I could get used to this...

Waking up whenever I please.
Eating whatever I please, whenever I please (which is rarely, since I'm so captivated by other things).
Acting on the slightest whim, with no though of where it will take me.
Stopping to read whenever I want, for as long as I want.
Window shopping without the slightest urge to buy anything.
Buying delicious produce from street vendors.
Great weather.
Even better architecture.
Beautiful parks and lavish gardens.
Delicious gyros (however you choose to pronounce that word).
Decent gelato on every street corner.
Dozens of different languages to hear as you walk down the street. (with Brazilian portugues, my favorite, being well represented)
Around every corner another turret that makes fairytales believable.
Going to bed whenever I please.
No responsibilities whatsoever-no work, no school, no deadlines.
And the Prague castle, which I did visit again today.
Yes, I could get used to this.

If I had my loved ones here, could play pinochle, and had a full wardrobe (I like to look nice every once in a while), and the necessary funding, I would never want to go home.

it's true what they say about Prague

Oh my gosh Prague is AMAZING!! Today I was a little late for church since I was dumb and got on the wrong tram. Luckily I caught my mistake soon enough and was able to walk quickly enough to make it time for the sacrament. It took me about 40 minutes to get to church from my hostel. It took me 6 hours to get back. That's how wonderful Prague is, that's how much it sucks you in.
I went to the park next to the church to nibble on some bread, and soon got sucked in to wandering around, taking pictures. One thing I noticed was the graffiti. I'm no stranger to graffiti-the profane, the ugly, the beautiful, and the outright hysterical. It is everywhere in the Baltics too. But here, it breaks my heart. This is such an amazing, magical place, that to disfigure it like that is unforgivable to me.
After seeing a couple of monuments and a park or two, I found myself being sucked into the general flow of tourists on that side of the river. It started as a little trickle and then joined another little trickle and another until I was part of a mob. None of them ever looked like they were looking for anything specific. They appeared to be, like me, just wandering, captivated by this city. If that is ture, then we were all undeniably drawn to Prague castle, and when I got my first glimpse of that place, I was speechless, and not just because I don't have anyone here to talk to. It's so much more impressive than any photo lets on. It is the single most breathtaking and captivating man-made thing I have ever seen. Whether that speaks to my status of novice-traveler or to the astounding beauty of Prague, I will let you be the judge. In the end, the only thing that could take me away from it was the thought that, if I feel so inclined, I can come back tomorrow.
"OK," I told myself. "You've seen the castle. Now go home." I have laundry that I've been putting off. I am in a skirt and my church shoes aren't walking shoes. I am hungry. I am tired. It is cold. It is windy, and again, I'm in a skirt. None of these reasons could seem to get me home. Then my feet and back started to ache, but although it only grew worse, the wonders around every corner here kept me still for hours. Now, back at the hostel, I feel certain that I couldn't go another step today. Wish me luck getting up the billion flights of stairs to my room!

