Only a couple days after we got into town we had already lost track of time.

Only a couple days after we got into town we had already lost track of time.

The day Vicki and Tandy left for the States Jade and I took a day trip into Puerto Vallarta (about an hour and a half drive each way) to hit up Costco and Wal-Mart.

We needed to stock up since the tiendas in Chacala only have necessities, basically bread, milk, eggs,  a few fruits and veggies (tomatoes, onions, oranges, and bananas), and a little junk food. We got enough food to last a few weeks.

So the day after our trip we were ready to take a lazy day. No swimming, no exercising. I mainly read and played the ukulele which Jade and I have both been trying to learn. I learned a new song, “It’s Time” by Imagine Dragons. It’s my first song with bar chords, at which I am terrible, but I love that song.

We took a walk on the beach around sunset. It was only then that I realized that it was Sunday. Oops!

We had missed church and I was disappointed. Attending a local branch was something I was looking forward to here. Man, I had missed my first opportunity.

We had done some research. Mormon.org claims there is a LDS branch in Las Varas, the tiny town on the highway right before the turn off to Chacala.

10:00 am, it says, at 26 Puebla Norte.

When Jade was here visiting 2 years ago he had hoped to go to a Mexican branch. He looked it up and the website had given him this exact same information. He had driven up and down the streets with his mom and brothers but they were unsuccessful finding the meetinghouse. If it exists at all, it must be hidden.

Knowing they had been unsuccessful before, I suggested that we take a trip into Las Varas a couple days before the next Sunday so we could try to find the place ahead of time. I was determined not to let this Sunday pass me by too.

We headed out there on Friday. We drove into Las Varas, and parked on a random street.

We had a few errands to run first. Jade got our Chacala cell phone set up with a Mexico phone number (Thanks Danny White for the lender phone!)  so we could be reachable to the locals and in case we had any emergencies while we were out on trips.

We stopped at a few tiendas, bought some groceries, a few dvds for 20 pesos apiece (about $1.30), and had lunch at a cute little Mexican place that, if you ask me, tried too hard to be like an American place. It was good, though, and we were full and energized for our search.

We quickly found Puebla Norte. Good thing Jade is good with directions because I wouldn't have found it on my own. The lack of street signs in Mexico is infuriating to me. I am not spoiled enough to really NEED Google Maps to lead me turn-by-turn directly to my destination. Fine. But can’t I even rely on a good old fashioned map? No. That would be too easy.

We turn down Puebla, trying to notice any numbers or signs that would indicate if we are even close. 

According to the online map we memorized earlier, we should be passing it right now. But the buildings look empty, abandoned, and dilapidated. “Maybe they’re so righteous that their meetinghouse was taken up into Heaven,” I suggest.

Jade thinks aloud, “Maybe if we turn here and circle the block, we might find another opening. Maybe it’s on a weird side street or something.” We try that with no luck. We circle around and get back on Puebla. We try heading the other direction, looking for any clues. Again there is nothing.

“The problem,” Jade says, “is that it could just be upstairs in some random building, or it could be in the back room of the Branch President’s house for all we know.” We decide that maybe on Sunday we will have better luck. Maybe we will see people walking in with white shirts and ties. It’s not likely but we can tell nothing is going to come from our efforts today. We decide to pack up and head home.

When Sunday morning rolls around I want to get out there early enough that we have time to drive around and search some more. It seems foreign to be wearing church clothes, even though we went to church 2 weeks ago in the States. It’s just so hot. Is Jade’s tie really necessary? I've never been to a branch meeting. I've never been to church outside of the United States. I don’t know what to expect.

We drive the same roads, circle the same blocks we did only a couple of days ago. It seems so hopeless. “Maybe we’ll have better luck searching in La Peñita next week. Let’s try there,” I say. But Jade wants to drive around the block again. He refuses to be defeated. We say another quick prayer.

Again, we find ourselves at Puebla Road.

Do we take a left or a right? Uh… let’s try a right. So we do. We look up and down all the buildings on either side of the road with no indication as to where we are for a bit. We finally notice the numbers on one of the houses, 45. Then the next, 53. We are going the wrong direction. Good to know. We turn around.

I watch the numbers as much as I can. Jade sees a 33. We are getting close. We are sure the church has to be somewhere on this block but we just don’t see it. Is it invisible!? I’m ready to give up.

The street that we cross says it is 14 and then the next building we can find numbers on says 8. Again, too far. We turn around and head back down the same street for what seems like the tenth time.

We pass the Street 14 and pull over next to the first building. It has 2 doors on the first level. The gate on the door on the right is closed. The gate on the left is open and there is an old woman sitting inside. That is definitely not a church. But we can finally see the number above her doorway on the building. It says 26. I could swear that’s the number we are looking for but I can’t be sure anymore.  Too many numbers are swirling around in my head.

