Dear Family,
Greetings from the land of the rising sun. Last week we obtained our Japanese driver’s licenses, and thereby lies a tale. Foreigners from countries without reciprocal agreements with Japan, like the USA, must join the local population in taking a test, the driving portion of which is legendary in its difficulty. Most people have to take it numerous times at considerable cost before they are successful. It seems to be one of the principal sources of governmental revenue. We, however, found a loophole. It seems that Germany reciprocates nicely with Japan on driving matters, perhaps a legacy of the old axis powers thing. Furthermore, from our previous missionary experience, we both have valid-for-life German driver’s licenses. And so, armed with certified translations and a fistful of money, we arrived at the Drivers Palace early last week to do battle with the bureaucratic apparatus entrenched there. With relative dispatch, Pat, received her license. Actually it took 4 hours, but keep in mind that in a bureaucratic country, the Driver’s Palace is the ultimate seat of bureaucracy – so, not too bad. It seems that my German license, somewhat older than Pat’s, (okay 45 years older) failed to clarify what type of vehicle I was authorized to drive. They were probably thinking - horse and buggy. After repeated trips to the German consulate and the application of the requisite stamps and signatures, the authorities reluctantly agreed to turn me loose on the streets of Japan with your regular passenger vehicle. Okay – truth to tell, we were afraid of the test and we chickened out – but, hey, we’ve always liked chicken.
This year’s Thanksgiving for us was unlike any other. It was in the middle of transfer week when we welcomed 5 new missionaries and said good-bye to 13, including the “elite eight” young women, 7 Japanese and one lone American. It was fun to see them come together at the mission home and office, which are in the same building. Two elders hadn’t seen each other since the MTC, such rejoicing in reunion reminded one of Ammon and his brothers greeting Alma en route home from their missions among the Lamanites. We were witness to squeals of delight, round-house hugs, tears of joy among the finishing missionaries, and trepidation, wonder, excitement and a few tears of fearful embarkation among the new. The full gamut of emotion was exhilarating to behold.
Thanksgiving Day itself was especially memorable. I get to conduct a brief financial close-out interview with each departing missionary and I took the opportunity to inquire as to the initial contacting methods they found most successful. It gave me a very interesting gallery to consider. Along about 4:00 pm there was a testimony meeting – all in Japanese. It was magical to sit and listen to the sweet testimonies and treasured experiences with one of the elders providing a whispered translation for us. We then enjoyed a delicious chicken teriyaki dinner in the mission home followed by a temple session, also in the same building. Pat and I were privileged to officiate in the temple session, which was also attended by several parents who had come to retrieve their missionaries. Pat had spent a lot of time preparing a departure binder filled with pictures, documents, letters and memorabilia for each departing missionary. The evening closed with an open house for family and friends at the mission home, where we finally got some pumpkin pie. Not your usual Thanksgiving and for us, completely devoid of family, yet none-the-less much to be thankful for.
Sending our love and Thanksgiving greeting over the miles, , we remain your faithful far-eastern correspondents, Mom and Dad
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