a new chapter

Well, chapter one of my trip-of-a-lifetime had a rather....anticlimactic end. We went to Narva, where Sister Foust served, but I never did. It was cool, I got to take a picture of myself with Estonia on the left and Russia on the right and some cool castles, but mostly it was for her nostalgia that we went. We met some members there, and I just ate their grapes while they reminisced. After that made our way back to Riga,taking our sweet time. On Thursday, we missed our bus to Riga and were stuck at the Tallinn bus station for 6 hours with all our stuff, but we were both content--Kate with her Kindle and me with my Nook.
My miraculously light packing job has turned out to be perfect, except for Thursday I got a mild blister and realized that I neglected to bring a first aid kit. "Oh well," I thought, "what could possibly happen? I'll be fin-" WHAM!! Just at that that exact moment I fall up the stone stairs, carrying all my stuff, as Kate and I hurried to our hostel at 11:00 pm. I hobbled to the top of the stairs to assess my injuries. My fingers were jammed, but nothing you can do about that. I looked down at the big toe that hurt the most. Again, badly jammed but nothing to be done. My other big toe, though, had a piece of flesh the size of a dime hanging off it and blood everywhere. All we could do was continue to the hostel and hope that they had something. It was difficult enough to walk on the cobblestone with my hurting toes, but then my shoe soon became slippery with all the blood. Luckily the hostel had some bandages, but today and yesterday (Friday and Saturday) I've been limping around in my squeaky shoes, a sorry sight to see. A sorrier sight, though, are my feet themselves. One big toe bandaged up like the head of someone that just recieved a sever concussion, one big toe swollen and purple, and the toenail next to that one still black from when I stubbed it before Christmas. A sad but extrememly comical testiment to my clumsiness.
But I don't want to complain. It really is super funny to me, and I get around just fine, and the first chapter of my trip was everything I could have hoped it would be.
The second chapter started out this morning much as the first on had, in a panic. "What am I thinking? I can't go off to a country I've never been to, where they speak a language I'm not familiar with, ALL BY MYSELF! What was I thinking?!?!? What am I going to do?!?!" Luckily this wave of panic was much easier to overcome than the first and I was soon on my way, as excited as ever. The landscape on the drive was phenomenal, and my first day here in Prague equally so. I kept telling myself that I was tired, that my head hurt, that I should do laundry and blog and get to bed, but every corner you turn here reveals another wonder, another excuse NOT to go back to the hostel. And I left the best part for tomorrow. It's going to be GREAT!

best. day. ever.

It sure didn't seem like it was going to be the best day ever. We were rudely forced out of our hostel room by some drunken Irishman and were left with several hours to kill before church and nothing to do. We wandered around until the grocery store opened so we could get some famed Estonian apple yogurt for breakfast, then wandered around a park and a beach-side path until it was time for church. That's when things got good.

One of the (many) reasons I love Daugavpils is that, being the last sister in that city and actually having some converts there, people remember me. It makes me feel like my time here wasn't a waste. Surely no on in Riga would really remember me, one of the reasons it doesn't feel like home. I didn't really expect much of a welcome in Tallinn, but I loved the branch here a lot, so I was excited to come anyway. I was excited to find sister missionaries here, since the shortage had left sisters only in Riga. When I introduced myself, the first sister said, "You're sister Norris!?!?" And then she proceeded to introduce me to her companions, "This is Sister NORRIS!" I couldn't figure out what the fuss was all about, surely the members don't remember me enough to rave about me. Then one sister asked me, "Do you remember Nadezhda?"

Pft. Do I remember Nadezhda. The Nadezhda that was the most golden investigaor that I'd ever had my whole mission, that slipped through the cracks after I left? The Nadezhda that I asked all the missionaries I could get ahold of about but none knew who I was talking about, the one I desperately wanted to find myself, but whose address I couldn't seem to remember? Yes, I remember her. I remember her well and frequently.

"She's getting baptized in two weeks. She talks about you all the time. She'll be here today." And she's bringing a friend. And her daughter is really warming up to us. The good news just kept coming. It was so AMAZING! When Nadezhda showed up, it took her a second to recognize me, but the she gasped and hugged me. I held her tight for as long as I dared, but she still wasn't ready to let me go. When she finally did, her eyes were red like she might cry and she said, "I prayed that you'd come to me, that we'd find each other." Then she invited me to her baptism, which I simply cannot attend. If only I had known. If I had come to the Baltics two weeks later, I could have seen Nadezhda and Luba Chebotariova baptized.

Then member Maxim drove us around to see beaches and waterfalls and forests around Tallinn. Free transportation, free entertainment, good company. Great news. Best. Day. Ever.

WHY AM I NOT A MISSIONARY?!?!

After another perfect day in my beloved D-pils, we were ready to say goodbye agin, probably forever this time. And that meant 8ish hours on a bus, a good thing since I'm still only able to sleep about 3 hours durring the night and busses mean dramamine and dramamine means sleep.

