Days 1,2, and 3

 

Dear Steph:

These next 4 emails will bring you up to speed on the trip so far as I have

typed it.

Subject: South America - Days 1, 2, and 3

Dear Friends:

 

Well, this letter is going out to many friends, so I should bring some of
you up to speed. After 20 years, a great many of my dear friends in
Uruguay, where I served my mission, were getting old, and several had
already passed away, so it was time to go back, whether I had the money or
not. Since we had promised each of our kids a major trip before they
graduate from grade 12, the time was right for Peter to get his trip, so
Barbara and I decided it would be great for Peter to go with me, but that
meant Barbara would not be able to go. Once I put together the itinerary,
Barbara thought it would have been pretty rough anyway.
 
Since we wanted this to be an adventure, I had a rough idea of what I wanted
to see, and Peter approved it, so then it was a matter of fitting all of the
highlights into what we could afford. The major expense was airfare, so
what we ended up doing was shopping around for the cheapest airfare that
would land us somewhere on the circuit of sites we wanted to see, and take
the bus once we were on the ground. The airfare was found to be most
affordable to Sao Paulo, Brazil, and connected via Toronto, then Miami.
 
So, for me, day 1 was leaving here (Chilliwack) at 9:30 PM on Monday, April
17th, 2000. I drove as far as I could, slept for about 4 hours, and got to
Magrath at 5:00 PM on Tuesday. That was my first night not in a bed.
 
We packed up Peter's back pack, and figured out what I could not fit in my
back pack, and left that in the trunk of the car. Our flight left Calgary
at 1:30 AM (talk about a red eye flight), and since we had no surplus money
for this trip at all, I had phoned up Gerry & Bonnie Nickyforuk and arranged
to leave our car with them (his email address, for all my brothers and
sisters to put him on their lists, is "sergandpep@hotmail.com" which is his
cats, Serge & Pepper). It had been way too long since I had heard any news
from Nick's family, and it was great to have some time with them, however
short. His mom, Pauline, is doing much better...there were some tense times
for a while. Leaving the car there saved us about $200 in long-term
parking. That night on the plane was my second night without a bed.
 
We arrived in Toronto at 7:45 AM local time Wednesday, and it was a very
short lay-over. All we had to do was retrieve our luggage, and clear
customs before leaving Canada. We left for Miami at 10:20 AM for Miami.
 
When I mentioned to Maurine that we had a lay-over in Miami, she reminded me
that Uncle Glen lived near Miami, so we phone Aunt Orva Tuesday on the cell
phone and got Uncle Glen's number. We called him (almost 10:30 PM Miami
time) and found out that by chance he had the day off, was going to be just
finishing a dental appointment as we arrived, and he could meet us and have
us up to his house for a long over-due visit. After I hung up (Glen will
get a kick out of this) I asked Peter if we had ever told him that Uncle
Glen was gay or not. Peter goes, WHAT? I have a gay uncle? It was a great
visit. Peter napped a lot while Glen and I gabbed and caught up on old
times. I really enjoyed it. Glen and Duane and a few more of their friends
have a trip to China planned for August that will give them a Vancouver
lay-over, so we will look them up then again. I really enjoyed meeting
Glen's "lawn lady". She does their lawn work, and must be 60'ish or more,
and has a sense of humour like Robin Williams. She came right at the end of
our steak dinner and I haven't laughed so much over dessert for a very long
time. Uncle Glen had a "clothing optional" swimming pool in his back yard,
and Peter and I had both taken our swim suits, but I was too busy visiting,
and Peter was too busy napping to swim. We were holding out for the beaches
in Brazil and Uruguay.
 
The plane left for Brazil at about midnight, and arrived in Sao Paulo at
8:50AM local time, so that was my third night without a bed. Our first
target was to get to Uruguay for Easter Sunday, so we didn't waste any time
in getting to the bus terminal. This bus terminal in Sao Paulo would rival
the biggest train stations in Europe, taking up 2 city blocks with 4
platforms and 80 "gates". It was incredible. We bought our tickets to
Porto Alegre and had about 3 hours to kill, so we took a walk looking for
this shopping centre we had seen on the drive in. We were warned in the
"travel books" that the bus terminals are not built in the best
neighbourhoods... and they were right. I am just glad it was 10AM instead
of 10PM. We found the shopping center, eventually (rough getting directions
in Portuguese when I only speak Spanish), just in time to realize that we
needed to be getting back to the bus terminal, but it was enough for Peter
to fully realize that we "weren't in Kansas anymore Toto", as if the heat of
Miami wasn't enough to realize Canada had been left behind.
 
