Missionary Moments

The last of the awkward pictures with my dearest cousin, Sisar Schellenberg. She happens to be in a land far distant presently. Namely, Finland. She and I had a great comradry at the MTC West Campus. Notwithstanding that we couldn't do more than a handshake, it was fantastic to see her as often as I did. We were even in the same zone, and had lunch together on many such occasions.

It would be sinful to ignore the picture by the 'big map'. It's sooo cliche, but it was something needing to be done. Likewise, we made the trip to main campus for a photo. Yep. That happenend.

Tuesday night devotionals at the Marriott Center are unmatched. First, we walk about 1 mile to the Marriott Center from Wyview. Next we sing in the MTC choir, consisting of about 1,500 missionaries from everywhere, going everywhere. Then, some incredible speaker addresses us. And finally, the American Fork High School alumni meet at Portal C to mix, mingle, and linger longer.

This week's random landscape-filler-picture consists of a full moon. And that's about the entirety of it.

Vellai Eckel is (was) one of our language instructors. He took leave to resume school in his pursuits of Optometry during the fall semester. He is seriously the greatest teacher of Albanian on the face of the planet. So we were most blessed to have him for 7 of the 9 weeks here. I hear that we'll be having a native Albanian replace him for the last few days. We'll see how that goes...

Day Elder and myself got to host missionaries this week. It was pretty exciting, if I do say so myself. It was an ocean of 'dork-dots' (orange stickers indicating first day fresh missionary status) that swarmed the West Campus. We walked them to their apartments, dropped luggage, and threw them without hesitation into language instruction. Kind of neat to be a part of a missionary's first day.

You've Got a Friend in Agim

My head hurts.  Albanian is tough!

Dear Family,

Unless I mention otherwise, just assume I´m doing well. In my letters home, I´ll try my best to skip the muha-betë (small-talk), because quite frankly, it's very routine and mostly uninteresting to write. So when I jump to whatever my weekly subject is, don't worry: I'm alive and the church is still true.

As a highlight of my week, I made contact with my first Albanian, or rather he made contact with me. His name is Agim, and he happened to come across my blog. He is a member from Albania who's presently on vacation in Florida, and he sent me a letter on Monday. It was probably the funniest thing I've ever read: He begins by addressing me, "I dashurplaku Gunther", which equates to "My dearest old man." Then he proceeds to tell me what his story is and how he found me. Next, he tells me his impression of me, which translates to "You seem to be learning the Albanian language well, but you appear to me to be prideful." Yep. That's an Albanian for you. They speak their mind, 100% honest and straightforward to even strangers. Well, the letter was written entirely in Albanian, which includes the absence of punctuation. And he must have been from the North, either Tirana or Shkoder, because it's part of the northern dialect to drop the second half of most words. So I had an Elder Calhoun moment as I read it aloud, "Elder, what language was he speaking? . . . 'Cause that ain't the language they taught me in the MTC." My language instructors mention at least once daily that if I happen to serve in the North, I'll be speaking, comparatively, the New Orleans rendition of English. And to finish, Agim expressed his individualistic love for me. Well, from this I drew an extraordinary enthusiasm to serve the people of Albania. 3 weeks couldn't be further away.

As another note, Richard G. Scott addressed us at Tuesday night's devotional. It was beyond awesome. He is beyond awesome. This gospel is beyond awesome.

On Thursdays, in 45 minutes, actually, we do what's called the TRC (teaching resource center). Basically what happens is you go and teach members who aren't playing a role, but just being themselves as members. And the entire 40 minute lesson is in Albanian. It is much more difficult than teaching pretend investigators, because you've got to change your approach and vocabulary for individuals who know gospel principles already. So I'm stoked. But mostly afraid. And I'm hoping to see Albert Behling, because he promised to visit the TRC while I was here, but I haven't seen him yet. So we'll see how things play out. And also, I really just want to serve in Shkoder or Kosovo. That was totally unrelated. But I had to get it out there. I'm a fan of the northern Gheg dialect. So if you would, pray that I get sent to where God needs me most. Because the areas in Albania are so diverse. And I have preferences already.

