Another great exerpt from the thriving socially forward metropolis that is Guatemala City: General Conference was interrupted this last week by the sound of gunshots.
On a lighter note, I was sitting in the cafeteria with some friends and my companion when a problem arose. My companion needed butter but didn´t know the Spanish word for butter and all of our cafeteria ladies live here. So, he asked my what the Spanish word for butter is and me, knowing it be mantaquilla, lied to him telling him it was spelled the same way but that there was an accent mark over the ú and the é. So, búttér. He´s not very good at Spanish. So he goes up the ladies and literally asks, ´´Tiene mas búttér?´´ Honestly probably one of the funniest conversations I´ve ever seen in my life. As you can imagine, he wasn´t too happy with us when he came back red in the face.
Also every bathroom in Guatemala makes me want to die. I don´t know how every single bathroom in the whole country can smell as bad as they do. Oh and I picked up the piano. No big deal. It only took me a few hours. Some people here claim I´m the next Bach or Beethoven. Who would of thought anyone would ever say that about anyone in our family, right?
Two more weeks until I leave the MTC. I´ll post my new address next week. Dear Elder will still work in the field and so will all of the normal letters. Unfortunately, I will only get them every three weeks. I miss everyone and hope everything is well.
As for you, Dad, I don´t know how you kept your sanity in Provo for 9 weeks. I would of lost my mind.
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