April 28, 2008

Earlier in the mission I was told of a letter slump that would come at about the year mark. Apparently it's happened to everyone, but I never believed it. Now I know it is the truth. I'm in it!
However, it's no fault of yours, family. I got Dad's letter this week, it was great. I loved reading about your travels, Dad. And that 2009 Husky schedule made the finish line to this whole mission thing seem so much closer for some reason. I haven't picked a game yet. I'll have to see how next season turns out. But either was I'm excited. I loved the story about the history professor at the UW and his garden. You now, I've met a lot of missionaries whose Dads never write them. I realize I am blessed.
About this letter drought business... it's my friends! I haven't gotten a letter from a friend for quite some time now. Especially Arizona friends. I wrote Jonny maybe three months ago and I still haven't gotten so much as a postcard or an envelope with dirt in it in return. Next time he comes over and spends time in my bathroom, give him a pen and paper first. Chelsea is a slacker too. Tim is taking his time. JJ never wrote me back. Jenna said she wrote me a month ago but I haven't gotten anything. My Russian friend Yana wrote me about a month and a half ago and since then I've gotten only one letter, from Eli. It's all slowing down. Way way down. I have entered the letter drought!
Included in this is the package famine, I have yet to receive the package Dad sent me, or any other that might have been sent. I'm not sure why. I hope it's not lost. I assumed I would get something at transfer day, and then I didn't. So then I was certain I would get something at zone conference, and then I didn't! Nothing. It was then that I realized that I was now passing through what my trainer and so many others had.
As lonely as it is to not get letters from your friends who you love, the upside of all this is that for some reason in some way there is this strange comfort that comes in knowing that you are being forgotten, but at the same time I tell myself, well okay. It gives me vision of a beard in the future and moving to Europe and being alone. ALONE! The mission has made me truly appreciate having moments alone. It's like how Bjork says in Unison (which everyone should go listen to right now because I can't): I thrive best hermit style, with a beard and a pipe and a parrot on each side. I love to hear news from friends, but at the same time it's good to be shipwrecked and bearded in someplace where most would just as soon assume you to be dead. I don't know.
I'm sure this drought will probably end so I'll let you know when I'm out of it. Until then: I LIVE IN BRAZIL.
My feet are fine I think. The little sore bump doesn't hurt anymore really. The only thing that has remained constant since I've been in the field is the tendonitis in my right foot. Only the right foot. But it is not a big deal so there is no need to worry about it. For now I'm riding my bike and getting around town just fine.
Alright now let me just say that God new my mission would be a sacrifice. Had I gone at 19 I really don't think I would have missed much. Now, in the first year of my mission a new Radiohead album has ome out along with apparently tons of other great music, a P.T. Anderson movie has come out, a Wes Anderson movie has come out, the iPhone has come out, Shaq has been traded to the Suns, Zach got baptized and I didn't get to see it, and now (the cherry on top) a plane crashes in the backyard. And I'm sure there are things I'm forgetting. God is funny. But in some strange way it strengthens my testimony. President Aidukaitis told me in my first interview with him "the rain is going to fall, Elder Hoon". Yes, yes indeed.
Well ok I go now. I love you guys. I miss you and can't wait to talk to you on Mother's day. Turner says if you have any doubts about the phone number or anything you can call him. That would be funny.