Little Mission Highlights: Areas
AREAS
I only served in three areas, which is very unusual for a sister missionary, and stayed in each one progressively longer. I taught tons of people, but the Lord seemed to always send me to the ones with big obstacles that needed a lot of love, a lot of time, and a lot of patience. I think he knew I wouldn't just leave them in the dust when the going got rough, or the minute there wasn't a baptism within the next three weeks.
FONTANA
I remember landing in Redlands CA the first day, and thinking how well the Lord knew me to send me there. The place was hilly and full of citrus fruit and antique houses. It was lovely! The next day, however, I was assigned to my first area, Fontana, and I drove out with my trainer I was struck by how quickly the landscape changed! Fontana was pure concrete, with few trees, and full of litter, pollution, and people fallen on hard times. I never felt unsafe, but it was a dirty, smoky industrial town. Quickly, however, I grew to love it for how distinctly different it was from tidy, sweet, and sometimes bland little Centerville. I loved the people, as there were so many characters. Most of the people were those who had moved up to L.A. and then spread out once they got tired or couldn't handle the traffic and danger there. We taught many families where the parents only spoke Spanish and the kids only spoke English, which taught me about the loss of culture and language generationally. There was a huge Hispanic (Spanish-speaking) population, and we quickly learned how to identify Spanish-speaking households by things like mops outside the door, Christmas lights in August, and mounted lions lining the fence. I served here with my trainer, Hermana Stanfield, and then Hermana Watkins. Jesse got baptized during my time here! This was my smallest area, and I spent 3 transfers here before heading out to the desert.
YUCCA VALLEY
Yucca Valley is a stake in the middle of the California Desert that stretches from Amboy to Palm Springs, and our area covered all of it. Part of the Sonora Desert, we often saw roadrunners, watched tumbleweeds blow across the road, and awakened to coyotes crying in the night. Few of my companions saw the beauty in the rugged, dry landscape, but I loved it. Tall white windmills stretched into the distance and Mt. San Jacinto would turn purple in the evening. Clouds would sweep low over us, and that winter it rained torrentially, so much that the streets would turn into rivers and they would close some off. The branch we served in was a slowly progressing branch called Agua Caliente, which relied heavily on the missionaries. Every Sunday was like a soap-opera, and someone was always offended. It was terrifying to bring anyone to church! They all had such strong personalities, paralleled by a lot of faith. We mostly worked in the community of Desert Hot Springs, where we lived, which was heavily Spanish-speaking. The little town was rough and we were told full of drugs and sometimes violence, but I felt safe most of the time. A member's son, however was shot soon after I left, and there was always weed on the air. Desert Hot Springs, to me, was a town full of people fallen on hard times and just trying to get on. I served six months there, first in a trio with Hermana Ciarlante and Hermana Jensen, then 2 more transfers with Hna. Ciarlante and one with Hermana Ballard (who I trained).
PALM DESERT
Where do I start? I loved it. Only half-an-hour away from Yucca Valley, Palm Desert had a completely different feel. We worked mainly in several poorer communities; Coachella, Mecca, Thermal, and North Shore; and just a piece of a few wealthy ones; Indio and La Quinta. I arrived in the season of the Coachella Music Festival , which created lots of traffic. We could sometimes feel the bass! I served 2 transfers with Hermana Alvarado (Latina born and raised in the USA), and then trained Hna. Staker for 2 transfers and Hna. Coenen for 1. We worked mainly in Thermal because it was 100% Spanish and the people were so heavily Christian and open to new religions. We'd drive through miles of lemon trees and date palms in long, majestic rows. In between were little trailer park communties full of migrant workers almost exclusively from Mexico. There were only 2 little general stores in the whole place that would sell "salsa verde" chips and blast mariachi and rancho music. In one trailer park, the people were mainly from the state of Michoacan, and spoke a dialect called Tarasco. We learned a little from Esteban, and then scared people by greeting them that way. They had whole bands that would sing in it, and there was always a loud party going on in the "setenta" where the two largest parks where found. Hermano Esteves reigned king and knew the whole place. He was known as "Viporo" or "Viper"--a famous Mexican singer. Hermana Alvarado would tell me, "if Mexico and the U.S. had a baby, it would be California. You don't need to go to Mexico, hermana, you're already there." When we got deep into the dirt roads, it was sometimes easy to forget where we were.
I saw a lot of poverty here. I taught a mother of (soon-to-be) nine who's home was falling apart. Her husband was in jail for child molesting, her 18-year-old son the breadwinner. The kids were always running around without pants and playing in the yard which was covered in litter and old wood. They had so little...I always made sure to dress a little more humbly when we worked in Thermal. They were always giving us grapes, or raisins, or bell-peppers, or waterbottles... whatever they had. The field workers were good, warm people who were always ready to talk. Often they weren't very well educated, but most were whip-smart and there were a few who had been soldiers (Esteban) or nurses back home in Mexico.
The ward was incredible. Tiny, almost smaller than the branch, but getting along thanks to strong recent converts and strong leadership. They loved hard and welcomed every new face we brought. I adored them all. They were the busiest bunch, but always found time to give us a helping hand with the work.
