Silence is GOLDEN - March 31st, 2010

This week I have fallen in love with silence and Italians.

I absolutely love serving with Sister Casalingo. We walked for about 30 minutes in silence the other day trying to find an apartment of a member. First we had to walk along a river , cross over a bridge, then through the most beautiful neighborhood ever and I got to just look around and enjoy the beautiful Spring weather, look at the neat old Italian buildings, etc. and not have to worry about entertaining or listening. Then, when someone walked by with their dog, neither of us were distracted and we both knew that we both wanted to talk to her. Being with Sister Casalingo this week has reminded me about the comment that Dave made when the Prez was over at our house to set me apart. He said the companion that he loved serving with the most was the one who he could tell really wanted to be there on the mission and reallly loved doing the work. Sister Casalingo may not talk a lot but she is also ridiculously focused on the work (but in a calm way that doesn't make anything stressful), super humble, and never has wierdo emotional problems that come from thinking too much about yourself. Plus, I asked her the first day if we could speak only in Italian and she has been super dedicated to that and it has helped my Italian so much just in this one week.

The best part is that since she doesn't talk much, when she does talk the things she says are soo so memorable. Both in lessons and just in the apartment. For example...instead of trying to say something enticing when a person opens the door when we are doing casa she just says, "Hi, I'm Sister Casalingo, can I come in for 5 minutes." And when she does invites to people on the metro or park or whatever I can see her working on building up the courage, slowly sneaking out a pass along card, then she pounces,and just says "Hi, I'm Sister Casalingo, I want to invite you to church." At first I thought for sure no one would respond well. But who am I to judge? In the scriptures we learned that anyone with desires to do the work is called to the work. I've found by watching her, that if a person really does have interest, really is being prepared, it doesn't matter how awkwardly we approach them. Well, to some extent...

Anyway, on to why I love Italians. Mostly I love them because I have started talking to them more and more instead of following the normal missionary trend of picking the foreigners to talk to. Also because they do what they say they are going to do and tell you they won't do something if they really don't want to. They really do call you when they are interested. Plus, they are hilarious. I think I am just discovering this recently because I am understanding more of what they are saying these days. Also, they love being in the mountains and being active...automatic bonding points.

A few highlights of awesome Italians I met this week...
- Francesco: A super sporty, young dad at the park with his daughter who had his dog tied up to the sign that said no dogs at the park. Later on in our convo he admitted that he switches sides of the roads whenever he sees the Elders. I died laughing and burst his bubble, explaining that he is not as smooth as he thinks he is and we definitely notice everytime someone tries to dodge us.
- The old crippled man who walked by in the park while we were talking to a woman with a baby and shouted something like "they're the Mormons!" I shouted hi and invited him to come join the chat. We asked him what he knew about us and he rambled on about how kind and well dressed the missionaries that he talked to for 30 seconds like 60 years ago were.
- The woman who swung open her door when we knocked, shouted hello, gave me bacci (the kisses on the cheeks), then took a step back and realized that I was not the person she was expecting...mumbled something like "who are you, no, you like like..." then slammed the door and double locked it.
- Tomas: A short Italian man, in his 50s, standing right in front of me on the bus. I was looking around the bus for someone to talk to and almost missed him. Then I heard him say something like "I'm reading your tag." We had like a 30 second conversation then he had to get off so I gave him a card. He called us a few hours later and asked if he could come to church. The next day he took the hour long trip to get to our church from his house and was early.
- The old men sitting in the park that we talked to about bocci ball, then the church. We said a prayer with them at the end of the "lesson." The one saw me bowing my head and closing my eyes so he asked if he needed to do that. I said sure. Then at the end of the prayer he shouts out to his friend "Pascuale you are such a faker! I saw you with your eyes open!"

Well, as you can see, all is well here in Milan. I have had about 10 million other tender, funny, exciting, humbling, etc. moments this week that I wish I could share with you but the time is too short and I'm sure your attention span also.

Much love,
L