Between the Airport Service from the Sao Paulo GRU airport (one of three
airports) in the Northeast corner, and the bus trip on it's way to Porto
Alegre, it took three hours to cross to the Southeast corner, mostly on
freeways. The city had to be 200 kilometers across, and I guess it takes
some space to cram 13 million people into a city. We had not planned on
seeing the Sao Paulo temple, since I had no idea where to look for it, nor
how to ask directions, but the bus stopped for some traffic congestion on
the way out of the city, and I looked out the window, and saw the Sao Paulo
temple! What a bonus.
The rest of the trip to Porto Alegre took until 10 AM on Good Friday (18
hours on the bus, and my 4th night without a bed). All in all, in 15 days,
we would travel 5,000 kilometers and spend 72 hours on buses (4 nights). In
addition to that, there were 28 hours on the airplanes (3 nights). We would
visit 6 countries (including Canada and the USA) and see 16 cities that
Peter had never been in before.
More about Porto Alegre in the next letter.
Love,

Lester

 

Day 3 and 4 

Subject: Day 3 & 4 - Porto Alegre, Brazil to Fraile Muerto, Uruguay

 

 

Dear Friends:

 

Well, after arriving in Porto Alegre on Good Friday, April 21st, we had
about 4 hours to kill before the next 8 hour bus ride began, so we looked up
what there was to see as per our "Brazil Travel Book", and decided to go see
the cathedral. Well, it was quite a typical city, for South America, except
we found a MacDonald's on the plaza. After leaving the MacDonald's we saw
this lady stand up from squatting next to the flower bed, and pull up her
underwear from around her ankles. Okay, so things are pretty casual down
there. As we walked back to the bus terminal, we saw a sign painted on a
wall on one of the side streets that read "Favor Nao Urinar Neste Local"
(which means, "Please don't pee here on this wall"). Well, I guess that
serves them right for charging to use a public toilet down there.
 
After the 8 hour bus ride to Yaguaron, the border town with Uruguay, it was
getting late, like about 8PM, and already dark, so we trotted across the
international bridge to Rio Branco, Uruguay, only to find out that the last
bus left 30 minutes before. Well, we were prepared to stay in a Hotel or
Pension (boarding house), but alas, they were all full due to Good Friday
celebrations in Yaguaron. They told us in Rio Branco that Yaguaron had more
Hotels, so we walked the 2 kms back across the bridge (and said hello to the
border patrol again). Well, that was a waste of time and energy because
they were all very full too, so we went back to the border patrol to see if
we could use their phone.
 
The lady was very helpful, but the chapels don't
have phones, so they aren't listed in the phone books, and neither are the
Bishops. I tried the Mission home, but there was no answer, so just as I
was getting desperate, the border lady came in and mentioned that a
co-worker told here where the chapel was, and she gave us some very direct
instructions, but it was about 2 kms further into town. At the first sign
of people, we asked if we were on the right track. He had no idea, so the
next group was about 5 youth between 10 and 13 years of age. They assured
us the chapel was just 2 or 3 blocks ahead, and 2 blocks to the left, so we
thanked them (it was good to be speaking Spanish instead of Portuguese), but
as we walked away, a young boy named Victor came up on his bike and offered
to show us exactly where the Elders lived, they were just down the street
from his house. Well, the Elders weren't in, so he took us over to the
chapel, but it had been closed down for the night (they are all gated in
down there), so we went back to the Elders.
 
Victor said he would just go
check at the Olivera's house for us, while we went on up to the Elders flat,
and sure enough, they were not back yet, but here comes Victor, telling us
that he found them at the Olivera's, but they wouldn't believe that two
Canadians were looking for them (one was Chileno, the other from Venezuela).
Well, I had taken about 10 $2 coins with me for souvenirs for people who
were especially helpful, so I had given one to Victor, so he pulled this
toonie out to prove to the elders that he was telling the truth. Well,
these Elders were "by the book", and they thought they had better phone the
Pres to get permission to let us sleep on their floor. I thought, "Good,
this will be okay because I had sent email to Pres Timothy Olsen, and he
knew I was coming, but NO, mission policy is that nobody except missionaries
stay in their quarters, and we were told to contact the Bishop. Well, by
now we had walked over 8 kms with fully loaded back packs and it was 10 PM
(the phone "booth" was a km away), so the Bishop was in bed, but he got up
and came out on the street to talk to us. He asked what I could show him to
verify who we were, so I pulled out my temple recommend. He hesitated, then
asked what I was doing in an out-of-the way-place like Rio Branco, which is
not exactly on the way to anywhere except country side (his name was Bishop
 
