Comments on: Three Little Mission Stories http://www.nine-moons.com/?p=284 Fri, 26 Jun 2015 09:36:09 +0000 hourly 1 http://wordpress.org/?v=3.1.1 By: annegb http://www.nine-moons.com/?p=284&cpage=1#comment-3656 annegb Thu, 27 Jul 2006 20:06:25 +0000 http://www.nine-moons.com/?p=284#comment-3656 My son-in-law will eat anything since his mission, although it's sort of sweetly sad to see his revulsion at some of my cooking and how he chokes it down. A mission could be a good experience in that way. My son-in-law will eat anything since his mission, although it’s sort of sweetly sad to see his revulsion at some of my cooking and how he chokes it down.

A mission could be a good experience in that way.

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By: jjohnsen http://www.nine-moons.com/?p=284&cpage=1#comment-3655 jjohnsen Tue, 25 Jul 2006 20:29:32 +0000 http://www.nine-moons.com/?p=284#comment-3655 We had some strange food on my mission (chicken feet soup and fish head soup), but they only looked weird, they tasted great. We had some strange food on my mission (chicken feet soup and fish head soup), but they only looked weird, they tasted great.

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By: Amy http://www.nine-moons.com/?p=284&cpage=1#comment-3654 Amy Tue, 25 Jul 2006 06:24:21 +0000 http://www.nine-moons.com/?p=284#comment-3654 Okay, as long as we're all sharing "I ate worse food than you on my mission" stories, I'll go ahead and put out mine, as lame as it may sound. The absolute grossest food memory I have was of the cheese. Yes, to me, the cheese in Honduras was worse than the mondongo (that is, until I ate it rather regularly for months on end and one day discovered I actually liked it. Mondongo I only had once, so maybe if it had been a regular thing I would have acquired that taste too?) So, I was a greenie sitting with my Guatemalan companion as our investigator brought out a nice respectable meal of beans, fried plantains, and a hard roll. And a huge hunk of white, crumbly, smelly (like the smell-of-your-feet smelly) cheese. At this point I hadn't learned the art of mixing the foods on my plate to choke them down better, so I saved the worst for last. Never can I forget the feeling of that dry, stinky white cheese filling up my mouth and refusing to go down. It just sat there on my tongue and in my cheeks, turning my stomach. I was eating someone's processed toe jam, I just knew it. The funniest part about it to me now is realizing that my companion LOVED that kind of cheese -- it was a delicacy to her and she wouldn't have thought twice about accepting my chunk if I had offered it. DOH! Okay, as long as we’re all sharing “I ate worse food than you on my mission” stories, I’ll go ahead and put out mine, as lame as it may sound.

The absolute grossest food memory I have was of the cheese. Yes, to me, the cheese in Honduras was worse than the mondongo (that is, until I ate it rather regularly for months on end and one day discovered I actually liked it. Mondongo I only had once, so maybe if it had been a regular thing I would have acquired that taste too?)

So, I was a greenie sitting with my Guatemalan companion as our investigator brought out a nice respectable meal of beans, fried plantains, and a hard roll. And a huge hunk of white, crumbly, smelly (like the smell-of-your-feet smelly) cheese. At this point I hadn’t learned the art of mixing the foods on my plate to choke them down better, so I saved the worst for last. Never can I forget the feeling of that dry, stinky white cheese filling up my mouth and refusing to go down. It just sat there on my tongue and in my cheeks, turning my stomach. I was eating someone’s processed toe jam, I just knew it.

The funniest part about it to me now is realizing that my companion LOVED that kind of cheese — it was a delicacy to her and she wouldn’t have thought twice about accepting my chunk if I had offered it. DOH!

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By: don http://www.nine-moons.com/?p=284&cpage=1#comment-3653 don Mon, 24 Jul 2006 20:35:37 +0000 http://www.nine-moons.com/?p=284#comment-3653 Cow Stomach...called "tripe" in England. It is worse than bad, but yellow smoked fish was my "can't ever eat this again food". It tastes bad to start with but I was flaking off some of the meat when a LIVE worm wiggled out thru the flesh. Now triffle and yorkshire pudding and english chocolates....that's good eating. Cow Stomach…called “tripe” in England. It is worse than bad, but yellow smoked fish was my “can’t ever eat this again food”. It tastes bad to start with but I was flaking off some of the meat when a LIVE worm wiggled out thru the flesh.

Now triffle and yorkshire pudding and english chocolates….that’s good eating.