When we got to Riga, we had two hours till our but to Tallinn and my appetite had suddenly returned full force so we went to T.G.I.Fridays. Why an American restaurant, you ask? Again, it was about the memories. And today, it was about fate.

We sat next to the most adorable family that was speaking Russian and their baby boy wouldn't stop giving us his charming, toothless smile. His parents were also kind, helping him wave goodbye to us and wishing us luck, maybe because that's what Russians say or maybe because he thought we'd need it with our poor Russian skills. Kate mentioned that if she were still a missionary, she'd be all over that. I also noticed that one of the waitresses was the same one that had worked there when we came as missionaries, but I couldn't remember if she is the one that had asked about the book we always carried and to whom I gave a copy. But it was the other waitress that I noticed most. An old investigator. A promising one. One of those "ones that got away" because she moved to Bulgaria after the first three meetings. And she recognized me and hugged me. She said that some of the missionaries tried to call her recently, but she is very busy. We are facebook friends so I'm going to message her that it was good to see her and that she should meet with the missionaries again. Baltic people are all about signs and fate, so maybe running into her will give her just enough of a push to meet with the missionaries again. As we left Fridays, I told Sister Foust, "If we were still missionaries, we would have hit the jackpot today."

Tomorrow, church and an otherwise chill day in Tallinn. This is no Daugavpils, but it is still good to be here. I love this place. I remember in the MTC someone showed us a Baltic calendar with pictures of the different cities. Many of them were beautiful, but when I saw a picture of Tallinn, I got a special feeling. I knew I would finish my mission here, which I did, and I knew there would be some special people here. And there are. I can't wait to see them tomorrow!

daugavpils, city of my heart

Well, I didn't sleep much in Riga, in spite of being so tired from my hour-and-a-half nap that separated my first two days of travel. I went to sleep around 12:30 was awake around 3, got out of bed around 5:30, and got another half hour nap after breakfast. Luckily, Kate (formerly known as Sister Foust, my favoirte companion) agreed that Riga didn't hold anything special for us, so we were off to Daugavpils. That meant taking some of my favoirte drug (dramamine) and sleeping for the four hour bus ride. I woke up just before reaching D-pils, just in time for the most wonderful view of the Daugava (the river) and a beautiful landscape dotted with dachas (their summer "homes" that are really nothing more than lean-tos that they stay in to work in their gardens.) It was Latvia and its most ideal.

Even though this is the place that I said good-bye to first on the mission, I soon begin to recognize street names and landmarks. I remember it even better than Riga, maybe because we walked so much more here so we had to pay more attention, or maybe just because it is nearer and dearer to my heart. There isn't much to see in D-pils. OK, so there's nothing here to see. The sweet family that runs our hotel was obviously confused as to why someone who spoke poor Russian and no Latvian would want to stay here for two nights. For us this city is all about memories and people.

First we went to the Chebotariov family. The short version is that we found them, taught them, saw them baptized, and love them with all our hearts. If you want to hear the long version, about how miraculous and funny and wonderful they are, I'll tell you later, but it really is a LONG version. They didn't know we were coming, so when Arina asked, "who's there" and I answered, she threw the door open and hugged Kate and I in utter shock. She was so excited to see us and couldn't believe we were there. She called back to her family, "The sisters have come to see us, the sisters are here!" Their surprise was so prieless, and Larissa looked like she was going to cry. Luba was shy at first, but quick to warm up to us and was soon back to the little girl that was ever eager to show off to us and give us trinkets. They were sealed in the temple in November and will return in August to add Arina, who wasn't ready for the temple yet. Luba turns 8 in two weeks and will be baptized, provided her father can convince her that being dunked underwater like that is perfectly safe. Alexander is the first counselor in the branch presidency, and they are great member missionaries, as always. So amazing to have know them!

