2008 Apr 21--,qnqhoqnq is what manahoana looks like if I type regularly on this FRENCH FORSAKEN KEYBOARD

Hi
i might write a proper e-mail later but not on this french keboqrd but enjoy the pictures:

2008 Apr 8--"mbolastara" which is "Hello" in Sakalava and literally means "Still Good"

Well hi,

It's been an eventful week. In what was labeled, "Emergency Transfers," I received a new companion, who will be one of 4 missionaries to "kill" me. I was sad to see Elder Fuga leave, but I'm still giving him partial credit for the kill (that means he can still put at least half a notch on the back of his name tag to tally the number of "kills" on the mission. Surprisingly--I have never "killed" a missionary in the entirety of my mission.)

For those of you unfamiliar with the lingo, to "kill" a missionary is to be their last companion while on mission. And my 2nd killer is... Elder Matthew Phillip Lemieux, From Montreal Canada. Elder Lemieux is the last international missionary left in this mission. (Speaking of which--Elder Silver--my British Empty Sea companion, and Elder Prouteau of Southern France--the very first person I met on the mission at the Empty Sea--both left on Friday April 4, which marked 2 years of mission for me. I feel really weird.)

So I've come full circle: I started my mission with a British Welshman, and I'll end my mission with a Canadian. (Which is appropriate I guess, cuz Canada's closer to home right?) The Emergency transfer took us by surprise. I felt confident that Elder Fuga knew the area and our investigators well enough for me to pass on the baton, but then they transferred him on less than a day's notice, giving Elder Lemieux less than 2 weeks to learn about our investigators before I get transferred. I was concerned. But this made me focus on those investigators who were the most important for him to know and teach. Happily, the suddenness of the transfer became the catalyst for the most success and progression I've seen since I came to this area. I'll explain briefly if I'm capable. Before Lemieux came, the area had 4 people with Baptismal dates, and since he's come,we now have 14 people who will be baptized by June. Many of those 14 people were progressing well, but I've always been hesitant about handing out Baptismal Dates like candy and then baptizing people into oblivion--I've just taught WAY too many less active lessons and thought, "what were they thinking when they baptized this guy?" So, I'm more cautious about these things. But sometimes, I think maybe I'm a bit too cautious about it. The sudden transfers made me realize how many quality investigators we were teaching, (possibly the result-- in part-- of my caution, and trying to teach only the best people.) Elder Lemieux was impressed by the caliber of our investigators; and we both felt prompted to challenge them to pray about the truth, and then to be baptized in the true church. They all accepted.

Throughout my mission, I've always wondered what the phrase "virgin territory" meant, and how it applied to my mission, but I never knew what to think. Sometimes I wondered if I had done something wrong, or if my thinking was out of place, but I always felt something was supposed to happen. But in my entire mission, I never even got a chance to work in another province, like many other missionaries in this mission, and this made me further wonder what "virgin territory" means. While nearing the end of my mission, it seemed I would never get a chance to work in a place that would be considered virgin territory, so I just figured I didn't really know what it meant, and I hoped that maybe I would figure it out someday. [Editor's note: Toby's patriarchal blessing says that he will, in essence, do missionary work in an area where there has not been missionaries before.]

I don't know if you recall, but there was a time, about 2 months ago, when the President called me into his office to tell me that he thought I should leave early because he was, "worried about my back problems." I don't know when I decided, but I had already resolved to extend an extra month. I couldn't tell you why I wanted to extend, because honestly, in my mission, I've had so many hang-ups and head-aches and hair-loss and hell than I've ever felt slightly inclined to deal with heretofore--if this was a job--I would have quit long ago. But I wanted to extend, and all I could tell you was just this: It just feels right. (and I've never been good with "feelings,") so I fought and struggled and argued for me to be able to stay the extra month even though my back was giving me trouble. (and still is--I need to get that checked out when I get home ;) Somehow, I was able to get the extension. My feelings at the time were, "Great! I got the extension...now what?" I still didn't know why I wanted it--but I think I know why now.

In the latter half of the last month before my 2 year mark--something happened. I couldn't describe to you exactly what, but something happened. I felt different. All of the struggles, stress, headaches, health problems, trials etc... throughout my mission somehow came into perspective in my mind, and I felt at peace. I don't know exactly why or how, but I felt good about everything. This may not have happened had I left early, as the president suggested. I can't be sure, but I don't think I would have left the mission on a good note had that happened. After the peace of mind came something more tangible: A phone call. It was the AP's. They were calling to tell me that this Saturday, I will be transferred on special assignment with one other missionary, (Elder Jenson, the last of my Empty Sea group, who only just recently decided to extend--this also makes him my 3rd "killer"--) to go to Mahajanga, on the northern tip of Madagascar, where no missionaries have ever worked, to work there for 10 days and baptize 12 people in the ocean to start a new branch out there. No missionary has ever baptized anyone in Mahajanga before, and no missionaries now work there, but this may be the start of something happening there. We'll see, I guess. This wouldn't have happened to me if I didn't extend.

