This is Why I Love Living in Italy

Yesterday, my American friend Hailey came to church with me. She was a great trooper going to a strange church in Italian for three hours. After church my dear friend Yefrey (he is honestly the nicest person ever) invited us to his house for lunch.

We had a splendid time talking while eating the delicious food his Mother and Aunt made us...


playing on Yefrey’s accordion and authentic African drum (which as super rad. Bryce, Tanner, and Wesley: you could still see the cow hair on the side of the drum. And it made the coolest sound ever! I was really tempted to borrow it and make some money by banging on it near the metro stops...)


and then we listening to his Aunt and Mother sing...


And let me tell you, they were SO good. It was a diverse and fun filled day, but the best part was still to come. On the spur of the moment Yefrey said that he wanted to take us to Bracciano, a lake just outside Rome surrounded by three beautiful and quaint towns. So we got in the car and drove there. How lucky am I to be living so close to these beautiful places?!? After just thirty minutes of driving, we found ourselves next to a church castle, in a charming, classic Italian town next to the cleanest lake I had ever seen.

Yefrey and I next the lake

Hailey and I pinching ourselves just trying to believe we are really here

Hailey and I next to the darling, yet aggressive swans. Notice the lights in the background from one of the other towns around the lake. It was beautiful to see the lights of the two other towns glistening in the distance.

A small yet sweet piazza we thought was cute

Hailey and I in Bracciano's main Piazza with the castle in the background.

I feel so blessed to have these beautiful places right at my fingertips. I have to opportunity to go to Napoli this weekend as a day trip. I can spontaneously decide to tour the coliseum again, and I have been able to stand in history. I am blessed to be here.

I am now in love wth Bracciano. It is my second favorite city in Italy so far. If you are coming to Rome, it is a must see side trip. You can bet that this summer I will be spending a whole saturday in the lake and meandering around the town.

My First Christmas Away From Home

Marie and I in front of her Christmas tree on the 24th after we opened gifts.

I stepped off the airplane into the snowy Germany and my eyes filled up with tears. I was so happy to see Marie. Marie was a foreign exchange student at Ashland High School last year and was my best friend in my French 1 class. It felt so good to be with a person I had known in the states. It was so fun to remember the times we spent together at school and the funny things about Ashland. I loved every minute of being with her.

I arrived at the Wasem house on the 24th and loved seeing a freshly decorated Christmas tree. The Christmas excitement and spirit echoed throughout the home. Marie’s Grandparents came over to the house in the evening just in time to walk to church with us. We listened to a Christmas sermon given by the pastor (listened is the key word because I didn’t understand anything) in a beautiful, old little church in their neighborhood. Even though it was freezing cold outside everyone in the town walked to church and walked home after the meeting.

At home Marie’s Mother treated us to a delicious dinner of potatoes, salad, and bread. After dinner was cleaned up, Grandmother brought out a HUGE plate filled with dozens of homemade cookies. She must have been working hard all afternoon because there were more than ten different kinds of delicious cookies on the platter piled high. While sitting around the table in the glow of the lamp we began to open gifts, sneaking a cookie every once in a while. The Wasem family was too kind to me giving me beautiful and thoughtful gifts such as a travel kit and a guide book to Berlin.

Christmas morning the family slept in and for lunch we met up with the cousins, aunt, and uncles at a Greek restaurant. After lunch we drove to the Grandmother’s house where instead of being greeted with cookies, we were greeted with five different kinds of pies. The whole day was spent eating, talking, and relaxing on the couch.

The highlight of my Christmas day was talking with my family. The Wasems let me call my family in Oregon and I was able to talk to them while they were all around the Christmas tree. I was sweet to hear their voices.

My German Christmas was very different from Christmas in the states, but I still loved and enjoyed every minute of it. Thank you Wasem family for taking me in like a daughter.

