June 6 - Sunday we attended the Mira Flores ward here in Bolivia. I was a little lost during the Relief Society lesson but I know it was something about families and being good parents. Testimony meeting was significantly easier to understand (Yo se… is about all you need to know). Jayson shared some of his thoughts on how it doesn’t matter where you live the church is always the same—with the same principles and doctrines being taught. It really is impressive to see how true that is—it doesn’t matter the language. As to be expected with the Latin culture, everyone was so kind to us at church…people offered us rides home from church, invited us to come over for dinner, to come to their house anytime we want, to teach me more Spanish, etc. Their hospitality is endless.
Monday night we attended family night with Dr. Moya and a bunch of his family. We brought the family we are living with over as well. (Acutally we are living with three different families in one house but they are all related in one way or another). Sandra (the mom) is the only one currently a member right now. Her husband Mauricillo is what Jayson and I call a “dry Mormon”, for some reason of which Jayson and I are unaware he doesn’t smoke or drink, and he is the most kind-hearted man. Jayson taught a lesson on the plan of salvation and then we went into the dining room for tea and treats. It was pretty funny when everyone started passing around this mix that they were adding to their hot water. It looked like coffee and smelled like coffee and Jayson and I were both convinced it really was coffee. Neither Jayson or I were sure what to do without awkwardly bringing it to everyone’s awareness that we didn’t drink coffee in the presence of all these other members of the church. We sat there having this really odd conversation back and forth as we were smelling and trying to read the ingredients on the jar when Dr. Moya overheard us and in front of everyone announced that it was cebada tostada and not coffee. We felt bad questioning in the first place but Jayson and I aren’t quite used to having a hot drink with every meal and it seems you never know exactly what you are getting. As one of the desserts they were passing around this platter with cake. I thought it was banana cake (like banana bread) so I took close to the biggest slice on the platter and these were huge slices. It turns out it was cheese and corn cake. Of all the different things I have tried since being here this definitely has been the most difficult thing I have had to stomach (Daniel, I am sure it could compete with horse hoof gelatin). Apparently Bolivianos love it, I think it is an acquired taste like caviar or sushi. If Jayson had eaten his any faster than I was eating mine I would have passed it over to him but we were both eating it at a rather slow rate with sips of tea between each bite to wash it down. I came home with a rumbly tummy and laid in bed praying my stomach would digest the dessert and trying to find stuff in the kitchen that would help take the taste away. I really can't complain too much, but next time I am taking a smaller piece.
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