Well, missionary work thus far has proven to be the epitome of boring and the climax of happiness. 16 hours of daily exhaustion would only ever be satisfactory if this gospel were true. And it is true. Jesus Christ is the Savior. Thomas S. Monson is the Prophet. God is the Father. Missionary service is the grandest adventure. And 'happily-ever-after' is more than a fictitious finale to a fairytale.

I. Love. You.

Elder Benson Ryan Gunther

Shqiperia (Albania) - It literally translates to "Land of the Eagle People".

Thanks for the Reese's Puffs.  I thoroughly enjoyed them

That there is one nice leaf

The Hope of the Adriatic States ( Kosovo, Albania, Macedonia)

Me and Shoku im (my companion) Tuesday Night Devotional.

Weekly Sunset Picture - Sunsets are great as a missionary.

Thanks Elder Day.  You caught me at the peak of my best smiles ever.

P-Days and a Game of Pride

My recent obsession -  buying copies of the Book of Mormon in languages commonly spoken throughout the now 3 countries of my mission.
(Turkish, Italian, Slovenian, Greek, Croatian, Albanian)

Dear Family:

All is well in the MTC. Thank you for your prayers on my behalf. You wouldn't imagine how close to you I feel at times, and it's more than just the 15 or so miles that separate us. I wish that I could expound upon every moment, miracle, and otherwise magic that happens as a missionary. But then I realize how bland and boring autobiographies are; so I'll write, instead, a collection of short stories accompanied with pictures to keep your attention. Please excuse my poor English- the majority of my speaking is now about the level of an Albanian 6th grader, rather than the former English university student. As a side note, you know your language skills are coming quickly when you struggle to remember an English word but know the Albanian equivalent instantly. I'm at that standard often, actually, as of late. And please don't think I'm bragging- I don't even deserve half the credit anyway.

Well, P-days are anything but what I'd expected before coming to the MTC. Thursdays, my scheduled preparation day, begin at 4:30am. I get up and get to work on an unreasonably long check-list. I have an average of 15-20 letters to write, of which 100% are merely responses to letters I've gotten throughout the week. Next, I do two loads of laundry; sweep, vacuum, and straighten my apartment; do 1 hour of Zone-wide service; iron shirts, shine shoes, change sheets; make a trip up to main campus; get a bite to eat, then back to work. Though not every item I mentioned is outlined as a rule by the missionary handbook, I know what needs to be done, I do it. Some missionaries confuse the word preparation with relaxation or naptime, but I for one choose it to be more synonymous with W.O.R.K.

As I'm reading over what I've written, and the remainder of what I plan to write, I get the feeling that my entries are largely a list of complaints. So I apologize if I sound whiny.

Something that's been weighing on my mind lately is the subject of pride. As a missionary, and as my mission plaque scripture states, "He who is ordained and sent forth, the same is appointed to be the greatest, notwithstanding he is the least and the servant of all." (D&C 50:26) Often times I shrug off the latter. Especially when it comes to language competency. With 13 others trying to learn Albanian along side me, I feel subconsciously threatened, as if it were some sport or something. I like competition. I like to win. So I get a little too excited during language instruction and study. And especially with my supposed expectations: In the language game, Sisar Schellenberg is distantly leading the Finnish. And Day Elder is uncontested amidst the Hungarians. So I feel this inner hunger for fluency with unjustifiable cause. And then I get over the top and lose the spirit for my selfish intentions. In short, I am not a perfect missionary. But I'm trying to be a good one. So with the help of the periodic reminders and constant availability to repent, I might turn out all right. You'd be surprised at how much upheld missionaries are by the Atonement. Namely me.

In other news, Montenegro has been removed from the Adriatic South Mission and aligned in the Adriatic North boundaries. Kind of a let down. But who else can say they're serving in 3 countries? Well, I love you all and wish I had enough time to tell you each individually. My mission is 5% over in about 12 hours. Time flies. Don't blink. I'll be home in a shutter of an 
eyelid.

Love,

Elder Benson Gunther

P.S. The number of pictures seems to be following a pattern of exponential decay. And they're not professional nor hardly related to my letters home. I'm trying my best to keep on top of it. But nonetheless, please enjoy them, keeping in mind I am an amateur photographer.

