I won't tell you that I have edited this for RfM. I also won't tell you that you can find the whole thing on a particular blog. I also won't definitely link to that blog myself because that usually gets deleted, but here is a story about me just recently entering the mission field:

I didn't sleep much the last day that I was in the MTC. Two months in that place had seemed like an eternity, yet I felt that the "real" mission was just beginning. My mind kept me up with the possibilities of the field. I had no true expectations, but my brain was in overdrive testing out probabilities of what the future held. Too many questions and not enough answers, and it was not simply a logical exercise. I was also flooded with a lot of mixed emotions. I was excited but anxious for the next 22 months of my life. I was homesick but this was also a great adventure. I lied awake on the top bunk in the bunker that had been my residence for 8 horrendous weeks.

The next day was busy. We had already packed all of our shit the night before - and that had been quite the task. Living out of a suitcase for two years - what do you take? Most of us had taken too much. We knew we were going to be semi-nomadic and packing the night before had brought on this stark reality. One of my bags had been packed in such a way that I was going to empty out most of it when arriving at the airport. Most of the other Elders had done the same thing.

The culture of the MTC teaches Elders one very specific lesson - watch everything that everyone else does and compare yourself to everyone else. While packing, everyone had a chance to look over everyone else's and comment.

"What's that?"

"Why did you bring that?"

"Are you going to take that with you?"

"How did you fit everything into THAT bag?"

"How full is YOUR luggage?"

"How much stuff are YOU taking?"

We were loaded onto giant buses and transported from Provo to the Salt Lake Titties International Airport. Those of us who were fortunate enough live in Utah met our families at the airports and we quickly unloaded the excess items off to them before checking our luggage and heading off to security.


I said goodbye to family and friends for what was assumed to be 22 months, but I called my parents again during the layover I had in Chicago. I don't remember if that was kosher, but I did it anyway. Afterwards I boarded the big ass plane to Frankfurt. It was the beginning of February and only a handful of people other than missionaries were on board.

By the time we had had our layovers the flight was going to be through the night. This wasn't a great set-up for me because I don't sleep well on planes. I might pass out for awhile with no recollection of the time interval, but not sleep. Not the kind where you have dreams that you are the Red Skull and you are fighting Captain America with a spear that you've fashioned from gardening tools, and every time you skewer him you yell, "The power of Satan compels me!" You know, normal sleep.


Anyway, we got our shit from the airport and then went to a Marriott Hotel for a period of time. Again, I would like to say that I remembered what day or time it was, but I was strung out from the travel.

My companion slept, but I didn't. I just was jet lagged and felt completely out of it. It may have been a few days since I slept, it may have been a few weeks, I'm not sure. But what I do know is that the whole world seemed to take on a brightness to it that freaked me out, and that I was better at picking out conversations in the distance than ones happening right in front of me and that the thought of food made me physically ill.

At some point it was time for us to go somewhere, pick up our bikes, and then ride our bikes to the mission office.

This made as much sense to me as it does to you, but the only thought I had was, "Oh, fuck! I'm going to die." I got my bike - which looked like a blue version of Pee Wee's bike from his Big Adventure except without all of the hilarious gizmos, and then we took a "ride" to the mission office.

I hadn't slept in what seemed like a week and was riding a bike for the first time since I was about ten years old on narrow cobblestone streets with heavy traffic. I remember praying desperately to god, "Please don't let me die now!" as my bike jostled over the uneven pavement and cars streaked passed me.

I met several Elders who worked in the office as well as the Mission President. We didn't stay long before all of us, the "Greenies" were to meet at the President's home for a meal before getting our new companions and then going of to our actual field homes and assignments.

I didn't eat much at the meal at the mission home. I could only handle a few bites, and then I spent some time in the bathroom. The whole experience was a blur because of the jet lag and the insomnia. The president's wife probably made a fantastic meal, but I couldn't tell. My head felt packed with white cotton, and my stomach felt like I had just spent the last 36 hours riding the Tea Cups non-stop.