Cacho Coimbra). When I told him about my mission 20 years ago, and the fact
that the most special people in Uruguay to me lived in Fraile Muerto, he
said, "And who would that be?" I told him about Altamir and Elia Pereira,
whom I had baptized, and he said "I knew Altamir Pereira very well", and he
invited us in to eat something while we talked more. I had baptized Altamir
in 1980, and within days he had been ordained a Priest, then an Elder, and
within 73 days was branch president. Bishop Coimbra had joined the church
in 1986, and within 95 days was branch president, and he met Altamir at all
of the leadership meetings in Melo, and they shared much in common. He had
no foam or spare beds at all, but we could shower (after 4 days without
changing clothes), and sleep on the floor. It was a ceramic tile floor, and
very hard, but after seeing a 4 inch cockroach on the Yaguaron bridge, we
were glad to not be in a city park somewhere, sleeping on the ground. Peter
could not get over the feeling that as he showered, he was making a huge
mess, since the showers are nothing more than a pipe sticking out of the
wall in the bathroom, over top of the toilet, bidette, and sink, and the
water just splashes all over the room. The nicer bathrooms at least have a
sloping floor toward the drain, and these guys had a hot water heater! As
bad as it was on the tile floor, it was a fairly good night, and it was nice
to be horizontal instead of sitting up for the night. We traveled with
sleeping bags, so we didn't need any bedding, and we fashioned pillows out
of our blue jeans and shirts.
 
It was also providential that Bishop Coimbra worked at the local "Cambio"
where money is exchanged. I was able to buy enough pesos to take care of
immediate needs for the next couple of days, (being Easter weekend) and we
were able to catch the 7AM bus the next morning. It wasn't any trouble
waking up for the 7AM bus...my hips were pretty sore from the tile floor,
and Bishop Coimbra got up to see us off. He gave me a picture of the
Montevideo Temple to ensure that Elia had a picture. It was a wonderful
chance meeting, but then, how much was chance, we have to wonder. How Rio
Branco became a ward, while Fraile Muerto was closed, probably has a great
deal to do with the fact that Bishop Coimbra was in his 40's, and Altamir in
his 80's. Since Bishop Coimbra was made branch president, he served for 6
years, then was on the Stake High Council for 3 years, and then they created
the ward and he became the Bishop, where he has served ever since. After
Altamir died, there really was no leadership left in Fraile Muerto. Rio
Branco is about 3 times as big too.
 
On Saturday morning, we went into Melo by bus, had a one hour lay-over to
walk around and get some bread treats for breakfast, and see the Elders
walking around, so then we went to the chapel, saw more Elders (Peter was
able to talk English for a bit). It was then a 40 minute bus ride to Fraile
Muerto, and we even saw some "avestruz" (rhea, or South American ostriches)
on the way.
 
As an aside, I shaved my moustache off after 15 years, and everybody kept
saying they thought we were brothers, or at least that I certainly was not
old enough to be Peter's dad. Hey! That was the whole idea. I wasn't too
sure how Barbara would take it though. I had been thinking about it for a
while, and I thought if I didn't do it before I got a tan, I couldn't do it
until next winter, so I shaved it off when I picked up Peter in Magrath.
More to come later.

Love

Lester

 

 

Subject: Uruguay - Days 4 & 5

 

 

Well, I am waiting for the truck to get back from the "dough run" to the
Pretzel stores, and we will leave for Alberta. To kill time, I will send
the next installment.
 