I only served in three areas, which is very unusual for a sister missionary, and stayed in each one progressively longer. I taught tons of people, but the Lord seemed to always send me to the ones with big obstacles that needed a lot of love, a lot of time, and a lot of patience. I think he knew I wouldn't just leave them in the dust when the going got rough, or the minute there wasn't a baptism within the next three weeks.
FONTANA
I remember landing in Redlands CA the first day, and thinking how well the Lord knew me to send me there. The place was hilly and full of citrus fruit and antique houses. It was lovely! The next day, however, I was assigned to my first area, Fontana, and I drove out with my trainer I was struck by how quickly the landscape changed! Fontana was pure concrete, with few trees, and full of litter, pollution, and people fallen on hard times. I never felt unsafe, but it was a dirty, smoky industrial town. Quickly, however, I grew to love it for how distinctly different it was from tidy, sweet, and sometimes bland little Centerville. I loved the people, as there were so many characters. Most of the people were those who had moved up to L.A. and then spread out once they got tired or couldn't handle the traffic and danger there. We taught many families where the parents only spoke Spanish and the kids only spoke English, which taught me about the loss of culture and language generationally. There was a huge Hispanic (Spanish-speaking) population, and we quickly learned how to identify Spanish-speaking households by things like mops outside the door, Christmas lights in August, and mounted lions lining the fence. I served here with my trainer, Hermana Stanfield, and then Hermana Watkins. Jesse got baptized during my time here! This was my smallest area, and I spent 3 transfers here before heading out to the desert.
YUCCA VALLEY
Yucca Valley is a stake in the middle of the California Desert that stretches from Amboy to Palm Springs, and our area covered all of it. Part of the Sonora Desert, we often saw roadrunners, watched tumbleweeds blow across the road, and awakened to coyotes crying in the night. Few of my companions saw the beauty in the rugged, dry landscape, but I loved it. Tall white windmills stretched into the distance and Mt. San Jacinto would turn purple in the evening. Clouds would sweep low over us, and that winter it rained torrentially, so much that the streets would turn into rivers and they would close some off. The branch we served in was a slowly progressing branch called Agua Caliente, which relied heavily on the missionaries. Every Sunday was like a soap-opera, and someone was always offended. It was terrifying to bring anyone to church! They all had such strong personalities, paralleled by a lot of faith. We mostly worked in the community of Desert Hot Springs, where we lived, which was heavily Spanish-speaking. The little town was rough and we were told full of drugs and sometimes violence, but I felt safe most of the time. A member's son, however was shot soon after I left, and there was always weed on the air. Desert Hot Springs, to me, was a town full of people fallen on hard times and just trying to get on. I served six months there, first in a trio with Hermana Ciarlante and Hermana Jensen, then 2 more transfers with Hna. Ciarlante and one with Hermana Ballard (who I trained).
PALM DESERT
Where do I start? I loved it. Only half-an-hour away from Yucca Valley, Palm Desert had a completely different feel. We worked mainly in several poorer communities; Coachella, Mecca, Thermal, and North Shore; and just a piece of a few wealthy ones; Indio and La Quinta. I arrived in the season of the Coachella Music Festival , which created lots of traffic. We could sometimes feel the bass! I served 2 transfers with Hermana Alvarado (Latina born and raised in the USA), and then trained Hna. Staker for 2 transfers and Hna. Coenen for 1. We worked mainly in Thermal because it was 100% Spanish and the people were so heavily Christian and open to new religions. We'd drive through miles of lemon trees and date palms in long, majestic rows. In between were little trailer park communties full of migrant workers almost exclusively from Mexico. There were only 2 little general stores in the whole place that would sell "salsa verde" chips and blast mariachi and rancho music. In one trailer park, the people were mainly from the state of Michoacan, and spoke a dialect called Tarasco. We learned a little from Esteban, and then scared people by greeting them that way. They had whole bands that would sing in it, and there was always a loud party going on in the "setenta" where the two largest parks where found. Hermano Esteves reigned king and knew the whole place. He was known as "Viporo" or "Viper"--a famous Mexican singer. Hermana Alvarado would tell me, "if Mexico and the U.S. had a baby, it would be California. You don't need to go to Mexico, hermana, you're already there." When we got deep into the dirt roads, it was sometimes easy to forget where we were.
I saw a lot of poverty here. I taught a mother of (soon-to-be) nine who's home was falling apart. Her husband was in jail for child molesting, her 18-year-old son the breadwinner. The kids were always running around without pants and playing in the yard which was covered in litter and old wood. They had so little...I always made sure to dress a little more humbly when we worked in Thermal. They were always giving us grapes, or raisins, or bell-peppers, or waterbottles... whatever they had. The field workers were good, warm people who were always ready to talk. Often they weren't very well educated, but most were whip-smart and there were a few who had been soldiers (Esteban) or nurses back home in Mexico.
The ward was incredible. Tiny, almost smaller than the branch, but getting along thanks to strong recent converts and strong leadership. They loved hard and welcomed every new face we brought. I adored them all. They were the busiest bunch, but always found time to give us a helping hand with the work.
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