Last Sunday, we visited a family in our ward who used to live in Canada. The son said that the food he missed the most was Chicken Pot Pie. Somehow in the process of the conversation, my companion Sister Painter and I agreed to come over on Saturday and make chicken pot pie. Secret: I hate chicken pot pie. I know it’s delicious and a classic, but there’s just something about it that gets me. So on Monday, I emailed my mom for a recipe. When we showed up Saturday night, the mom had everything ready to go, she’d even roasted vegetables and chicken and made her own broth! I’m not sure how…but a miracle happened and we had DELICIOUS chicken Pot Pie for dinner! I’ve made fruit pies before, but I’ve never watched anyone make a chicken pot pie before…so my companion and I were just flying by the seat of our pants! We were working without shortening, a pastry blender, a decent rolling pin, or MEASURING CUPS! Seriously, miracles happen. That kid was one happy teenager. And all the American missionaries, even my companion who goes home next month, were all in American Food Heaven.
This week, I sang on a bus…with an old man and his wife. Seriously, I’ll do anything to get people to listen to my message. Actually, I’m not quite to the daring and all-encompassing level of “do anything,” but I’m close. We started talking to this couple while waiting for a bus (normal) and found out that he had met missionaries before and had a Book of Mormon at his house (not terribly abnormal). We went pretty in depth about our message, but the conversation kind of died out of their lack of interest before we got on the bus (totally normal). While being slung around on the bus, a seat opened up next to them, and they invited me to sit down. They couldn’t remember my name so he just shouted, “Hey, Tennessee living person! Sit!” It was in Korean, the translation doesn’t quite work in English. Anyway, so as I sat I got to learn all about them and they all about me! Somehow we got on the topic of Korean folk music and I told them that I knew one song called “Ah ree rang” and he looked at me with big sad eyes and told me that was SUCH a sad song! So naturally, we started singing it from the back of the bus, me and this maybe 55 year old man. It was totally epic.
Sometimes, I forget that I have more talents than talking and playing horn, so it was exciting this week to be able to use my other talents to bring joy and happiness to people here in Daejeon! Actually, my ability to converse in English is slowly diminishing. My companion told me that last week when I got here I never used “the” or “a” when I talked. I just left them out as if I were Korean and English was a second language I was learning. Rough. Living in a four person house with two other Americans and a Korean who’s perfectly fluent in English has helped me remember English grammar…Though, I wouldn’t mind coming back in a year speaking in broken English. That’d be kind of fun! We’ll see!
Until next week!