Called to serve in the Adriatic North Mission.

Monday, November 16, 2015


This week I was on an exchange. It feels like forever since I've been on one of those. I had the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to be with the famed Sister Peterson, who happened to come out at the same time as me. We finally had the chance to get to know each other this week, though, since she was in the other Croatian-speaking district in the MTC, and we did not mix with that district (I'm kidding; we just had a bit of a rivalry is all). She is a wonderful soul.

So, because we had an exchange with the sisters in Tuzla, we drove and met them halfway in a town called Doboj at the beginning and end of the exchange. Now, on the way to Doboj to pick up Sister Peterson, Sister Marlow and I spotted a turkey farm. This is significant because it is almost impossible to find whole turkeys in the Balkans. We joked about buying a turkey and saving it until Thanksgiving so we could do the holiday the right way. Then, when the exchange came to a close and Sister Marlow and I were once again reunited, we were feeling pretty adventurous (or stir-crazy on account of being 4 hours in a car), so when the sign for turkeys rolled around the corner, we pulled over and got out of the car. After making a quick phone call to our senior couple to get permission to buy a turkey for our district's Thanksgiving celebration, we were promptly greeted by an elderly lady whose hands indicated that she had just come from doing something, don't ask me what, that your typical privileged American would probably consider beneath them. Man, I love these people. Anyway, we relayed to the woman our desperate need for a turkey, and she called for a man to come help us. The man then told us that the smallest turkey he could give us was 9 or 10 kilograms. 

Now, you have to remember that this story is about two helpless, patriotic, young girls who simply wanted to pay tribute to the stars & stripes with a good ol' Turkey Day turkey. So when the helpful gentleman offered us a plucked and cleaned 20 pound fowl, we accepted before we knew to what we were agreeing. We were later informed by our beloved Sister Varty that 20 pounds of meat is adequate to feed about 40 average humans. At that point, however, there was nothing we could do, as the beast had already been carried (or maybe I should say forklifted) into the trunk of the car, and the money transaction completed. Unapologetic, we arrived home to tackle our next obstacle: fitting our new friend into the freezer. Thank goodness ours is larger than that of the average Bosnian resident, or it would have been a real struggle. Now, we just need to wait patiently and refrain from buying too much ice cream since we're tight on storage spacet. It was a successful day!

I've enclosed a picture of me and Sister Marlow at the turkey farm. There were... a lot of live turkeys there. You only see a few. It was terrifying.

The church is good and true! Missions are a lot of fun in every way! 

Sve najbolje,
Sestra Watts

The sunset over the Vrbas river in Banja Luka on Sunday night.

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