This is my return-and-report about a charity walk for Japan in which I participated. Strangely, Mormon missionaries show up in this tale.

I posted last week about a fund-raising effort to help in the aftermath of Japan's recent apocalyptic events. A local riverside village with a strong fishing culture and longtime ties to Japan organized a walk through the village, across a park and along the riverfront this past Sunday. Participants donated to the cause of adopting a decimated village near Sendai in Japan. All funds go directly to the sister city of this B.C. village and community reps here will work with their sister city's reps to help rebuild their neighbouring Japanese village. Contributing directly to a rebuilding effort appeals to me.

Here's my post from last week:

http://exmormon.org/phorum/read.php?2,139480,139480#msg-139480

For once, I actually made it to an event as planned and did the walk. They had already raised over $40K before I even started. The goal was $100K. The sun was out and the day looked glorious, which could be why I arrived ill-prepared for the arctic winds, blowing harsher as I approached the river. Not far from the river I had to jam out as daggers of frigid air stabbed through my ears and met in the middle. Absolutely freezing. I was disappointed not to get to the water, which was kinda the goal, but at least I could see it from where I stood in retreat. It was good to participate and mix with the crowds though. One tiny elderly Japanese lady in traditional costume had three even tinier puppies wearing teeny winter coats with signs attached asking for contributions. They had collected a vast group of kids following them about, due to their major cuteness factor.

We then travelled seaward to another village to reward ourselves with a brew in our favourite Irish pub. I was the driver and dropped everyone off curbside due to a dearth of available parking. They went ahead and by the time I finally arrived a long time later the Irish musicians had packed up, to my great disappointment. I had circled around for 20 minutes before finding a parking spot, then faced a long grueling climb up a steep hill to get back to the pub, the stiff ocean breeze even closer this time. Brrrrrr.

Just as I finally crested the hill (another 20 minutes later!) I spied the telltale suits, shirts, ties of a Mormon companionship standing in the middle of a narrow, hilly, crowded sidewalk overlooking the Pacific Ocean. In spite of all the exercise I was chilly and windblown. They were without overcoats, gloves, earmuffs or any paraphernalia any normal person would use in such conditions. Maybe the sunshine had fooled them too into thinking it was warmer out than it turned out to be.

The missionaries stuck out like a black thumb in their thin Sunday suits in a seaside village, standing on a hillside on a windy afternoon, blocking the damn sidewalk. You had to trip over them to get past, whether you were travelling east or west.

They were whistling in the wind as far as any effect on the locals and visitors. But then along comes Nightingale. I cannot, no matter how much I focus and practice, just walk by without engaging. I try to be neutral but within 12 seconds always give myself away. My intention was just to smile and say hi as I quickly scooted past but I didn't get the scooting part down well and one of them approached me and clung on, following me as I kept walking. His companion, meanwhile, hid behind him (I can relate to the embarrassment of street preaching and the desire to sink into the ground while being saddled with an overly enthusiastic preacher partner). I did smile and say hi so I can understand him thinking he had landed a live one. Then I stupidly looked at his nametag, Elder Tanner, and recognized his name and asked if he had an older brother! No wonder he kept drifting towards me as I backed away, intent on getting to the pub before the beer ran out. "Oh, so you've met with the missionaries before?" he said with a big smile. "Yup, been there, done that" I replied. "I just wanted to say hi" I said and then turned and kept walking.

Not a huge big hairy deal, as they didn't chase me down or anything, but funny how Mormonism intruded into my Sunday "off". I had been enjoying the sun, the sea, even the walk and the chilly air. Then up pop the mishies. I don't see them very often. I would have liked not to have seen them then.

I couldn't help thinking how much they stood out as being so outside the norm, in their dress (suits in a casual seaside village, no warm weather gear), in their street approach to try and nab strangers who wanted to talk religion (chances low to nil), in their youth, inexpertise, lack of life experience, and inability to connect with "normal" people going about enjoying their weekend.

To all the non-Mormons on the street, these guys were whistling in the wind. I grinned to think of how in their eyes, for one brief moment, I was perhaps a prospect at last, as I at least was friendly and had had prior dealings with mishies. Really I am the last one they would ever get back to church. I hustled off on my Sabbath-breaking ways, soon to commit a transgression against the WoW. Life is good in that way. :)

I felt that participating in the walk for Japan and helping to raise funds to rebuild a village on the other side of the Pacific Ocean was much more practical and meaningful than engaging in street preaching. I was satisfied with my Sunday and happy to be out and about. I wonder what level of peace and satisfaction their Sunday activities brought to those two missionaries. Perhaps they pitied me like I pitied them. Even so, I still win. I figure I was definitely enjoying my day more than the second silent missionary was enjoying his.

I did think afterwards that I could have offered to buy their dinner. I don't mind doing that sometimes. I don't consider that it's contributing to the Mormon cause because I make it clear that that is not my intent. I just remember the hungry missionaries I used to know. Who knows - maybe one day the fact that a stranger will feed them while their church apparently doesn't mind if they starve will switch on a lightbulb for them.

See? I keep telling ya that absolutely EVERYTHING can relate somehow to Mormonism. I'm guessing that if I were a member of the Mormon Church that would be faith-promoting to me. As it is, I think it's just life. One gigantic circle.

Have I ever mentioned how relieved and happy I am to be OUT of Mormonism? I'd stand in an arctic wind forever and climb ten thousand hills in preference to spending even one more hour at a Mormon meeting or listening to one more vapid missionary "discussion".

Life is good, this side of the Pac Ocean. I appreciate it every day.



Edited 7 time(s). Last edit at 03/23/2011 04:45PM by Nightingale.

Did you get to the pub before the beer ran out?

LOL siog. Only just! When I finally staggered in, the barkeep said "Wow, you look thirsty!" They had poured me a pint a long while before. It was flat and warm and the wrong brand for me but still welcome. The second one (Harp) went down even better!

I soon forgot all about Mormonism again. And the mishies were gone by the time we left. Gravity was a great help in getting back to the car (the hill is always easier going back, haha). The one true eternal force!

Lovely to see you around, siog. I was happy to think of you in Ireland but your move elsewhere was interesting to read about as well. How's it going?