Joseph Zzimula Mugwanya - “I’m a Mormon, and happy to be.”

            Thinking back on this study abroad experience here in Beijing, there is one person and one event that will stand out far above the rest. Before coming to China, I couldn’t have imagined the opportunities for missionary work here. 

            Having served full-time missions in Taiwan speaking mandarin Chinese, Brett and I were called to serve as branch missionaries. This came with a variety of responsibilities including teaching new member lessons to the handful of recent converts and translating sacrament meeting for the members of our branch who don’t speak English. As there are no full-time missionaries here in China, we would also take the responsibility of teaching investigators. I remember one particular phone call that began it all. I guess they say ‘A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.’

            Teasa is Joseph’s sister and works for the Ugandan embassy here in Beijing. I don’t know all the details, but she was praying to find the truth, and God led her to find our church. In early November I was given the assignment of contacting her and her husband to see if they would be willing to hear the missionary lessons. It was Teasa who answered the phone, but she would be leaving for Uganda later that day and would be gone for two months. She told me that her younger brother had recently moved in with them, and that he and George could meet with me the next day.

            The following afternoon, Brett and I were sitting in their living room sharing about Joseph Smith and the restoration of the gospel. While George was very passive about everything, Joseph on the other hand was thinking very deeply about the things we were sharing. He expressed concerns he had, asked questions when he needed clarification, and asked well thought-out questions. When we left them a chapter to read in The Book of Mormon, it was Joseph who called me the following morning to discuss what he read.

            To help make Joseph’s transition here in Beijing a little smoother, Brett and I decided to teach him how to use the subway. We not only found him a map, but also explained about transfer stations, choosing exits, and determining direction. The subway is huge and a little intimidating at first if you aren’t familiar with how it works, but such a convenience once you figure it out. We pointed out particularly important stations and then showed him how to get to Brother Stratford’s house where we attend institute each Wednesday night. Since we were out and about, we also took him to the top of the tallest skyscraper in Beijing. Coming back down to the lobby, we sat and discussed The Plan of Salvation. Joseph had mentioned before that he was baptized into another church as a child, so we specifically discussed the need to have authority from God. This was only the second time we had sat down to teach Joseph, but we challenged him to prepare to be baptized. We didn’t feel that we had  received a strong commitment from Joseph that night, but we knew it was something he was now thinking seriously about. It wasn’t a week later, talking to Joseph on the phone when unexpectedly he asked: “What day in December was that baptismal service?” When I replied December 17^th, he told me with felt he could be ready by that date. That was November 29^th. Two weeks later he passed his baptismal interview with the Branch President!

            I think every convert has a turning point where everything begins to fall into place for them. I think that moment came one evening as we sat in our dorm room discussing The Book of Mormon. As we read through the introduction, we discussed more than just the origin of The Book of Mormon, but what it meant to us personally. The Holy Ghost was present and he recognized that. I’ve watched during the weeks that followed as The Book of Mormon became an ever important part of his life.  

            The week of his baptism Joseph invited us over to his house to meet one of his friends. Julie is also from Uganda, and Joseph wanted us to share the gospel with her! She is much like him, having so much desire to know truth! That all so familiar spirit was present in the lesson, and I felt in my heart that one day this wonderful woman will have the gospel in her life.

            There is no baptismal font in the skyscraper the church is using for our church, but there is a swimming pool on the fifth floor. The church is able to rent it out before opening hours on Saturday mornings, so that means our baptismal service would have to be early morning. We rolled out of bed at 6am and on the subway by 6:30am. I can’t remember seeing anyone as excited for their baptism as Joseph was yesterday morning. I could feel his excitement as we had the opening prayer and listened to the talks about baptism and the Holy Ghost. It then dawned on me: ‘I don’t know the baptismal prayer… I’ve never done this before in English.’ I wasn’t expecting to be the one to actually baptize him. (In my mission, the missionaries rarely if ever did the actual baptizing. It was always ward members.) You can imagine my surprise when Joseph asked if I would be the one to baptize him. I hadn’t brought a towel or under-clothing or anything, but I couldn’t possibly turn pass up this opportunity.