They called Vita, the most Celestial woman I have ever known, who lives nearby. "You'll never guess who we have here as guests...No...no...THE SISTERS!" As the last sister missionaries here, we are easier to remember. So after the mandatory tea and cookies, we had to go visit her too. We were not opposed, although I was slightly opposed to having to have more tea and more cookies. But the way Larissa and Vita hugged me, like they really meant it, was....just wonderful.

Vita mentioned that Eva, an old investigator, had moved appartments. I came to D-pils just in time for the baptism of her son, Lauris, and we would have baptized Eva too, but she had issues with her "husband". The only way for us to find her was for Vita and her daughter to walk us there. It was very late, but we had to find Eva. She was asleep so we headed home, but it was so late that the next tram didn't come for another hour, so we had to walk, which was fine. But when we got the hotel, it was all locked up, and for a while, we thought we would have to roam the streets of Daugavpils for the night. Luckily, that was not the case, we eventually got in, and luckily I had Kate with me so I wasn't too worried.

Even though this city is the smallest that I served in here and has literally nothing to see, we deided to stay another night to see Eva. We weren't sure what we would do with ourselves for the rest of the day, we're not sure how to find some of the other members we would like to see, many are in England, and we covered some of our favorites last night. But I think I'm staying for more than just Eva. I'm glad to stay another night in Daugavpils because Daugavpils still loves me. Daugavpils, very much unlike Riga, is still home.

riga

First, can I just say that I forgot how much I hate airplanes? I mean, I'm super grateful that I don't have to make long journeys in covered wagons, but really I hate those flying dungeons of torture. I've never gotten motion sick on a plane before today. I guess it was technically yesterday, but with only an hour and a half nap between them, yesterday and today seem like one LONG day. And 13 hours in the sky is a long time to be motion sick and unable to sleep, and then my bad knees began to ache from being stuck in seated position for so long.

But I made it to Riga.

Maybe because of my long trip, it's hard to say how exactly I feel here in Riga, SO many mixed emotions are brought on by being here, and I can't sort the good ones from the bad ones. Kind of like when I read the goodbye letter that Danny gave me. Missing him and being super grateful for him just kinda mix together in an emotional mud puddle.

Walking around Riga today was great and a part of me felt like it was absolutely a magical miracle to be here again. But then there was this part of me that felt like I had never been away, like any minute P-day would be over and we would have to head off to some appointment or a park for contacting. Maybe this last feeling was aided by the fact that NOTHING has changed. The fashions, the smells (vodka and tobacco) , the stores (Super Netto has the same advertisment hanging in the window that it did two years ago), the buildings (falling apart but still so beautiful), the jeers from men as they pass me on the street, the way it hurts after a while to walk on the charming cobblestone streets, the babushki ranting about anything and everything that is wrong with the world. It's all the same.

Here are some of the things I realized I missed most about this place as I was out and about. I miss being in a place with real history, buildings built in the 13th century. I miss being in a place worthy of having souvenir shops. I miss having flowers EVERYWHERE. Everywhere you turn is another flower stand, another girl holding a flower from her special someone or a special someone holding a flower, waiting for his girl. I miss the street musicians, especially that little old lady who playes the accordian--another unchanged feature of Riga. I miss the feeling that I can conquer the world. I'm in Latvia. Who's ever heard of Latvia? And I own it. I know my way around, I can manage. I can enjoy myself. If I can handle this, what can't I do? Although, I'll admit that is a feeling I'll be glad to trade it for the safety of home when the time comes.

But at the same time, there's a weird feeling that I don't belong here anymore. This was my home as a missionary, but without the tag, in some ways I'm a stranger again. I don't understand how I was able to come to this place and somehow be OK with staying for a year and a half. I am excited to quickly see Daugavpils and Tallinn and then move on to other sights, other places that will be strictly excitement, no emotional mudpuddles of nostalgia or feelings that I've had my time there and am no longer welcome. I guess you just can't really go back.