Elder Lasswell (left) and Elder Bullough

We got our new missionaries from the MTC, and I'm already eating humble pie. I had expected to have deer-in-headlights missionaries who spoke Khmae worse than me. That is NOT the case. Our two missionaries, Elder Taylor from South Carolina (now Draper, UT) and Elder Lasswell from Houston, TX are competent and well trained. And they DEFINITELY speak better than we do. I'm super happy for them, because they have already hit the ground running. But I am a little discouraged realizing we're in last place in the language race. I know it isn't a race, and how well we speak Khmae doesn't really matter that much. But it's still a little painful. To the parents of Elder Taylor and Elder Lasswell - you have amazing sons. They have strong testimonies, a "whatever it takes" attitude regarding adjusting to the culture, and humble hearts. AND, they have been paired with terrific trainers. Elder Bullough (with Elder Lasswell) and Elder Shiefer (with Elder Taylor) are the best.

Taylor (front left), Galahad (front right), Lines (Peace Sign) Schiefer

Missionaries have a funny way to keep track of their mission growth. They are "born" the day they arrive in Cambodia. Their first trainer is "Dad" if it's an Elder. "Mom" if it's a Sister.  They refer to themselves as koon's (pronounced goans), which means "child" in Khmae. The day they leave is called their "death day." Missionaries print death day photo cards of themselves with their "death date" in prominent letters - along with contact info in their home country/state. It's a fun tradition - even if it is a little morbid.

We planted rice today as a service project (it was one of my "bucket list" experiences for this mission). Awesome. We came prepared for leeches (which didn't happen), mud (which DID happen) and sun (which was relentless).

I have even greater respect for the Cambodian farm families who spend hours every day working their fields. Sometimes they are planting in the mud, sometimes they're










on hard ground pulling weeds and grass. We all struggled (except for Sister Ham - who has rice planting in her blood) to differentiate grass and weeds from rice plants. It's sounds simple, but it isn't (I think the poor family who brought us in to help were really glad to see us go - before they lost an entire crop). My favorite part was hearing the missionaries sing hymns (in Khmae - including the newbies) as they planted (it was the Cambodian version of, "pioneer children sang as they walked and walked"). I hope as you look at the pictures, you can hear the young voices singing. These are remarkable young men and women.

Sister Lines and Sister Ham

Sisters Ham and Nit inspecting the men's work

Sister Galahad

Finally, we learned about international banking laws the hard way. Apparently the ATM card we got from our bank was a temp card - with a two month expiration. A permanent card would be sent later. We didn't realize it until yesterday when our attempts were canceled again and again (we went to 7 different ATM locations). At the last one, the machine "ate" our card and said we had to see the bank folks inside. HOWEVER, it was now 4:05 on Friday and the bank was closed until Monday. We banged on the glass door, until someone came over and flipped the "open" sign to "closed." We pointed at the ATM machine - making monster eating gestures, and annoyed them enough to get the bank manager to come over and  let us in (accompanied by an automatic weapons-carrying guard). She opened the machine, pulled out our card, and said she couldn't give it to us until she confirmed with Phnom Penh. We were invited to take a seat - along with the guard. Bottom line, she wouldn't give the card back because it didn't have our name on it (the card just said, "bank customer"). She said the card was the property of the bank (it says so on the back of the card) and she had to mail it back to the US. Ugh!!! We convinced her to just cut up the card (it wasn't any good to us) and sizzled our way out. Sooooo, we've learned that it is important to get a permanent card before leaving the country. The solution (get a new permanent card) sounds simple enough, except that it takes 2-3 weeks for any kind of postal delivery to arrive. And because addresses don't really exist in our town, all mail goes to the mission home in Phnom Penh - 120 kilometers away.

We'll figure it out. We can McGuiver something until the new card arrives (thanks to our amazing daughter). But to any future overseas-going missionaries going to cash-only countries: get it done EARLY.

3 point planting stance

Elder Schiefer and Elder Mather