Saturday morning, a member of our ward called to remind us of a ward service project that Tiffany and I notoriously forgot about until her phone call. Our informant told us that the ward was cleaning the church building at that moment...but she couldn't come. We rushed to get ready and run out the door. My thought process--(Make-up: no. Hair: no. Deodorant: yes. Shoes: on. Grab some bread for breakfast while walking. Done.)When we got to the church, we noticed a couple sets of missionaries waiting outside the gate I think--(Obviously the activity didn't start on time, but Chilean time--20 mins later, duh.) Then shortly after--(Why didn't I at least comb my hair?) Within a few minutes, another set of missionaries come. (hmmm. What are they doing here? This is just our ward service activity.) Then a few more missionaries come and paranoia begins to set in (Wait. What are we doing here?! Are we in the right place?!) and (Good thing I didn't skip the deodorant part.)
The ward activity turned into a zone service project with the help of "the gringas" and the relief society president. Tiffany and I dutifully cleaned the bathrooms, while the missionaries tackled the exterior, the classrooms and everything else. A game of soccer followed and a bbq that the missionaries invited Tiffany and I to join.
The whole time, I couldn't help but think..."One of these things is not like the others,
One of these things just doesn't belong,
Can you tell which thing is not like the others
By the time I finish my song?"