The Snack Shak - aka Wyview Creamery

Doing Laundry on P-day

Provo morning sunrise.  It's best when you're a missionary

Picture with Sisar Schellenberg and Day Elder.  Two of my closest friends- still awkward not being able to hug Sisar Schellenberg (cousin)

Limitless cereal in the new cafeteria.  The bane of my existence.

Also, varieties of juice in the new cafeteria.  Including POG.

Furthermore, soda.  I weighed myself yesterday - 151.
 I was 128 after my tonsil surgery.

(Cousin) Elder Jackson Gunther and Benson Gunther.
 Final farewell for two years.

Already August?

Clouds 'n Sunrise.  Same one you see every day.

Is it already that time again? I don't check my watch except to label journal entries. Dates mean little more than a frame of reference for my approaching departure date.

Today marks my 30th day since coming to the MTC. I can hardly imagine what's happened at home in such a seemingly extensive period of time. While it's been long here, it feels hardly more than one 16-hour day that's been stretched longer than most could handle. Oh, the work is so monotonous: wake up, get dressed, language study, scripture study, language study, scripture study, exercise, scripture study, bed. Repeat. It is the same EVERY DAY, but every day is a new best day. I wouldn't change it a bit. Funny how exhaustion could ever  be fun.

Sunday marks the half-way point of my MTC stay. Yikes! Will I be ready? I guess there's nothing I can do to stop September 3rd from coming. So I'll run full speed towards the tidal wave.

Because the majority of our work as missionaries is teaching the gospel, we devote a fair share of time to role playing. Day 2 we had our first lesson entirely in Albanian, and of course we used notes, but every lesson since we've taken no aid but our noggans to teach in the language. Presently, I teach two 'Progressing Investigators', Alma and Sidi, who are really my language teachers acting a role common to a typical Albanian. We teach them all principles of the gospel in the sequence they appear in Preach My Gospel, and have already committed both Alma and Sidi to baptism. I know that it's only pretendbut I've never been so thrilled in my life to hear 'Po' (yes). As of late, our lessons last a full 40 minutes, entirely in Albanian.

In case you didn't catch my last message, Albanian is sooo weird. Ne Shqip ( in Albanian) there are twelve ways to say any one noun. English has 2 (Plural and Singular). We have hosts of flow charts, for which each has its exceptions, and there exist exceptions to exceptions, even. Nouns have genders in Albanian (masculine and feminine), then you have to consider if it's definite or indefinite (i.e. the man vs. a man), then decide how many there are, then predict which case it's in (nominative, accusative, dative, genitive, ablative), and check to see which category of preposition it follows, if any. Then you conjure up a half-confident guess to find it's wrong because of some rule in the fine print. And that's just nouns. Don't even get me started on verbs. Without The Gift of Tongues I would be a 6-year-old on Wall Street.

Anyhow, I want to thank everyone for the thoughtful letters and packages. They're 95% responsible for my sanity. They really do make my entire week. I'm a kid in a candy shop when we make our mail-getting excursions.

Missionary life is unprecedented. Amidst ceaseless work, your eyes feel like they're hefting sandbags, your confidence is comparable to oranges being ground into a pulp, and you stress in tenfold that of graduate students on finals week. Then, every once in a while, heaven sends one of those moments that rekindles your passion and gives you a glimpse of Godliness. Miracles happen. Lives change. And with each new day comes a chance to do it again.

I want to leave my testimony of the weighty significance of missionary service. It means so much more when you're actively involved with making it happen. You all have the same chance as me, though perhaps not yet full-time. Every member a missionary. Stand up. Speak out. Do something good. You might make someones day- change their life- I know that you could.

I love you all from the MTC.

Love,

Elder Benson Ryan Gunther

Look who I found at the Tuesday Devotional?  Cousin Elder Jackson Gunther who is going the the Cape Verde Mission.

We gathered together as many missionaries as we could find from American Fork High School at the Tuesday Devotional.