Drew Weidman, my companion in Fraile Muerto, has been waiting anxiously for
the continuing saga in Fraile Muerto. The big occasion there was how many
of the Trotto family I was able to locate. Drew baptized 3 of the 13 kids
after I left. The 14th was born, Herman, shortly after I left (she was
pregnant), and them #15 came later, Marcel. The very sad news was that Juan
(who was 16 I think, when we were there) had died of a tumor. There was a
lot of controversy over malpractice involved, since the tumor may have been
connected to a medical procedure that had been done. The tumor formed in
his cerebellum and was inoperable. My Spanish is great when talking church
and gossip, but get me into medical or business jargon, and I founder a bit,
so I wasn't grabbing all of the details. He died about 6 years ago. His
mom was so distraught over losing Juan, that her health began to
deteriorate, and although officially she died of something like a severe
stroke or aneurysm type of thing, it was too much of a coincidence that it
happened after Juan died (9 months after) for everybody to ignore as a
coincidence.
 
(this next paragraph is just for Drew Weidman, everybody else can skip it if
they want)
Well, after church on Sunday we went out to visit, and saw Jose (the oldest
Trotto) and Herman heading over to Selva's (the second oldest), so we tagged
along. We had a most enjoyable visit. Jose has 2 girls and lives in Melo,
but was there for the weekend (drives a farm truck with Jaime), Selva
married well, had 4 kids, and divorced, but ended up well heeled with a
beautiful house. She even has an automatic washing machine and a built in
shower stall in her bathroom. Met Milagro, one of her girls, and her boy
came in just as we left. Jorge (now 38) lives in Montevideo. The three
that were baptized are Raquel (lives in Montevideo with 3 kids), Silvana (3
kids and lives in the campana (country), and Yvana (now 28 and 2 kids, lives
in Montevideo, but her son Matias was there at Selva's house for Easter).
Nelson, now 34, lives in Melo. Jaime is still in Fraile, recently married,
with a 2 month old. Alicia is 29 and still in Fraile. Antonio is 25 and
single, still in Fraile. Paulo is 24 and was traveling when we were there.
Ornella, who was 4 and adorable while were there, is now 24 and lives in
Montevideo. Then there is Herman and Marcel (19 & 18) who I met there.
They were REALLY honestly delighted to see me. When I say they were married
, down there, you just don't know...most are living common-law. Marriage is
quite rare, but they fondly remember the times spent with the missionaries.
It was truly a reunion of friends for life, as was every visit we made in
Fraile Muerto. It is no wonder that when I remember my mission, I remember
Fraile Muerto first, and then think, "Oh yeah, I was also in a couple of
other places". Selva had a piano keyboard, and Peter really impressed the
crowd with 8 memorized "modern piano" pieces that everybody recognized.
 
After the Trotto visit we went down the hill next to the railroad tracks to
try to find the house people referred to when I asked about Jose Ferreira.
It was on P-day splits when I spent most of my time with Jose. He was 16
and inactive, and we needed a priest for Sacrament Meeting. He borrowed a
bike and we would go out and pick pecans, or chase avestruz (ostriches),
looking for eggs. He also knew where to test for baptismal locations (they
needed to be deep, because the lady was quite large, so we looked at several
before I decided on in particular. The first place we went, I got half way
across the stream and a snake was coming across toward me, so I quickly
decided not to do any baptisms there. I kept having visions of the serpent
in the Garden of Eden, wondering if breaking some of the rules on page 13 of
 the White Bible (missionary handbook) were cause for "death by snake-bite",
the equivalent of the proverbial "lighting strike". Jose's family life was
rough at best. His father was known as the town drunk, and his nick-name
was "Mas-malo-que-un-Toro" (meaner than a raging bull). They lived in a mud
shack with a leaky thatched roof. Well, Jose and his brother built two
shacks (nicer than their folks was) on the same lot as their mother's (his
dad had the good sense to die about 15 years ago), but only slightly nicer
than the mud and thatch. These had tin roofs and concrete floors, but they
shared the place with the ducks. While we were visiting, a duck made it's
way into the "living" room (it had a TV and a couch, kind of) and went
"splootch" on the floor right at my feet. They looked at each other with
the look on their faces that said "I would normally ignore that, but since
they are here, what should we do?". Their oldest boy, Diego, is 12 and
really deserving of more opportunities than he is going to ever have offered
to him. Good looking and very gentle spirit...I wanted to bring him home,
but...
 
After leaving Jose's (he is common-law with a lady, who I think came with 4
kids), we went down to the beaches. Peter kept asking me why I knew so much
about the best swimming holes. I don't think I sounded too convincing when
I mentioned the "search for the perfect baptismal font". It was just as
beautiful as I remember it. It is a very pretty stream.
 