I'll get back to Antananarivo for a week and probably go around with a Malagasy member (the 4th and final "killer") to say good bye to everyone, and then that's it. I'm "dead." I don't know what to think of it all. I'm still stressed out of my mind, but for a different reason now: I'm leaving. I feel happy and sad all at once. I'm excited to see all of you again, but I'm scared to leave this place, and I don't know why.

I don't know if this makes sense or if it's cliche or whatever, but I feel weird. But I think I'll be fine.

I'm learning some of the dialect in Mahajanga--it's freakin' weird, (but still Malagasy, and I realize that Malagasy is also probably freakin' weird to all but a few people, so...) but it's cool sounding. The dialect is called, Sakalava, after the tribe that speaks it. Sakalava means "tall cat" or "long cat" and is one of the more African influenced dialects in Malagasy--which is technically an Austronesian language. I speak Merina which is also considered the "official language," so I can get by just about anywhere in the country. (Except with the Antandroy dialect, which I can't get a word of.)

So I'm excited. I'm happy, and I hope you guys a have a nice day, but I'm out of time so...

Veloma!
Elder Draper
(or Jean Pierre, depending on where you're from.)

2008 Apr 1--Throw Stuff Out, Give Stuff Away, Pack & Say Goodbye

Well hi,

Yesterday, the mission had an "outing" out of town. I ended up not going and went on splits with a "fellow-dying" missionary to take care of stuff for our last few P-days instead. We didn't E-mail because we thought we should wait for both of our companions to get back and then we could E-mail with them later. They got back about 5 hours later than scheduled, so I'm E-mailing you now.

OK that's done.

Life's good. I have a lot more things to write to you than time allows me presently. But I want you to know that things are good. The mission's done me well. If I had to leave tomorrow, I'd feel good about then mission ( although I'd probably lose it because I still haven't packed, thrown stuff out, given the rest away, said good bye, and all that. But I'd feel good about the mission.)

Thankfully, I've still got some time to throw stuff out, give stuff away, pack, and say good bye. I've only just now begun to budget my time - and it isn't much.

Speaking of which, that's all the time I have to write you today. But I love you all. I'll see you in Mai.

Veloma!

-Elder Draper

2008 Mar 25--On Mission

Hi there,
Here we are again. I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to E-mail you guys yesterday but everything was closed, so they changed our P-day to today.

But things are going good. Fuga continues to be a pleasure to work with. I'll be honest, I'm starting to feel how close I am to the end and it's kinda weirding me out. The light at the end of the tunnel is so bright it's hurting my eyes. I keep getting these reminders from everyone that I'm going home and I seem to be the last one who wants to think about it. I'll see what I can do to come to terms with it this week without stressing out too much or becoming too trunky, as they say. But I'm on my last planner on which I have written the subtitle, "The Planner to End All Planners." It works out that the end of the planner is the end of my mission. I've also sold my first guitar to another elder (he wants me to sign it " ...so that when you get famous...") and I've had another guitar made. It's pretty cool. Instead of dots for the fret markers, I had them put *T - O - B - Y * running down the neck, and they've put a green clover on the head above the tuners. It's rounded-out kind of like a cello, and I had them put the f-hole cut-outs also like a cello instead of the standard circle cut-out below the strings. It's a natural wood color and I think it turned out nice. I put in an order for this guitar quite a while ago, and after a lot of visits and corrections, it's finally finished. I'm happy with it--it's not perfect and it's got a lot of the quirky Malagasy-lack-of-attention-to-detail to it, but in spite of that, I think it turned out well--in fact I kinda like the "Malagasy-defects" --they make it a unique guitar. But now that the guitar is finished, it reminds me again that this is coming to a close.

I think I'll make a list of things that I love about Madagascar this week and maybe I'll share a bit with you next week ( and I promise that the whole list won't be ironic, but I can't promise that some of it won't be ;) But really, I love this place. I didn't really get to see much of it, so I'm resolved to come back again and see some more of it. Come to think of it, I don't think I've ever been confined to such a limited radius for this long in my entire life. Antananarivo definitely has character, but sometimes I look off in the distance to the hills just beyond the city and sigh just a bit. It's gonna be weird to leave.

One inside joke that's been reoccurring this week is something Sister Y ( the 70's wife) kept on saying in her talk,"when you're on mission..." Not "on your mission" Not "... on a mission" Simply "on mission" as in the British "on Holiday." Sister Y is from South Africa and has that way of speaking that is foreign to most Americans. But she said "on mission" so many times it became redundant, and I looked to see every missionary cringe every time she said it. "When my son was on mission..." "You learn so much on mission..." "when you get home from mission, remember...." Anyway, since then, all the missionaries on mission have been using the phrase where applicable and sometimes where not-so-applicable just because it's funny (or maybe it's only funny if you're on mission--I can't be sure.) But it's part of the language now, so if while giving my homecoming talk, I happen to say something like, "while I was on mission I drank lots of Kool Aid...." or something, don't judge me, cuz I've forgotten how to Speak OK! But on the bright side, this week I had 3 Malagasys thinking I was actually a Malagasy (OK--it was on the phone--but even so-- this will do me a lot of good when I get home I just know it ;)

Well, I gotta go. I love you all. I'll see you in 6 weeks (shudder, it's that close already?) OK Veloma!
Elder Draper