We had a meeting where we met our new companions. These were our "Trainers" because we were the "Newbies," the "Greenies," the "We don't know what the fuck we are doing heres" where our Mission President pontificated about the mission, the "gospel," and the German people. At some point the president said something that sparked my curiosity. I raised my hand and asked, "Why is that?" The president deflected the answer to my question and moved on. I had been curious and asked a question. He didn't answer it, and moved on. That was that.

My "trainer" and I gathered my belongings and we made the trek to my first area - Langen. A little town outside of Frankfurt. We resided in a cute little apartment overlooking one of the main streets to the cute "downtown" area.

Later I would learn from my companion that I had been labeled as "trouble" by the other "trainers" because I had dared to question the Mission President. My companion laughed it off from the other "trainers" because he liked the "challenge" of having a companion who was "too smart for his own good."

Thanks for sharing that snippet of the beginning of your mission. Similar to mine.

Of course one thing that hurt my chances at 'promotion' in the mission was I didn't ask the mission president questions during our interviews. I didn't bother because I knew from past experience and from talking to others that the mission president would only reflect the question right back at me and have me work out an answer myself, so I figured why bother going through the exercise when I could just do it myself.

So it was so funny when one Elder who'd been a Jr for a long time was lamenting his fate and another jaded Elder and myself quipped that if he wanted to move up the ranks he should ask the mission president how he could be a better missionary. Next transfer he made Sr and was training and quickly afterwards he moved up DL and then ZL. He credits it all to that question. :P

So no questions to the MP, huh?? Raptor, what time frame were you on mission?? I'll bet you that LDS church doesn't like the internet too much because sites such as this one can be located very easily. Oh well.

And, no, you don't question.

Don't you step out of line.

Don't you step out of line!

this is a cool topic! i have extensively traveled in the US and rode a bike over 700 miles in Europe(Luxemburg up the Mosel to the Rhine...over to Amsterdam and then on to Belgium and accrodss the mts. of France.... at least as far as seeing another country... that is really cool and learning another language can be stimulating! das es ser gutt!! (or something like that) :)



Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 04/25/2011 09:05PM by bignevermo.

That's the nice thing about Germans. Close enough with their language was good enough.

with you. Unlike the French who, if you misconjugate one verb, act like you suddenly switched to Farsi or something.

I was never a missionary, I was stationed in Germany for four glourious, wonderful years in the Army. I wasn't mormon yet, either, so I was fully able to avail myself of the pleasures of that beautiful country.

I LOVED it. I want to go back someday. :)

It's funny that you point out how to move up in the mission leadership. Myself I was a Jr companion for about 14 or 15 months then every transfer I was getting some kind of "promotion." I never trained, but I made it to a ZL before going home. I never changed anything about myself or how my interviews went with my MP. I'm not sure why he "promoted" me I wasn't a very good missionary and had mediocre success at best. The one thing I had going for me is I never lied to the guy so that is probably what he respected. I always told him when we were lazy or broke the rules.

The culture of the MTC teaches Elders one very specific lesson - watch everything that everyone else does and compare yourself to everyone else. While packing, everyone had a chance to look over everyone else's and comment.

"What's that?"

"Why did you bring that?"

"Are you going to take that with you?"

"How did you fit everything into THAT bag?"

"How full is YOUR luggage?"

"How much stuff are YOU taking?"



You should have hidden your Fleshlight in the secret missionary compartment in your luggage? (This is an obvious attempt at a poor joke...)



Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 04/26/2011 12:29AM by tensolator.

Makes me so glad I decided never to go on a mission. Great story, I find that for almost everyone who wants to talk about how great their mission was, there is at least one guy that will say something about how terrible it was too

hero7 Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> Makes me so glad I decided never to go on a
> mission. Great story, I find that for almost
> everyone who wants to talk about how great their
> mission was, there is at least one guy that will
> say something about how terrible it was too

Yeah I got lucky, my mission was not too bad and aside from a few companions I had a blast, but I know others that just had a miserable experience with their mission. My mission was not that obedient though, going to the beach, watching movies, water skiing, etc were pretty common things to happen. Funny thing it was usually members who insisted we go with them or participate.

