7-22-09 "Texas Welcomes Sister Whitney Sorensen"

Howdy, y'all! I AM in Texas! 12 missionaries left the MTC on Wednesday morning promptly at 6, bound for Houston. 9 elders, 3 sisters, 5 Spanish-speaking, 7 English. The flight was smooth, although the plane was tiny, only four seats per row. There greeting us at the airport were President and Sister Hansen and the two Assistants to the President, Elder Beck (actually a BYU football player, no relation to former QB John, although Elder Beck himself doesn't brag about it) and Elder Nelson. Any and all butterflies flying around my stomach vanished when I saw their smiling faces. The heat and humidity hit us as we left the airport for the outside world, catching glimpses of downtown Houston which is just beneath the mission's southern boundary. I'll tell you right now, it is hot and humid here, but I think everyone has been talking it up so much that I was expecting it to be so much hotter, so it's not a big problem so far. Plus, they said they've been having a drought accompanied by a heat wave, but where I am they've started having rain off and on. My companion thinks I brought the rain from Utah. I almost agree, except that it hadn't rained in Utah for like two and a half weeks when I left. Anyway, from the airport we went straight to the mission home for brief orientation, paperwork, greetings from the senior missionaries who work in the office, and individual meetings with President Hansen. That took until dinner time, when we had an excellent feast prepared by the office ladies: barbequed Texas brisket; salads green, potato, and fruit; and, for dessert, Texas sheet cake and famous Blue Bell ice cream, made in a factory a few hours north of Houston in a small town called Brenham. All this time we're mixing and mingling with the training sisters and elders, wondering who we'll be paired up with. After dinner, the elders left to tract and the sisters went to the Hansens home. President Hansen felt it was too late at night for us to tract, so he revealed our companions and set us to weekly planning. My companion is Sister Caitlyn Davis from Eagle, ID. (Do we know anyone from there? She keeps asking, and I can't think that we do.) She has been on her mission since March, so this is only her third transfer, but she knows how to work hard and we get along great. She's tidy and on-time, two things that alleviate a lot of stress, and has no weird quirks. Also, she doesn't constantly try to slide down bannisters or tell potty jokes at dinner. A lady. (I don't say any of that to put down Sister Hoskins, because we learned to get along as well, but it's nice to have a stronger sense of friendship and unity from the start.) Thursday morning, we awoke to a breakfast of French toast, sausage and bacon, orange juice, and fruit salad, prepared by Elder and Sister Chesnut, senior missionaries who work with the cars and in the mission office. We also took pictures with the group of missionaries and the Hansens. They should be sending you a photo of the three of us (me, President Hansen, and Sister Hansen). Look for it. I'm the one who looks like me. Then President Hansen announced companionships, and the whole group headed for a session at the Houston temple. It is as beautiful as everyone says it is. It looks a little bit like old European architecture to me, with elegant symmetry and geometry. Look it up, because I'm not doing a very good job of describing it. The inside is just as beautiful, with classic, simple white flowers painted around some of the upper molding. That was such a special treat, to gain that strength from the temple before embarking on this big spiritual adventure. After the temple, it was on to our areas. Sister Davis and I were riding in the van driven by the assistants. We first dropped off a set of Spanish-speaking elders in Conroe, then another set of English-speaking elders in The Woodlands. By the way, when they say "The Woodlands," they're not kidding. There are trees everywhere here. Anne Shirley Blythe would love it. It looks like a combination of an Amazon forest and a hand-planned subdivision: organized chaos. Whenever I heard The Woodlands before, I pictured something like home; the only trees are the ones bought and planted, but most of these are just natural. Oh, and I forgot to mention that on the way from the temple I saw a ritzy neighborhood called "Wimbledon Champions." I'm fairly certain the conquering Swede doesn't live there, however. Sigh. Finally, we took the two hour trip towards my first area: College Station, home of the Texas A&M Aggies and the proudest college football fans in America, at least according to a couple we met this weekend at a church function. A wedding actually, but I might not get to that story in this e-mail, so expect details in a letter. Also at the wedding, I met a Sister Lee, formerly from Idaho Falls. Yes, Cassidy, she is your friend Amanda Lee's mother. I'm surprised I remembered that name, but I must have been assisted by a higher power. And while I'm on the subject of weird coincidences, I might as well tell you that I had the weirdest one so far last night. Sister Davis and I had a teaching appointment in a little town outside of College Station called Snook. Basically a farming community where a nine-year-old recent convert lives with her aunt who is a member. Driving us to this appointment were Brother and Sister Cluff, parents of fourteen children, all of whom are grown and whose youngest son is on a mission in Spokane. They were married in the Idaho Falls Temple, so they were playing the "Do we know who you know" game. Eventually I told them mom's maiden name, and then Sister Cluff randomly asked me, "Do you know a Roger McClellan?" I said yes, and from the back seat of the truck, I could see her face get this strange, half-displeased expression on it. I asked how they knew him, but they gave me some vague, evasive response about Primary Children's hospital. The conversation changed, we reached our appointment, Sister Davis was teaching and I was listening. She asked Sister Cluff to say something. I was looking straight ahead, not at Sister Cluff, and when I heard her voice, I realized EXACTLY why she knew Roger. She has to be Dana's sister. They have the same voice. You know, that low, slow, nearly monotone but still able to express emotion voice. And then I looked at her and they have the same face basically. I didn't bring it up again, and they were perfectly nice, but for a few moments I was sure they would hate me because I was on the other side of their family. Okay, time is running out, so for now I'll just let you know that I love College Station so far. We have two great sets of elders in our district. Sister Davis and I have a car to drive around because President Hansen wants me to avoid biking. We went to a nursing home and played Bingo on Saturday. That's a Southern tradition that I'm sure will make it into one of my stories one day. We've been tracting a few times and made two appointments, one of which fell through, but the other is tonight, so pray that we'll meet with Judy tonight. Last night our member dinner appointment fed us sausage manicotti, which reminded me of home but only in good ways. No homesickness yet. Our ward is great, gung-ho on missionary work, particularly the new ward mission leader. His name is Brother McCoy, but he tells everyone, "Call me Cameron." Remember, I'll write more in a letter, so this isn't all by any means. I still have a few MTC days to report on and more to say about College Station, the people we're teaching, and the elders in our district.
Love, Sister Whitney Sorensen
P.S. People really do have accents here, or use "y'all" at the very least. I can already tell that Sister Davis is picking up somewhat of an accent, so it's only a matter of time before I do, too.