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By: John Cline http://www.nine-moons.com/?p=284&cpage=1#comment-3652 John Cline Sat, 22 Jul 2006 17:19:24 +0000 http://www.nine-moons.com/?p=284#comment-3652 Cow Stomach??? Try Pig Intestines. That was an Okinawan specialty. It tasted quite nice, but the thought of what used to be pushed through those intestines on its way out the back door ruined the appetite. Cow Stomach??? Try Pig Intestines. That was an Okinawan specialty. It tasted quite nice, but the thought of what used to be pushed through those intestines on its way out the back door ruined the appetite.

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By: Floyd the Wonderdog http://www.nine-moons.com/?p=284&cpage=1#comment-3651 Floyd the Wonderdog Sat, 22 Jul 2006 15:39:09 +0000 http://www.nine-moons.com/?p=284#comment-3651 I served in Korea. One day the landlady asked what we wanted for dinner. I told her dog soup. This is a typical summer meal in Korea as it helps you handle the heat so they say. The other Elders liked it and I politely waited until they were done to tell them what it was. I served in Korea. One day the landlady asked what we wanted for dinner. I told her dog soup. This is a typical summer meal in Korea as it helps you handle the heat so they say. The other Elders liked it and I politely waited until they were done to tell them what it was.

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By: Connor Boyack http://www.nine-moons.com/?p=284&cpage=1#comment-3650 Connor Boyack Sat, 22 Jul 2006 00:35:39 +0000 http://www.nine-moons.com/?p=284#comment-3650 Ah, Mondongo. I served next door in Catracholandia (Honduras). Fortunately I only had the pleasure of eating the delectable delight once, towards the end of my mission. The rubber band analogy you gave is dead on. Here's a <a href="http://flickr.com/photos/cboyack/194968125/" rel="nofollow">picture of my mondongo</a>. Another fun experience in the mish is having to "go" when you aren't near your favorite <a href="http://flickr.com/photos/cboyack/167506561/" rel="nofollow">toilet</a>. Folletos (brochures), in that event, <a href="http://flickr.com/photos/cboyack/167506779/" rel="nofollow">come in quite handy</a>. Ah, Mondongo. I served next door in Catracholandia (Honduras). Fortunately I only had the pleasure of eating the delectable delight once, towards the end of my mission. The rubber band analogy you gave is dead on. Here’s a picture of my mondongo.

Another fun experience in the mish is having to “go” when you aren’t near your favorite toilet. Folletos (brochures), in that event, come in quite handy.

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By: KLC http://www.nine-moons.com/?p=284&cpage=1#comment-3649 KLC Fri, 21 Jul 2006 23:16:19 +0000 http://www.nine-moons.com/?p=284#comment-3649 Rusty, your last two stories reminded me of two of my own. I'd ask your permission to share them but what RM ever turned down even an implied chance to bore others with stories from the field? In Chile we had pensiones that included the room and food. Our landlady told me that she had prepared a wonderful "watita" or cow stomach for our lunch. I guess my face gave me away and she asked me if I'd prefer something else. I said I would. That afternoon we sat down to eat. I had a nice beefsteak with a fried egg on it (common in Chile but I don't know where it comes from). My relatively new companion had the watita. He said, "What's this?" "Cow stomach," I said. "Why don't you have it?" "I told her I didn't like it." "Why didn't you tell her that I didn't like it?" "I didn't know that you didn't..." It took several weeks to heal that rift. Another time I gave a discussion to a Pentecostal minister. When we had finished we asked him to offer the prayer. Halfway through he said, "Lord, if the message these young men have told me is true make them fly around this room!!!" I cracked open my eye and found my companion looking at me with a raised eyebrow. Unfortunately we had to walk out of his house... Rusty, your last two stories reminded me of two of my own. I’d ask your permission to share them but what RM ever turned down even an implied chance to bore others with stories from the field?

In Chile we had pensiones that included the room and food. Our landlady told me that she had prepared a wonderful “watita” or cow stomach for our lunch. I guess my face gave me away and she asked me if I’d prefer something else. I said I would. That afternoon we sat down to eat. I had a nice beefsteak with a fried egg on it (common in Chile but I don’t know where it comes from). My relatively new companion had the watita.

He said, “What’s this?”
“Cow stomach,” I said.
“Why don’t you have it?”
“I told her I didn’t like it.”
“Why didn’t you tell her that I didn’t like it?”
“I didn’t know that you didn’t…”

It took several weeks to heal that rift.

Another time I gave a discussion to a Pentecostal minister. When we had finished we asked him to offer the prayer. Halfway through he said, “Lord, if the message these young men have told me is true make them fly around this room!!!”

I cracked open my eye and found my companion looking at me with a raised eyebrow. Unfortunately we had to walk out of his house…

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