Who would have thought that Beijing, China would be the place this young man from Uganda would find the gospel. Those were the thoughts running through my mind as Joseph entered the waters of baptism that day. He mentioned to me later on that he knew it wasn’t by coincidence we are both in Beijing right now, and I knew it was true. Standing there together in the water and seeing him emerge cleansed of all sin will forever be a sweet, sweet memory I will always cherish. I wish you could see the joy on his face at that moment. Drying off in the locker room, he continued to smile. At one point he looked up at me and said: “I can’t remember ever feeling happier than how I feel right now.” It showed in his countenance!

            Going back into the chapel, Joseph shared a beautiful and powerful testimony. Have you ever felt so happy that you couldn’t help but cry? He talked about the power of the atonement he had felt in his life, remarking that he now was “clean like stainless steel or a white cloth.” He talked about how he felt having the commandments in his life gave him direction. He talked about having a personal relationship with God. I believe one thing he said summed it up well: “I feel that this has been the best decision I have made in my entire life.” In sacrament meeting today, Joseph was confirmed a member of the church.

Tonight I saw Joseph for the last time. He invited us over to his house for what he called his ‘baptism celebration.’ The spirit was strong as we watched ‘The Testaments’ and afterwards talked more about the Savior’s visit to the American continent. It was almost like a little testimony meeting. I marveled at the love I felt for my friend from Africa, and realized how much I would miss all the times we met together to talk about the gospel. Before we parted, we exchanged gifts. I gave him a dragon tie to wear to church and to remember the time he has spent here in Beijing. To remember him, I was given traditional clothing worn on special occasions in Uganda. I loved the gift, because I knew it was special to him! This man will forever hold a very special place in my heart!

A Measure of Success

As we rode the subway home tonight, I looked over at Ben: “Today was rather a failure. Sorry it didn’t turn out as I expected.” He looked back at me thoughtfully, and replied: “Adam, we had a lot of fun today, so really, it was a success.” 

Looking back over the events of the day, we couldn’t help but laugh. When we began watching that basketball game last night, the idea of sporadically catching a train to Tianjin hadn’t even crossed our minds. Who would have guessed we would wake up this morning and randomly decide to go watch a professional basketball game in another city? By early afternoon, we were racing from the Pearl Market to catch a two hour train towards the coast. It was obvious to see now that our plan wasn’t very well thought out.

Tianjin was a much larger city than we had originally thought. I had no idea that almost 13 million people live there. We also found out that this sports team often switches buildings, and it didn’t seem like anyone knew where they would be playing tonight. As Ben described the day to Emily: “Let’s just say it was a game of ‘hide-and-seek’ and we lost.” It was while standing at a bus stop in the freezing cold, waiting for a bus we weren’t even sure would take us where we wanted to go, that we realized the follies in our plan. (Maybe we were a little dense.)  Forty minutes later we were sitting in McDonalds enjoying Big Macs, and talking about switching our train tickets to an earlier time. haha

Standing on that subway laughing with Ben about how crazy we had been, I thought about what he had said about today being a success. With a smile on my face, I looked back at him: “You’re right Ben. Today was a success.”

What A Semester

Did you two know you were selected for a Beijing Municipal Scholarship? Congratulations--you're making us look good!

Scott Galer

 

Two days later and ¥1800 richer, we are eating cake and enjoying a little celebration party. Picking up that cake this afternoon we were a little surprised: “I don’t remember asking them to put those girly flowers on top… Didn’t we ask for a budha?” All well. This kind of thing just happens in China and you just don’t make a big deal about it. After paying the man, Josh pulled a few extra yuan from his wallet:

Me: “Oh, and here is your tip.”