Still no touching Sisar Schellenberg (cousin and dearest friend)

       Packages are 95 %   responsible for my sanity.

I love you.  I miss you!

SHQIP HAPPENS!

The field is white, already to harvest.

At the MTC, they say the days are long and the weeks are short. There couldn't be a better way to describe it. Amidst a slew of sixteen hour days, I often find it practically impossible to keep straight which day is which. By the time lights out comes around, I reflect on the day's activities and am stunned by just how much happens in one day at the MTC: there are as many hours of class instruction as there were during the school year, as many hours of language study as I did homework every day, more time spent teaching progressing investigators than I did at Sunday morning mission prep, and personal study for approximately 4x the average before coming on a mission- all in one day! There's really no time to feel bored on a mission! Not to mention that there's no time to think about myself.

 

Anyhow, most P-days my mission (The Albi's) takes a shuttle up to main campus for things we need that can't be found at West Campus. For example, we went last week to get our hair trimmed at the barber shop, pick up some things from the bookstore, and eat main-campus cafeteria food. The West Campus is currently under construction, but in one week's time should have its own bookstore and cafeteria. We presently eat meals at the Raintree Commons clubhouse, which is much too small to accommodate the now 400+ missionaries at West Campus. Likewise, there is very little refrigerator space, so we have meals that don't require heating for breakfast and lunch every day. And the variety is very limited: breakfast is the same every morning: donuts, cereal, muffins, bagels, and bananas; and lunch is the choice between salad a and sandwich b, every day. A lot of missionaries complain about the food, but I for one love it. Sure, there's not a ton of variety, but it's incredibly tasteful (especially the morning maple bars- they're irresistible!) And those missionaries that murmur will have their wish in just a week, hot food three meals a day.

 

Aside from the food, which isn't even that bad, I am soooo lucky to be at the West Campus. I enjoy a quarter-mile walk to and from Raintree 3-4 times a day, the atmosphere is much more calm, I see Day Elder and Sisar Schellenberg EVERYWHERE, and a fair portion of our day is spent outside in the beautiful Raintree Commons. I am seriously privileged.

 

Well, I think I'll try to focus my attention on the language this week. Shqip (Albanian, hence the title) is probably the strangest language on the earth right now. And yesterday my language instructor told us that Albanaina will be extinct in 100 years or so- so few people speak it (really just Albanians and Kosovars) and the new generation of Albanians are learning English and Italian, and will probably not teach their children Shqip. So I suppose we'll see, down the road my fluency may be rare and even valuable.

 

The language makes me laugh- sometimes it sounds like I'm speaking Spanish because of the way we roll our double R's, other times it sounds french because of the vowel pronunciation and flow, and other times it sounds Chinese because of the selection of nouns and consonant abundance. So betwixt the confusion, I am appalled by the beauty and unique nature of the language.

 

So do you remember before how I said that Albanian has no traceable origin? I couldn't have been more wrong. I'm confident I've cracked it. It is my theory that Albanian stems directly from theTower of Babel in Jaredite times. At the time of the language confusion, I think God selected his most intelligent  children and gave them the responsibility to speak the most difficult language on the earth. It's seriously that hard. That beautiful. That strange.

 

So, in English we conjugate verbs. In Albanian, however, we conjugate verbs, nouns, adjectives, pronouns, demonstratives, articles, and prepositions. So I've committed to memory about 50 or so grammar charts. And there are so many exceptions to each rule that my brain hurts. bad. Furthermore, to add to Albanian's uniqueness, we have a language principle called clitics, which is specific to Albanian only- no other language in the world has them! And they are oh so difficult. They vary with case, noun definity, object-verb relation, plurality, and sentence structure. In example, in English when you'd say "I gave you a dozen donuts" in Albanian you'd say "I them to you gave a dozen donuts to you". I don't expect you to understand any of this- just hope that you appreciate it's tough.

 

And the Albanian alphabet is strange as can be: in addition to the 26 Latin letters we have, Albanian also has a c-tail and e umlaut. And no W. And 9 more consonant clusters that make the strangest sounds. For example, XH makes the j sound, as in Jenna. Weird, right?

