Sunday, July 7, 2013

July 6, 2013 around noon PST

Date: Sat, 6 Jul 2013 12:59:55 -0600
Subject: Subalo subalo subalo! Jan Pedro directo! Arriba por el parque! Vamos al centro, papi!!!

In case you're curious about the subject line, the people who run the buses say things like that. But really fast. And then they grab you and pull you on the bus (unless you're getting off, in which case they `help` you off). This is all of Honduras, not just SPS, but in San Pedro, they leave off the Ss way more and say them as a jota.  

I wish you all could see what I see here in SPS. It is such a beautiful place. 

 I wish you could understand the beauty of the rapidito buses weaving in and out of heavy traffic, people flying all around as they speed through red lights and traffic signs and go flying around corners, going off the ruta to go pick up a little old lady who can't walk very fast, punching it into reverse to pick up another person when there is clearly not even room for a guinea pig in the bus, and all of this is seen at a nice 90 degree angle, because you're standing, and  you're so tall in comparison to this tiny little bus that not just your neck but your entire back is bent into a right angle against the roof as you hover over the people who are sitting in the moldy ripped seats. 

 I wish you could comprehend the streetful grace of the ayudantes (the guys who `help`people on and off the buses) as they go flying out the open door to punch the time card then come leaping back into the moving bus, as they swing out of the door and whistle to the people, telling them which ruta they drive, as they hand babies and little kids to their parents so the parents can get on or off faster. 

I wish you could walk down the (PAVED! :D) streets and hear the pop of the electrical wire that tops the cement walls as the voltage shorts out and resets the circuits, the clang of the porton as you bang the lock against the heavy metal to let the residents know you want to visit them, the distant shout from inside the house, telling you they're ``not home`` and you should leave and not come back, the loud BANG as a feroucious dog tries to eat you as you walk past, but is stopped by the heavy metal gate between you and him.

I wish you could feel the joy of talking to so very many random people as you stop them on the street, as you sit next to them on the bus, as you walk up to their gate. I wish you could see the change in their eyes from the moment you first say hello to the moment you walk away, wishing them a happy afternoon and telling them you'll see them in a couple of days, the softening of their hard exterior shell as their weary and mistrusting heart begins to let you in.

 I wish you could know the pure happiness of playing real-life Frogger as you cross beneath the shadow of a large and beautiful Catholic church.

I wish you sense the energy as we enter the hospital to try to find out what's wrong with this-or-that missionary, and as our amateur guesses come out exactly right.


I wish you could know how it feels to be a missionary. It is such a beautiful work. 
I wish you could see the change in a person from the first day we meet them to the day they step out of the waters of baptism, clean of their past and excited for their future. I wish you could feel the pride of a 70 year old man, who wasted away a fortune and a lifetime wandering the streets and the back alleys trying to scroung up money for one more drink or one more cigarette, as he fellowships and baptizes his best friend a mere two months after his own baptism. 

I wish you could see the love of a once-hardened rebelious and tough woman as the grace and mercy of years wrinkles her anger and hate into gentleness and kindness. I wish you could see the way she looks at her grandson the moment after she reprimands him, as all of the love and understanding of one who is oh-too-aware of her own imperfections tries to give him a better life.

I wish you could see the humble excitement of a sinner when you tell him there{s yet hope for him, that there is love and mercy and kindness in the world. I wish you could see the look of wonder when you tell him there is a living prophet, and then you hand him the word of that living prophet (conference issue of the Liahona, what a powerful tool). 

I wish you could feel the redemption of a soul as you tell a fallen and forgotten child of God that he will never fall too far, and he will never be forgotten. I wish you could see the way he looks at you, like a friend offering water after years of thirst in an endless drought.

I don't know that you'll ever see these things, and even if you did, I don't know if you would feel the way I feel about them, but know that I am forever changed because of San Pedro Sula, Honduras. I've only been here a week, and already I'm in love with these people. That is the meaning of a mission, to love your eternal brothers and sisters to such an extent that you want nothing less for them than that which God Himself wants for them, to unite your purpose so fully with God's (Moses 1:39) that you simply cannot accept anything other than eternal life.

Here's hoping that you have a beautiful week and that you can see a bit of eternity in the world and the people around you. I love you all so very much. :)


Until next week,

Hermana Maren Bayles

3 Nephi 5:13
 also, the Veirs old blog is

I'm responding to y'alls emails individually (at least a quick couple of lines), but I'll send a bigger email to the main hub (aka dad's email in outlook haha). I'm glad all went well with the move and that things are good down in SoCal. The mission is changing a lot and I love it. Things here are good and I'm loving the life as a missionary. I've met my mission president 3 times now, 2 times for about 5 minutes, one time for about 15. He's a reallly good man and his wife is a great woman. I also got to meet the other president and his wife (because of all this being the nurse business). They{re really great people and they{re going to do amazing things with the east mission, but I have confidence in the fact that my placement in the west mission was inspired; I need this mission presdient. :) President Dester (mi presidente) speaks very decent Spanish and his wife speaks a bit too. They're very excited and very great. Anyway, I hope you have a great day and week (with your new Iphone 5????? hahaha). If you get this right now, I{ll be on the computer for a while b-c we're in the office for pday, so you can send me something back real quick. Love you lots

hna bayles

Houdy Pops!

How's life goin? It sounds like you had a good ol time in California. Dunno if you're still there or if you've gone back home by now, but wherever you are, kiss that good-lookin American soil for me. It's funny how 4th of July in a place like Honduras makes you miss that old red white and blue. hahaha. No worries, I'm not baggie (trunky is I think what they use more in america), I just am learning to appreciate the land of my inheritance, as it were. 

It sounds like L and K's new place will be good. I bet they're excited for a fresh take on things. It's super hard moving a lot (i'm realizing that more and more as I spend more and more time moving every couple of months) but it's always kind of nice having a new place with new faces and new possibilities. 

The work is indeed going well, I am indeed healthy, and I don't know if I could be much happier. It's amazing how things just don{t get you down in the mission. People reject us daily, often to our face. People belittle us, mock us, and make us feel like scum, but somehow I still just love em. Missionaries would be considered clinically crazy if they weren{t called of God to be the way they are. We talk to all sorts of people, we do all sorts of things, and we act all sorts of ways that other people just can't understand or comprehend. I love it so much.

I love you tonsies!


hna Bearchen.

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