Man: What tip?

We lay the tip down on the counter and run, while he yells at us to stop and chases us to the door. We’ve realized that Chinese workers don’t expect tips and usually try to refuse when you offer them. (Which makes us want to tip them all the more.) What a day! Was buying a self-congratulating cake a little over the top? Yeah, probably… but this is CHINA!!

To top off the evening, we decided to have a slumber party. You know those security cameras in the hallways you’re convinced nobody actually watches? They do here in China. (An incidence of my roommate riding a bicycle in the halls told us that.) I thought it rather cleaver the way we blocked the view of the hallway camera during the four second window it took to smuggle a mattress down the hall into our bedroom. We have fun!

首都师范大学

          My class had a going-away party for me tonight, as I will be heading back to the U.S. a week before the semester ends. Walking back to my dorm tonight I thought: It’s amazing the friendships you can build in such a short experience, even knowing that when it’s over you probably will never see them again. I think that is what makes life worth living—meaningful relationships; loving and being loved. I think one popular country song put it well: “I guess I’d rather hurt, than feel nothing at all.” (Lady Antebellum)
 

Here are some notes I have jotted down throughout the semester:

            Following our last test, my teacher was writing sentences on the board to help the students understand common mistakes. We were given a grammar principle, and expected to create a sentence using it correctly. Reviewing this test, she was writing several students sentences up on the white board, to have us correct. Writing the next sentence on the board, she continued:

“One student wrote this on his test: 我忘记怎么用“难以”造句。” (Which basically means: I don’t remember how to use “nanyi” correctly to create a sentence.) She continued: “Technically this sentence is grammatically correct, so I had to give him full credit. (Looking me straight in the eyes) That was clever, Yichen, but don’t expect that to work on the final exam.” The class roared with laughter.

Coming to CNU has been more of an international experience that I originally had thought. I met with a friend from Russia tonight, on a regular basis I eat lunch with a friend from France, I have many Korean and Italian classmates I interact with on a daily basis, a friend from Uganda attends church with me each Sunday, and the list goes on.

            We have class parties on a regular basis, which often means going out to eat together. My classmates found out early on that I don’t smoke or drink, and for the most part they have respected that. When asked in class how many times I go to the bar each week, one of my Italian classmates shouted out: “He doesn’t drink, teacher.” She didn’t believe it at first, but her attitude was one of admiration. The topic has come up again in class on three other occasions.

            My classmates have invited me to go out drinking many times, but I always respectfully decline. Recently some of my classmates have begun going for a drink at a coffee shop instead, which I thought was a nice change. I’m not sure who was more surprised: them – when I ordered a hot chocolate instead of a coffee, or me – when they all decided to order hot chocolates as well. haha

        

           When I first arrived here, the class I struggled with the most was 写作. The teacher had a heavy Beijing accent and came across not only stern but a little intimidating as well. While I felt comfortable speaking Chinese, writing essays was another ball game. About a month into the semester though, after handing back our essays from the week before, she announced to the entire class: “You should take the opportunity after class to look over Yichen’s paper. It was especially good this week.” Are you kidding me?  I looked down at my essay which  is covered in red ink. 
           As midterm came along, I wasn’t too surprised when I set the class high on my 口语 test, but I never would have thought I would for 写作 as well.

           Have you ever forgotten to prepare for a presentation in class, and just had to make it up on the spot? Yeah, I hate when that happens. Carrying my planner to the front of the class, I look down at its blank pages. I then went on to give a five minute speech, presenting ideas opposite that of most my classmates. I argued that happiness wasn’t found in money, but in loving, meaningful relationships. Not in owning possessions, but in building friendships. Sitting back down in my seat, I took a deep breath. If they only knew.

Classes are fun, but there are a few things I’ve never figured out: When my 汉语 teacher is teaching grammar principles in class, why does she always use my name in the examples? Don’t get me wrong, I actually love hearing my name, but there are eighteen other students in the class.

