22 Nov

This is my favorite picture from our omni bus. I look like I am dreaming of that elder. He is one of the elders I wanted to punch in the MTC.

My sombrero!

This is how we make mashed potatoes. We put it outside cuz the natural gas here smells terrible.

A neighborhood.

Gimena, a local 13 year old, freshly baptized. This was in artigas

PS:  I am wearing six sweaters underneath, and that is why I look fat.


Our kitchen in our place in Artigas. The snap case is to discourage cockroaches and to keep our oatmeal safe from billions of little ants. The grey spots on the walls are molded over.

Beba. We had to call these elders to come help us get her to the font. She wanted to do it, she was just scared. She’s now way glad she did it.

Me and my companions in the MTC. The one to the right is the lunatic.

Beba! I love her. She makes 80-something look so good.

Hermana Roach

Birthday party in Artigas. Those candles are what we could consider full-blown 4 of July fireworks in the States. That rad kid in front is Henry Beatamcour. We baptized his brother to the right, Hernan.

This little beauty is the toilet of the south American equivalent of a greyhound bus. And I used it. Don’t tell me I am not hard core.

This was our swamp shortcut where I got that horrible mosquito bite. This is Hna. Villatba.

This is me in the Campo with some trees and a horse.

Me and my comp in pocitos. Behind me is a political rally.

On a member family’s balcony in Pocitos, Montevideo. This was our area. Our beautiful area. And we were totally allowed to go to the beach too, as long as we didn’t swim.

This was a lucky shot in Colonia. Behind is the Rio Negra. On my index finger you can see my nail bruise thing from smashing my finger on someone’s chair in Artigas.

The granddaughter of Beba. Maria Pia or ‘lapia’. She cannot walk but is really cute. And really smart for a five year old.

My last night in Artigas with the Tornato de Santa Rosa. It was a terrifying lightening storm to see in the middle of a field like that.

I do not know this kid’s real name. We always called her Juan Carols. She is pure evil, but really cute about it. Behind is her mom, Zula.


I am giant here. This is the lady who washed, then dried my laundry above a herd of chickens and her kids. These kids never stop running and screaming. This is a normal Uruguayan house. Well, a normal poor house. Which is pretty normal. The taller little girl gave me this bouquet.

This is me studying in my house in Salto.

The baptisms of Ana y Camila, the awesome 13 year olds I told you about. I mostly love this picture because of that toddler in the middle.


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