Didn't even mention church on Easter Sunday. Had Peter & I, Elia, and the
Rodriguez family of 5 (3 boys under 11 yrs). We met in Elia's living room.
Peter learned the sacrament prayer in Spanish and blessed the water, I
blessed the bread, and the "acting" Branch President passed the sacrament.
There are 76 members on the records for the branch, and two families came
out. That town needs a missionary couple in the worst way.
 
Well, the truck is due home in 2 minutes, so I have to be ready to load up
and get on the road to get to the Kelowna store before 8 PM.
 

Love to all,

Lester

Dear Friends:

 

I bet some of you thought I was never going to finish the trip. My brother
Fred does this all the time when he travels, but his company gives him a
laptop computer and he does it on the fly, or from those luxurious Business
Class Lounges with reclining chairs. None of that for Peter and I, who
traveled one class down from the cattle cars, at least on the airplanes.
The buses were great, well, as far as a bus goes, I guess.
 
Well, I left you all Sunday night in Fraile Muerto, but I forgot a couple of
things. Right after church we went out to the cemetery to put fresh flowers
on Altamir's cubby-hole (no burials in the ground down there, just the bone
banks, stacked 5 high). On the way we saw one of the most sought after
sites for Peter...a capybara (carpincho in Spanish)...the worlds biggest
rodent. I have sent a photo, and the capybara in the photo is a two month
old baby. They grow to be 130 cm long and weigh 90 pounds. This guy will
be ready to eat for this family by Christmas. If the photo really drags
some of your computers down, let me know and I will not attach a photo
anymore. For Drew, I will send more photos separately.
 
We had decided that since Peter really didn't go half way around the world
to hear people visit about old times in a language that he didn't
understand, we would get on our way. We got on the bus at 1:00PM Monday,
right after we ate the chicken that Elia had introduced us to on Saturday,
in it's coop. It was our hope that I would have a long enough layover in
Melo to visit Renelda in the hospital, but no such luck. The next bus to
Montevideo was only a 35 minute wait, and it would allow us a 3 hour
layover in Treinta-y-Tres.
 
When we got to Treinta-y-Tres, we found that the Onda station had not
changed, except for the name (Onda went broke I guess, and now they have 36
bus companies hitting Tres Cruces in Montevideo). We found the guys behind
the counter most helpful and they kept our bags for us for free (no formal
bag storage there). We walked to the chapel and couldn't find anyone, so we
went back to the Onda and bought a phone card to make a few calls. Found
out that Lino Medina's number as provided in the Church Directory was
correct, and his wife assured me that he still owned the pharmacy and that I
could find him there, so we walked down to his pharmacy. Found out
disturbing news, which Richard Palmer, you may have already heard, but Jorge
Medina had died two weeks before I got there. His mom was the missionaries
"mom" and she cooked for us in Stella & Juan Carlos' home. She was so glad
to see Elder Palmer come back and was so proud to say that Jorge had gotten
active in the church again, and then to lose him so suddenly was a very
traumatic experience. She lives way out on the outskirts of town, and we
couldn't get out to see her, and there was no phone, but we sent her out
love by way of the Moyano's. We found the Moyano home after the pharmacy,
and visited with Brilda. She called Stella and Juan Carlos, and they came,
and Manrique came by just before his mom and dad arrived. He was a
pain-in-the-neck 2 year old when we were there, but now he is a great young
kid. Found out my London Fog trench coat had been on it's 3rd mission
before being retired. I sold it to Brilda, and a young guy took it on a
mission, and then when Stella's oldest went on a mission it went again (it
went to Argentina both times).
 
We arrived in Montevideo at 11:10PM and took a taxi to Yolanda and Jorge
Virdo's place, not even thinking to get change from the 100 peso bills that
I had. I had to beg money from Yolanda to pay the cabby. Yolanda is the
daughter of Almirinda, who I baptized while in Treinta-y-Tres. Almirinda is
Elia's sister. I believe it was Richard Palmer who went to Melo with me to
do that baptism. I had to receive special permission from the mission home
to go back up into the Melo distinct, but I had taught Almirinda when I was
at Elia & Altamir's in Fraile Muerto, and it was a special privilege to be
asked to baptize her.
 
That will be enough for today.

