Day 39.

I go home and burn two tortillas. The other two are okay. Maria laughs at me. This is the third time in a row that she has witnessed my cooking complications.

I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again. You go to a country and you’re just stupid. It’s not just the language. It’s everything. It’s how you hold the weird shaped tray in the cafeteria at work. It’s opening the cap off the glass Coca Cola bottle. It’s not knowing how hot “1, 2, 3” is on the stove and how that compares to “1-9” in America. It’s wondering how the oven tells you that it’s preheated. It’s putting the coin in the slot to get a shopping cart. It’s looking at the brown sugar that is shaped in tiny balls and looks dry and wondering if that is really brown sugar. It’s not knowing how to get out of the grocery store without buying anything.

And you just have to tell yourself, no, you are not stupid. You’re just… at the level of a German four-year-old, that’s all…

I tell Spencer that every day there’s an embarrassing moment.

“Everyone has embarrassing moments every day.”

BULL!

After my tortilla burning extravaganza, the sister missionaries come over. Sister Rimmasch sees my spiral staircase.

“Noooo way! You need to wrap Christmas lights around the rails!” She runs up them. Sister Veselka and I follow her up. She asks where my room is. I point to the open door.

“Nooo way!” she says again. “You have a balcony?” She gallops through my room to the balcony. We all stand and stare downwards until we get vertigo.

We all talk about how cooler these student apartments are compared to student apartments in Utah. I think about my cinderblock apartment. I don’t care if I have a balcony and a spiral staircase. I miss my hutch and coral pillows!

Sister Veselka and I sit on my bed. Sister Rimmasch sits on my study chair. We watch clips of “Work of Salvation,” which I haven’t seen yet. When they leave, I watch the first hour of it. Sometime this weekend I will watch the rest. Elder Holland is charming. So is our wonderful prophet, President Monson.

I miss sleepovers and girl nights. 

I want the sisters to come back and be my permanent personal friends.