Marie, me, and Eva (Marie's twin sister)

First Things First

First I have to thank the dear Wasem family for making this the best Christmas away from home as possible. There were too sweet to me. The entire family (including the Grandparents) took me in and made me feel loved. The Wasem family did a great job humoring my desire to see all of Germany. They took me to castles, showed me the Berlin, Munich, and Trier. They dove to the airport on their Christmas day to pick me up and when seeing me off woke up at 4am to make me breakfast. They even let me spend one day feeling like I was in Ashland again (that post coming soon). And above all, they went on too many long and cold English tours.

I love this family. My heart is filled with gratitude to have them as a permanent part of my life now. I cried so hard when I had to leave them. They really went out of their way for me. They have a special place in my heart and I will never forget the true kindness they showed me on my first Christmas alone. Thank you Wasem family for being examples of selflessness and true love to me.

What Matters Most

Last Monday night I was sleeping on a travel bus full of Italian Mormons on our way to Bern Switzerland. I had been looking forward to this trip for a long time. Everything was planned out perfectly. I would do temple work in the morning and each afternoon visit a different city in Switzerland; I even had a cities picked out.

After a LONG night (13 hours!) we arrived in Bern around 8am. I excitedly grabbed my little green carry on, put it in the lobby (the rooms were not ready), found an elderly missionary couple who wanted to join me, and headed to the center of Bern.

We had a delightful afternoon (details coming soon) but when we got back to the temple hostel I found myself rushing to be ready to enter the temple at 1:00. The next morning I slipped out of my door at 5:30 prepared to head off to another city. The train ticket, like everything else in Switzerland, was as expensive as ever, and I found myself rushing through the tour and worried about getting back in time.

That afternoon I thought about the real reason I was in Switzerland and contemplated on how to make the most of my short time in the temple. Lesson learned: preparing oneself to enter into the house of the Lord is vital. I was only in the temple for about 2 and a half hours each day, but the rest of my time was spent spiritually preparing myself. I won’t go into details or bear my testimony on this blog, but I will say it was a life changing experience. I had time to ponder, prepare, make fabulous friendships, pray, be with people who held my standards, read, laugh with wholesome young adults, and rejuvenate my spirit.

I learned what matters most in life. Traveling, experiencing, and tasting the world is great and teaches us so much. However, nothing can compensate for or teach us more than the temple, our scriptures, and holy pray. This week I focused on what really matters and I see a change in my life.

Blessed

Two weeks ago I found myself sitting in a church pew all alone not being able to comprehend anything. After asking the missionaries a few questions, I realized that in the ward of 30 members no one spoke English and no one was my age. I had previously hoped that church would be a great way to meet people and get connections in the city. In addition I needed to have interviews with my Bishop so I could attend the temple and reapply to BYU. I didn’t know what to do. I felt in total despair.

Last week as I was preparing for church I meticulously thought about what time I needed to wake up in order to be out the door by 8am. I chose to set my alarm for 7:30 not realizing that I would not have time to shower, dress, pack for the day, and eat by 8:00. Although I thought the scenario through three times the time issues didn’t come to mind. The next morning I woke, and thinking I had an hour and a half, slowly began to get ready. At 8:10 Meirav knocked on my door and told me the time. I didn’t even wince thinking I still had 50 more minutes. 15 minutes later, I came downstairs in shock, having realized how late I was going to be.

I ran to the bus, took the train and then metro and then walked the rest of the way to church until I reached the building at 9:30, half an hour late. My ward started with Relief Society but instead of going to class I felt like I should attend the Sacrament Meeting that was just starting. A sweet woman who speaks English, Teresa, sat with me and made me feel at home. The Sister Missionaries in the ward took great care of me, the three young single adults took me under wing, and the Bishop speaks English. The meeting was wonderful. Teresa stayed with me the whole time, introduced me to people in the ward, gave me her number, and drove me to the Metro after church. I know this is the ward I need to be in.

I couldn’t believe how perfectly things fell into place. Setting the alarm clock for such an absurd time was a ridiculous mistake I don’t think I would have made on my own. Arriving to the church just minutes before Sacrament Meeting began was a miracle. I know I was being guided. I feel so much comfort knowing that my life is being directed. I know I am being watched over.