The never-ending dinner appointment
Tonight Mr. Fob and I watched a fun, sweet little movie called The Errand of Angels. It's about a sister missionary serving in Austria (we checked it out because we did Austria this week). I enjoyed it quite a bit more than I expected too; the plot is a little sparse but I thought the understatement was certainly better than overstatement could have been. We also laughed quite a bit as we recognized things that were familiar from our mission: falling asleep while saying prayers, 'companionship inventories' that are really passive-aggressive (or aggressive) disagreements, people who enthusiastically invite you in only to kick you out after realizing who you are, tracting an entire apartment building with every door slammed in your face, eating meals in small apartments crowded with stuffed animals and weird knick-knacks, and of course the odd food. Not just the food, but the enthusiastic members who seem to assume that missionaries have massive appetites. There was a brief scene edited to show the sisters trying their best to eat their way through a five-course meal. That one reminded me of the time my companion and I were invited to supper by a sweet Peruvian lady. Most meals we ate were served in standard European fashion: first course, second course, dessert. Generally the first course was soup or pasta. This time we had been invited in the later evening, which is usually a smaller meal and often just one course. When we arrived she brought out fish sticks, bread and salad. It seemed like a nice supper and we ate heartily, even accepting second helpings. When we finally pushed back our plates and thanked her, she jumped up and said "oh good, now you're ready for the second course!" Then she brought out plates heaped with chicken and rice. Did I mention that we were also squished onto a lumpy couch at a folding table with a large German shepherd prowling around our feet? And her daughter kept coming into the room and turning up the stereo, which we kept trying to turn down every time she'd leave? It was certainly one of the more interesting dinner appointments of my mission. At least the food was well-cooked and there wasn't a senile old woman yelling swear words at us (that was a different appointment).