 

More later,

Lester

 

 

 

 

I can't believe it was June 19th the last time I wrote. This is pathetic,
but I am getting this written. At this point it is as much for the benefit
of my journal as it is to fill you all in on how wonderful the trip was.
My journal reads like "Termas del Dayman, heladeria, cemetery, 2:30PM bus to
Argent, slept over dam, soldiers & police w/ automatic weapons, nerves at
border crossings, Concordia Shopping - shirt, 7:10PM bus, double deck,
movies, hot 34C@11AM, stuffed for $7." Not exactly what I want to leave for
posterity, so here goes the less condensed version.
 
We arrived at 6:30AM in Salto, Uruguay. The thermal hot springs nearby were
highly recommended. The water comes out of the ground at 47 degrees
Celsius! They have 17 pools of varying temperatures. We stayed until 11 AM
(slept in the coolest pool for about an hour). After the Italian ice cream
in Montevideo, we were hooked, so we found an heladeria in Salto before our
bus left at 2:30PM. I had heard as a missionary that the Salto cemetery was
one of the most spectacular in Uruguay, and it turned out to be just across
the street from the bus station. I have embedded a picture of it, for
those who can read photos into their e-mail (HTML format). Those monuments
are crypts and after they scrape the flesh off the bones (after being left
without embalming for about a year), they but the bones in oversized shoe
boxes and store them on shelves under or inside of these crypts. Most have
a ladder down below ground level under the monuments. This one was old and
neglected, and looked like it came right from an Alfred Hitchcock horror
movie.
 
To get to Argentina from Uruguay you have to drive across this really wide
(but not very high) hydro-electric dam. It is on all the promo photos and
postcards of the area, and guess what? I slept across the dam and didn't
even see it! I couldn't believe it. I was struggling and struggling to
stay awake, but I lost it right after the border crossing and was toast all
the way into Concordia.
 
The Argentine military are unreal. We thought Brazil was bad with the guy
and his machine gun on the balcony at the bus station in Sao Paulo, but holy
cow! The Argentine border guards are all armed like that, and man do they
put on airs of authority. You feel like you are going to prison for a week
because your papers were not quite what a tourist should be showing (why
did you enter Uruguay at Yaguaron anyway...who in their right mind would
come in to Uruguay through Rio Branco? Why didn't you fly into Montevideo?
Why aren't you going to Buenos Aires? It isn't like they were just
curious...they were probing for any hint that I wasn't up and up with them.
They let up a little bit when I explained about my mission, and the
Pereiras in Fraile Muerto, and my plans to get to Iguazu on a budget. Thank
goodness I had read in one of the travel books that you would NOT be
allowed into Argentina under any circumstance if you lost your entrance
paper to Uruguay, and similarly, you could not get back in to Brazil without
showing that you had properly left the country by producing the exit paper
from the last point you exited Brazil. The passports and related
documents are a real source of nerves bouncing between countries down
there. Not for the faint of heart, I assure you.
 
Concordia was going to give Peter his last (and only) chance for really
serious shopping for a Soccer jersey for the "official" World Cup team. We
found one relatively easy (much easier than Brazil and Uruguay) at a really
classy shop. The MasterCard was holding strong, so we continued to put as
many purchases as we could on there (self insuring against theft or loss
that way). We tested the bank machines in each country for cash
withdrawals too, and they worked in every country, but not on every
machine. Brazil was the worst for finding the right bank machine that
connected to our Bank of Montreal account.
 
The bus didn't leave until 7:10PM so we had time for a leisurely meal of
"milanesa" steaks. We picked an open air restaurant near the bus terminal
that just opened (5:30 is VERY early for supper there), and we were the
only ones in the place. The lady helping was very friendly, asking us
what we were doing in Concordia, and so the subject of the church came up.
As it turned out, she is a member and she is the "cook" for the Elders in
Concordia. Our supper cost us $3.50 each and we were absolutely stuffed
full.
 
We got another double decker bus, but not the front seats, but that was
better because we had slept half the day away, so we were in the mood to
watch movies all night, and the TV monitor is right over your head if you
are in the front row. We got to see (in English with sub titles)
Mission Impossible and Bulletproof (with Adam Sandler). Bulletproof was
funny.
 

Love to you all,

 

Lester Leavitt

*not from step------here are some pics that came along emails.

 

 

Peter with a Carpincho

Salto