday, I´ll come back here and be amazed to see where things REALLY are in relation to where I´m working. But for now, it remains an unattainable mystery.
And to that end, I am through with all of you. I will pick up where I didn´t start next time. And in 6 months or so, we can all get together and have a good old-fashioned uprising against all the dark lords. Because the fight between good and evil is just never finished.
Courageously yours,
Hermana Sweeney
She has a point. The problem is, we don´t pay our rent; the mission does. And the mission hasn´t been able to get a hold of this guy either and they have other houses to deal with as well. So, to all you Dark, insidious Lords out there posing as homeowners with benefits, I say to you, don´t rent out your home if you are: a. Cheap b. Lazy c. Cheap and Lazy. Be responsible! Responsibility is one of those things that everyone wants to give and no one wants to take. But I will serve the Dark Lord no more. I have high hopes to own my own dwellings when I get home. But I won´t look too far into the future, lest I loose my grip on the here and now.
Because presently, I have important things to do! Like finally cut my hair. It is time. A year later, and it be looking sad. It needs to be sharp and sassy again. I just hope this lady, Consuelo, knows what she´s doing. She´s a member of the church, and owns her own salon and is apparently and expert with short hair styles. I can´t tell if she wears a wig or not, but she seems to be well put together, so I will judge this book by her cover and hope she can do the same for me. And out here in the jungle, besides the good Lord himself, who am I really trying to impress? But really, if it looks bad, I´ll just form my own wig from all the hair the Latins I live with brush out every day. I swear, they all have the EXACT same, thick, luxurious, long black hair. So good cut, I´m in luck. Bad cut, good wig. It´s really a win-wig. I mean, win-win.
But since the Latins are unintentionally giving me all their hair, the least I could do was pay them back. There is a saying that goes something like this: Give a Latin a S´more and their happy for a day. Teach them how to make a s´more, and they´re happy for life. So I followed that saying, and taught all my Latin roommates to make s´mores. It was my own personal way of celebrating the 4th of July. Sadly though, one s´more eater is no longer with us. Yes, sadly, Hermana Beltre, the one from La Yuca, went home due to Anemia problems. In her place, we now have Hermana Gomes. She´s one of those girls who´s a combination of really attractive and really nice so that you´re not quite sure what to do with them. Once I learned we both have a passion for talking about delicious food, though, it became easier to figure out.
Though speaking of delicious foods, I am trying not to be a giant, Capital-living glutton. I teach people about the 10th commandment constantly, and yet, I myself am covetous. One of my roommates eats brownies for breakfast, and doesn´t gain a pound. I ponder eating a candy bar and suddenly my skirt feels tighter. It´s an unfair world. But I can´t do anything about the fact that some people can eat whatever the heck they want and apparently not suffer any unfortunate consequences. I can manage my own food intake, however, and not worry about what other people look like. So I´m taking down my goody gobbling to every three days and bidding the soda fountain adieu. I do believe I feel a little lighter of step already. I do feel better when I eat better, and when I feel better, the whole world stops and stares for awhile. But that could just be because I am a Rubia americana...
And in other news, we have a baptism this Saturday with a young gent named Carlos. He doesn´t love to read is a bit of a class clown, but he knows all the answers to the lessons, and is what you would call a miembro seco, or someone who goes to church and lives the lifestyle without being baptized. But he´s ready now, and I´m tickled pink to be a part of it. It´s amazing how awkward teens can get when you talk to them about the Law of Chastity though. Maybe it´s an inheritance from my mother, but talking about sexual purity is not really that embarrassing for me. No sex before marriage. Nor porn. Good thoughts. It´s pretty straightforward. But it´s not something most people sit around and talk about everyday, so I understand the discomfort. It´s not like it´s a subject that´s constantly being shoved in our faces in the form of songs and movies and jokes or anything...
And to end, I feel like I must share a paradox of serving in a certain area in the mission. Normally, most people know where certain major streets and areas are within the city where they live, but they couldn´t necessarily tell you the intricacies of every alleyway or where smaller streets and courts are. I, on the other hand, know very well every little cranny and nook of my area, but in relation to the city as a whole, I could have less of a clue where I am. I see big buildings in the distance and just know that part is out of my area and I don´t need to go there. Someday, I´ll come back here and be amazed to see where things REALLY are in relation to where I´m working. But for now, it remains an unattainable mystery.
And to that end, I am through with all of you. I will pick up where I didn´t start next time. And in 6 months or so, we can all get together and have a good old-fashioned uprising against all the dark lords. Because the fight between good and evil is just never finished.
Courageously yours,
Hermana Sweeney
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