What about the door on the right? It looks closed up. The greenery is overgrown in the doorway and there are big trees growing right in front of the building, hiding most of it. That is when we see the sign, hand carved out of wood on a tiny 18 square inch sign hung on the second floor, almost completely hidden by tree. La Iglesia de Jesucristo de los Santos de los Últimos Días. We made it. We looked at the clock, 9:52. Good timing, we wouldn't even be late.

The front door opened up into small room which was the living room back when this used to be a home. 

There were stairs that went up to somewhere but we heard people in the back so we stayed on the first floor. Directly back from the living room was an open air corridor that lead into the “chapel,” the FRONT of the chapel.

I was horrified to realize that the people we heard was actually one man. He was standing at the pulpit speaking.  We were supposed to still have 5 minutes. I don’t speak very much Spanish yet but I could understand enough to tell he was not just conducting business or introducing speakers. He was giving his talk. Jade and I realized that church must have started at 9:00 am. Dang it! Such a short victory.

It was too late to turn around though, we had been spotted. We filed past the speaker, past the small congregation to a couple empty seats in the back.

As the speaker finished up I looked around. I counted the members. Including the speaker there were 4 men, 3 women, and 4 kids ranging from 5 years old up into teenage years. On the left side of the room it was open, no roof, and there was an impressive tropical garden that took up as much room as the congregation.

Behind us was what used to be a kitchen area. Up front there was a pulpit, a sacrament table, and a chalk board hanging on the wall with notes from last week’s lesson.

I tried so hard to listen to this man’s talk. I had to strain to hear his words through his mumbling. Certain words would jump out at me but I was honestly too distracted by my new surroundings to catch the topic of the sermon. He quickly finished up. I sang my first Spanish hymn and then another member stood up and said a quick prayer.

And then I waited. I knew the attention was coming but I also knew I would have to let Jade volley most of the conversations. The members were so kind. They asked where we are from, where we are staying, how we like it here. They wanted to know where Jade learned his Spanish. They said he speaks well. Since he learned on his mission in Honduras, he tells them, people usually tell him he sounds like a cowboy.

We told them we would be staying for a few months and they were delighted. We also told them that online it says their meeting starts at 10:00. We didn't just lose track of time and sleep in.

I easily understood most of their questions and Jade’s answers but usually a few seconds too late, not quickly enough to contribute much, sometimes a laugh and a nod. They were delighted that Jade could speak their language and their questions ate up a good chunk of time into the Sunday School hour.

The man that had given the talk in Sacrament Meeting was actually the Branch President, Francisco Anaya. His wife, Lilia, had been the first one to approach us. They belong to two of the children from the congregation that had already herded the other kids upstairs for Primary.

When the questions died down Lilia started her Sunday school lesson in the same room. I understood the topic, the Plan of Salvation, but understood less than half of what was said. I kept telling myself that’s still pretty good! I daydreamed about what it will be like when there’s not a delay in my head, while I am translating almost every word into English. That just got me more lost and I had to focus, once again, to find the topic of conversation.

Sometimes I thought I knew what people were saying, but I was far from being sure. It was mostly a wild guess leaning on a weak foundation of “educated.” I would lean to Jade and say something like, “She’s talking about the Spirit Paradise, right? Was that guy’s question about the Atonement?”

His answer was usually a “yes” but it wasn't hard to keep the confidence from going to my head. There was still SO much I couldn't comprehend. They called on Jade to read some scriptures and it helped for me to follow along.

As the class came to a close I realized that in Relief Society I would be completely on my own, without Jade to translate for me. I felt a flutter of anxiety but I was trying to mask my insecurity from Jade. He said we didn't have to stay for third hour but he was encouraging and I decided to “fake it ‘till you make it.” The confidence, that is—not the Spanish. Faking Spanish would confuse me more than the real thing.

I told Jade that I wanted to stay for Relief Society. When Sunday School closed Sister Anaya and the other woman in the class, an old, leathery looking woman, headed down the corridor back toward the front of the building and the men were gathering in the chapel. I guess that’s my cue, turn the bravery on.

I got up and followed the two women. When they got back to the living room area they set up a few folding chairs. The old woman was sitting at the front, ready to teach. Sister Anaya sat next to me. That was it, just us three.

I was on my own. Jade had done most of the talking for us earlier. These women didn't know if I could understand a word out of their mouths, really. Time for the test of my skills.

I told them in my very best Spanish that I don’t know a lot of the language. I understand a lot but can’t speak very much… “Mi esposo me está enseñando.” My husband is teaching me.