 

Well, because you're probably bored of my linguistic nonsense, just know that the language is no barrier for me. It's more of a high school girl's height steeplechase hurdle. And I could hop those all day. That doesn't go without mentioning the sweat I exert, however. And really, all the credit deserving recognizing should be attributed heaven-ward. The Gift of Tongues is oh so real. No doubt. I pray in Albanian. I bear testimony in Albanian. I teach 5 40-minute lessons each week in Albanian. And yesterday I spoke Albanian the entire day. Ship happens. 'Nuf said.

 

I love you more than time permits me to mention. 3 weeks down. 101 to go.

 

'Til we meet,

 

Elder Benson Gunther

...yes it does

A small portion of what I've learned.

A haircut at the Main MTC Campus

I decorated my apartment balcony.

I can see my future home from my present home.

Me and Elder Gunther

Me and Elder Baldwin

The Provo Temple

Me and my companion Elder Richards

All 14 of us "Albi's"

 

Wow... Week #2 at the MTC

It feels like it's been an eternity since I last wrote you. So I'll do my best to fill you in. And before I forget, because it's no longer my first week as a missionary, my correspondence has been limited to p-days only. The Brethren have asked that missionaries communicate with family and friends only on preparation day. As my call letter states, I am "Expected to devote all my time and attention to servin the Lord, leaving behind all other personal affairs." At first this rule to write home only once a week caused me a lot of worry because I receive many thoughtful letters from friends and family, and I think it would be inconsiderate not to reply. Nevertheless, I've found a way to be obedient whilst still managing my fair share of writing. So I woke up at 4am this morning to tackle the large load. And I'll strive to do my best to write home as much as time and rules permit

Because my time is so limited, I'll focus my letter each week on one aspect of my missionary service. I don't think I could discuss even a hundredth of what happens, but I figure that piece by piece you might get an idea of what it's like to be a missionary.

 

6:00am- Arise, Pray, Shower, Plan/Prepare

6:45- Eat breakfast in former Raintree Commons club-house

7:15- Class instruction for three hours (language and teaching fundamentals)

10:15- Language review/study

11:20- Lunch

12:05- Class instruction for three hours (language and teaching fundamentals)

3:05- Language review/study

4:20- Dinner

5:25- Gym time

6:15- Shower and prepare

6:45- TALL (Tecchnology assisted language learning)

7:45- Personal Study

8:45- Additional Study

9:30- Daily Review, write in journal

10:15- Quiet time

10:30- Lights out

 

This is, in a nutshell, what happens pretty much every day aside from Sunday (because it's the sabbath), Tuesday (Devotional @ Marriott Center), and Thursday (P-day). Pretty dang exciting, huh?

 

Anyhow, this work is the happiest and most satisfying on the face of the earth. The days are remarkably hard and long - 16 hours of straight sacrifice - but I wouldn't have it any other way. I love that I'm beginning to find myself - Ironic, though it may be, because I'm not really looking. I'm already nervously anticipating the flight back to the United States. I don't want to leave this service. Not now. Not ever. I love you! I miss you more than you'd imagine.

 

Love,

 

Elder Benson Gunther

Me and my companion Elder Richards

My apartment - #19
I am on the second floor

The 4 Room mates:  Elder Gunther, Elder Richards, Elder Ostergaard, Elder Acheson

Apartment living room

Apartment Kitchen

Apartment Hallway

Bedroom

The Raintree apartments are used for our classrooms

Class room filled with Elders from my mission

This is our classroom!

Even the bathrooms are MTC-ized

Elder Day and Elder Cox have class in the classroom next door to ours.  They are both AF alumni

Raintree cafeteria

Typical MTC lunch

Typical MTC breakfast

Enjoying our lunch outside.

Typical MTC dinner

I love getting packages from home!

Missionaries from the Adriatic South mission out for a Sunday walk

I ran in to my good friends Elder Ty Young and Elder Braden McLelland at the Devotional on Tuesday.

Rules are tight - can't even touch Sisar Schellenberg (my cousin)
Elder Day and I still enjoy seeing each other daily

We sing in the choir for Tuesday Devotionals