We also always had fairly large gatherings at a central location and just hung out. Wasn't unusual to have a group of 8+ missionaries together once or twice a week. We would spend days together before everyone would go back home. In some areas our daily schedule was to go pickup the elders in the bike area and hang out. Lets just say that the mileage reported on any Church cars sold from my mission would be VERY inaccurate.

Silly, unworthy me, I thought I was going to be in a super Christlike situation, not a hard ass, authoritarian, high-pressure sales, conform-a-thon. I tried to imagine how Jesus treated his disciples. I couldn't find the part of the Bible where he dressed down Thomas as a slothful, unworthy idiot for raising his hand and asking, "But wait, how do I know it's really you?"

So few MPs have any real people skills, so they resort to terror and bullying. Others are just egomaniacal assholes. Some, like mine, are both, with the addition of short bald man's syndrome.

But hurray for the jerks in LDS leadership positions, because they helped kick me down the path to apostasy. "If Jesus is really running the church, then how did men like this end up in charge?"

yes, while investigating the missionaries informed me that they do not let the mp aware that people as myself canceled or postponed b/c it'd make it appear that they weren't doing their job.Is that how it is with the MP? How can you blame them for the inv. changing their minds. If a consumer changed his/her mind when purchasing a product, it's not blamed on anyone.

It's an institution powered by guilt. The guilt doesn't even need to be justified. In fact, justifiable guilt isn't nearly as powerful as unjustified guilt. Your inability to see the justification means you're SO far removed from righteousness that you MUST have GOBS unacknowledged sin, which you should feel guilty about. You should feel guilty for not feeling guilty.

But in the real world of high-pressure sales (which is what Mormonism is) the salespeople DO get blamed when the customer back out. IT means the salesperson wasn't good enough. If you haven't already, watch "Glengarry Glen Ross."

I had a job once, where i was in mgmt. the company happened to have been in chapter 11 br. ,so things were tense. However, if you didn't get a "tale chewing" that day you were concerned about "job security" but @ least you did get a paycheck as well as get to leave for the day. There's not even pay,etc. in it for the guys and gals and they still have to succumb to "tale chewings", ugh.....

will do. just googled it(the title) and there are several links to it... tks. much.

We had just been taught about BKP's 'Fake it til you make it' method of developing a testimony at the MTC.

Afterwards I went to the MTC President's office, and asked him 'whether taking the role of the Devil's Advocate, couldn't this be seen as just brainwashing ourselves?'.

His response was that the MTC was not the place for taking the role of the Devil's Advocate.

Do you think that this flagged me up as a trouble maker? :)



(note: I went to the London MTC where we met and was taught by the MTC President most days, so it wasn't quite as scary as I imagine it would be in Provo!)

RJ - Correct me if I'm in left field here, but it seems the experience in the MTC had escalated from day 1 to the time you left into certain degree of mental instability. Is that saying it nicely? You would have needed two weeks off in the Bahama's to have acclimatized yourself to the MP and his loogans.
I had the good fortune of going to Basic Training, Ft. Campbell KY., and Ft. Sil OK, before leaving. Nothing like a little military training to help you sieve the wheat from the chaff.
I BS'ed my way through both years and had an excellent time. I'll post it some time, Scotland was hilarious back in the early 70's. Sorry you suffered so.

I didn't want to go, but growing up in the church with "every worthy young man will go on a mission" meant that you either went or weren't worthy.

Or there was something TERRIBLY wrong with you.

And to be fair, I was already kind of nuts before I went, and my personality wasn't a good match for missionary life. I was too much of a perfectionist but also despised the rigidity of it. So I couldn't slack off or take it easy, but I also could never do anything exactly right because perfection towards the rules didn't bring me any success and it didn't bring much peace after awhile.

But again there was that "every worthy young man will go on a mission" and at the time I was a believer - a very firm believer.

So....yeah, the whole situation was not set up well for me.