The ladies proceed to tell me that they don’t speak a word of English. …Oh perfect. I had hoped that they would know at least a little, since it seems like lots of people here do. But at the same time I was glad. It would force me to rise to the challenge.

We started class and I could quickly tell that the sister that was teaching is new to the church. She was so sweet. She had so many questions. Sister Anaya ended up doing most of the teaching that hour as well.

We were reading sections from a manual about the Proclamation on the Family. There was a long discussion about the old woman’s grandson who has a novia, a girlfriend, and about temple ordinances.

I was caught off guard when they turned to me to ask a question and I didn't understand. Sister Anaya couldn't remember the English word for “nacer.” She was trying hard, racking her brain and it suddenly came back to me. I remember Jade teaching me about that word. “Yes, I was born into the church. All of my brothers and sisters and my mom was too, but not my dad,” I replied in Spanish. And then I lost the conversation again.

They got speaking so fast that I ended up just staring at them with a blank expression on my face. But I could tell that the lesson was heartfelt and the Spirit was strong.

When the lesson was over Sister Anaya and I were trying to have a conversation. If I didn't understand, she would repeat it, slower, and try to help me.

She told me that her husband likes to fish in Chacala. I told her that Jade is from a family that loves to fish as well. In fact, we like to eat fish more than most other types of meat. “Oh!” She got excited, “you have to come to our house for dinner sometime and have fish. My husband just caught some yesterday and we have a lot in our refrigerator.”

“Perfecto,” I said. “Anytime,” I said in English because I didn't know the translation. She picked up her bag and headed straight back into the chapel where the Priesthood Meeting had just ended.

She ran up to where her husband was already talking to Jade and filled them in on her idea. “Hoy?” She said. “I don’t have anything made yet but we can go home now and start cooking.” So we took her up on her offer.

Since we had our car we gave Sister Anaya and her kids a ride to their house a few blocks up. It was the quintessential Mexican home, hand built by President Anaya, his brother, and four Mormon missionaries, we were told.  The roof was made of brick arches, the rooms were very open, and the furnishings were modest. There was a garden in back with a blow up swimming pool for the little boy.

The boy, whose name escapes me, is 5 years old, his sister, probably 14. They have 2 older siblings, a brother on a mission and a sister away at college. The little guy was obviously ecstatic to have another boy around the house. He was hyper to have Jade’s undivided attention, which left me with the ladies in the kitchen… the ladies who don’t speak any English… and no one to translate. There is only so much you can say with a preschool  vocabulary.

“Qué puedo hacer para ayudarte?” I asked. I wanted to help cook. In addition to helping take some of the pressure off the family to cook, I also thought it would take some of the pressure off the conversation.

But no. “Nada,” I was told.

“Nada? Estás segura?  Hay ALGO que puedo hacer. Quiero ayudarte.”

“Ah,” Sister Anaya said as she seemed to think of some way I could help. “Come,” She said, “Eat.” And she handed me a bucket full of mangoes.

Well I was hungry. And I do love mangoes. And I didn't want to fight and be a bad guest. So I decided to let her have the victory. I started chopping up mangoes and took a bowl to Jade and the boy. He found me a starfruit in the back yard which I was ecstatic about. I have been looking for starfruit ever since my first one 6 years ago in Hawaii. I loved it. The Anaya family has a tree. Lucky me.

Brother Anaya had to run up the highway to La Peñita to log tithing. He would join us a little later.

The meal that Sister Anaya prepared was delicious and perfect, all homemade and simple. She blended up some beans with a hand held electric blender that she told me she has had for 18 years! She scooped the beans onto 5 plates along with fresh Pico de Gallo and a large filet of fried fish. Tortillas and tostadas were on the table along with some chopped mangoes courtesy of moi, and a delicious noodle soup I had never seen before.

The conversation flowed easily and soon Brother Anaya got home to join in as well. They told us about their kids and showed us pictures of their son on his mission in Chile. Sister Anaya and her daughter gave me the recipe for the soup. I made Jade translate everything word for word to make sure I had it right and then repeat everything back again. She gave me a bag of the noodles so I could try it soon.

We soon realized that we had been there for almost 5 hours! The time had flown by. We were in no hurry to leave but it was Fathers' Day and we wanted time to Skype with our families before it got too late. We thanked them so much for the wonderful meal and conversation. What a beautiful family and what a fun experience! Seven straight hours of Spanish practice had me a little worn out. They loaded us up with a sack of mangoes and starfruit and we were on our way.

What a Sunday. I am definitely looking forward to next week. I promised myself I would try very hard to not lose track of Sundays anymore.

Click here for photos of our adventure!