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Stories: Alaskan tranfer
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| Sunday night was spent sitting nervously by the phone. Thoughts racing through my brain, would I be transfered? Where would I go? What would my next companion be like? Was I even going to get called tonight? Would I have to spend another six weeks with HIM? As I sat contemplating all the possibilities the phone rang. "This is it!" I thought as I picked up the reciever. I could hardly stand the suspence as I put the phone to my ear. Sweat pouring down my face I said, "Hello this is Elder Balls." It was the Mission President. I must have been sweating alot because the first thing he told me was "Elder, calm down! I don't think my phone is water proof!" After a few deep breaths and half a bottle of Pepto, he proceeded to tell me my next assignment. I was to open a new area, Prince of Wales Island. I was to drive to Fairbanks, about a six hour drive, and pick up my next companion Elder Randall. We were going to drive the whole way because we needed to take a car with us. Then the APs talked to my present companion and told him that Elder Randall was driving down from Fairbanks to pick me up. This was typical of transfers. No comunication between the President and the APs. The following is an account of the transfering of two typical Alaskan Missionaries:
Monday morning: Elder Randall wakes up early, he fixes toast, orange juice, and a bowl of cereal with milk half sour. He knows he needs to get moving because he is meeting Elder Balls that night and hopes to tag along to dinner. Not only that, he knows that with his travel partner, its better to get it overwith quick. Like pulling off a bandaid. The entire trip was spent relentlessly trying to ignore the person sitting next to him in the car.
In the meantime back in Anchorage, I spend the day in a state of mass confussion. I didn't know what the heck was going on! All the time the thought lingered in the back of my head that I was not the only one that didn't have this transfer figured out. Tuesday morning, a trip to the mission office confermed this fear as we found out that no travel arrangments have been made. i.e. a car to take, gas for a car, hotels, ferry tickets, somewhere to stay once we reach our destination, ect. Most of Tuesday was spent in the office banging our heads into walls and sitting on thumbs. By the time we got things straightend out, it is hardly worth leaving that day. But we decide to leave anyway and spend the night in Palmer at the same apartment I was trained in. After a long night of spiritual debate with the resident missionaries, morning came, and with it came our departure.
The road out of Palmer was narrow and filled with twists, turns, steep hills and loopty-loops. It was once considerd the most dangerous highway in the United States. Lunch time came and went and still we pressed on. Not that we could have eaten if we wanted to; there was hardly a gas station on the road, let alone a resturaunt. Dinner finally came and so did a place to eat. We ate quick because we had to make the Canadian border before night fall. Like Transelvania, its not safe to travel in Canada after the sun goes down. As we crossed the boarder a dark clowd seemed to creep over us. "Must be something about third world countries." we thought.
Eventualy we arived at our first stop in Beaver Creek Canada. Our five star Canadian hotel turned out to be nothing more than a sectioned off trailer. After we crawled through the doggie door that served as the entrance to our room we discovered the room was more like a solitary confinement cell. Standing room only. The bed consisted of a hook on the wall much like a coat hanger you would attach your shirt collar to. After a short evaluation we decided we should get two rooms. Checking out the next morning only resulted in more confusion. I gess the method of paying with a credit card is a new concept in thier country. A concept they had aparently not grasped yet. We decided to gas up before we left and in doing so we asked the attendant how far it was to the next town. This proved totaly worthless because they use a different measuring system.
So once again we set out not having a clue as to what lay ahead. On our trip though Canada we were blessed with the spectical of the majestic Canadian wild life. Absolutly none. With exception of two or three caribu and a mountain goat. As we neared the U.S. boarder the elements began to change. The temperature dropped, the wind began to blow, the road became increasingly treterous and it seemed as if the land itself were trying to prevent us from leaving. Grasping us so as to keep us from reaching the freedoms of American soil, and to repress us. Finaly we reached the boarder and almost emmedeitly a sense of security came over us and the dark cloud that had so thoroughly saturated us was lifted. And on we pressed to Haines, our next resting point.
Once in Haines we thought it a good idea to call a local church authority to gain access to the missionary cottage. And any good missionary knows that church authorities are the easiest to con a dinner out of. We decided to go with the "Do you know any good places to eat that are rediculosly cheap?" approach. We followed him to a nearby pizza joint. We hoped he was going to offer to pay or something, but the fish didn't bite, and he drove away. We bought a pizza and took it home so we could save some for breakfast, and lunch, and dinner before we got on the ferry.
Once on the ferry it was smooth sailing, with exception of sleeping on cold steel floors and absolutly nothing to do. As the realization of how borring this boat ride was going to be began to set in, anticipation of the on board movie began to grow. We could only emagine the sick twisted humor we were subjected to as the movie "Babe" began to play. Flash backs of the Canadian experience plagued us through out the trip down Alaska's Inside Passage. Broken only by the spectacular scenery and mind boggling beauty of the Alaskan South East.
As we pulled into port in Ketchikan late Saturday night, Elder Randall's mind began to race with memories of this place he once called home only six months ago. Words can hardly express the joy we felt as we saw the two smiling faces of Elder Bergstrom and his companion, Elder Riner. Sleeping on the old wornout futon in thier living room seemed comparable to Eden. But this was not to last. Sunday morning, after sacrament meeting, we once again boarded the ferry. This time to find it loaded to the hilt with jittery young school girls. Never in our lives had we imagined what the meat must feel like in the supermarkets we shop in.
After a short trip we arrived in our prostlatizing area, Prince of Wales Island. Now we undertook the task of finding a place to live which inevetably became the church house. It would be over a month before we would have a place to call home and a bed to sleep on. Untill then the floor was our resting place and the pews our closet.
This trip totaled a week in durration and spanned over 1,300 miles. Many memories I will take home from my mission, but none will be quite like the memory of when we got transfered to Prince Of Wales Island, in the lowest part of the Alaskan South East. |
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