Dear Home,
One more week down, and still loving Galveston. I'm slowly getting used to the area, and I can almost figure out where we are and where we're going, and which way is home without the help of Elder Jones. Oh, Elder Jones. I've learned very quickly over the past few weeks that he loves to try to "pull a fast one" without me realizing it. I told him last week that I used to be an elementary school teacher, that I can smell mischief, and that not many things like that get past me, and he's taken that as a challenge. So far, he's tried several times, and not succeeded once. Muahaha! For example, sometimes he tries to steal and wear my name tag to see how long he can wear it without me noticing. He only succeeded in taking it from my dresser once (I was in the bathroom), but he was wearing it for only a minute or two before I started calling him "Elder Crapo".
I realized I didn't tell you about the bike situation down here. It's kind of funny, actually. If I was originally called to this mission, I would have ordered and payed for a bike before I arrived so I would have one to use once I got here. Being a visa waiter without a bike, in a biking area, made things a bit interesting for a few minutes when we were at the transfer meeting that first day. I didn't have a bike, and I really needed one in order to do anything in Galveston. They had just one "loner" bike that they gave to me, and boy, is that thing old. The break pads are all worn down, so every time I try to stop, it sounds like my kickstand is dragging on the ground. When I try to switch gears, it takes two minutes for it to completely adjust, so that's a lot of fun. It's pretty beat up, too. It has a lot of character, but it gets me from home to Campeche Cove and back in one piece, so I'm not complaining. I also received an ancient helmet that I'm sure was used by the missionaries who first worked in Houston. Every time I strap that helmet to my head, I am wearing a piece of history. No joke. It's super attractive. I actually told Elder Jones that I might as well stick a coconut on my head, and it would serve me just as well.
We have so many fantastic members in our ward. We're not supposed to have favorites, but the Uyaharras (I have no idea how to spell it. It's Japanese. Pronounced yoo-har-ruh.) are soo awesome. Sister Uyaharra is from New Zealand, and her husband is from Japan. They're a little older, and they've traveled all over the world together. They actually knew Steve and Sue when they were living in Germany. I think they were in the same ward or something. That was super fun to find out. They always bring us fruit whenever they go grocery shopping. Brother Uyaharra is always telling us "no scrambled egg sandwiches!" It's funny. They're really sweet and they spoil us.
Then there's Lacrisha. Oh man, she has got some awesome spirit in her, she do. She's a big black lady (she's taller than I am) with two kids, and "she is FABULOUS." She's a recent convert from a southern baptist church. Her testimony is incredible. You take her baptist spunk and add the LDS doctrine, and she just makes you want to stand up and say "Hallelujah!" To the missionaries, she's like our "Big Momma." She's always concerned for us, and she does all she can to help us out. She's got that "I'm a big, strong, independant black woman who don't need no man" attitude. She's awesome.
I'm absolutely loving it here in Galveston, and I was actually thinking the other day, "If I received my visa tomorrow, and had to leave here, I'd be really sad. I'm not ready to leave yet!" Good thing I'm pretty sure I'm sticking around for a little while longer, so I'm not worried. If it's time to go, I'll go. I look forward to hearing from y'all next week. I love you!
-Elder Crapo
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