Each day walking down the halls of our dormitory, you can hear half a dozen different languages on any given day, as students around the world are seeking to learn the Chinese language. I’m the only American (and fluent English speaker for that matter) in my classes. Most of my classmates are from Italy and Korea, making an interesting combination. Many of them have heavy accents, whom I could identify with my eyes closed.

Here in China, each individual class has a 班长 (class president). Their role is to be the mediator between the teacher and the students. If any of my classmates don’t understand the homework, they call me and I help them out. I didn’t want to be class president at first, but I love it now. I collect the homework, hand-out then pick up my classmates quiz booklets, and just assist the teacher with whatever needs done.

James Xie

            When I look back and remember this study abroad, more important than the places I visited, are the people I’ve met. One such individual is James Xie. He is twelve years old and such a good boy, always being a big help for his mother. He runs errands for her when she needs it, and he loves to cook. He has already begun to take on responsibilities that other children his age don’t need to worry about. I wish you could see his smile, because it could melt any girls heart. (Have you ever seen the movie Up? I think he looks just like that kid; he just needs a boy scout uniform.)

I don’t know all the details, but James and his mother were baptized earlier this year. Though both of them are Chinese, they have been allowed to attend church in our branch because his father is a foreign passport holder. (Taiwanese) This is where I come in: Two months after his baptism, James’s father passed away unexpectedly. The ward has done a lot to help where they can, but there wasn’t anyone that James could really connect with. As a ward missionary, I was asked to be a role model for him, and help strengthen his testimony so he would be prepared to stay active when his church records were transferred over to the nationals ward. (Without their fathers foreign passport, the Chinese government will require them to attend church with the Chinese nationals soon)

            James is a little shy when you first meet him. We had talked a couple of times at church, but he took a little while to warm up. The first time he really opened up to me was shooting hoops together in a parking lot near his house. We could only take side shots, as the hoop was pushed up against a wall, but it didn’t matter. We have met several times since then. As we shot hoops, we talked. I swear we’ve discussed everything; the mission he will serve one day, the importance of talking to God in prayer, school and future career plans, etc. (He wants to be a professional chef one day. Can’t you see it?) Being around this cheerful little boy always makes me happy. As I said good-bye to him tonight, I couldn’t help but think: I don’t know if I’ve made much of a difference in his life, but he’s made a difference in mine.

Daily Habits

I have always thought it interesting the impact friends have in our lives. In many ways, aren’t our interests and decisions influenced by those we associate with? Towards the end of September I received an email that really got me thinking:

“My health and wellness class is going alright…We have behavior change contracts that we made up. Basically you pick one thing in your life you feel you could improve and work on it every day. I chose service and my contract is to do at least one act of service every day. So today, I made all of my roommates' beds while they were away and we left them little sticky notes wishing them a great day. It was cool, I'm going to have to start getting creative though ;) haha” -- I made that my goal as well.

   

           This was never intended to be a blog post, but I remembered a general conference talk given about recording experiences in your journal. A quotation from this talk was written on the front of my journal all through my mission: “I heard in my mind these words: ‘I’m not giving you these experiences for yourself. Write them down’ …And so I wrote it down, so that my children could have the memory someday when they would need it.” (Henry B. Eyring 2007)

Most of my acts of service weren’t some amazing, life changing act that would alter the course of someone’s life, but rather a matter of patterning my daily habits after our Savior’s example. Sometimes my act of service was just helping a woman carry a heavy bag up a flight of stairs, or helping a friend move rooms here in the dorms. Once it was simply playing cards with a lonely classmate. A couple of experiences particularly stand out:

It was late one evening and I watched as a middle aged woman got on the bus. She looked as if it had been a long day, and I could tell she was exhausted. When I stood up and offered her my seat, she looked surprised and tried to insist that she was fine standing. The argument ended abruptly though, as I blurted out: “My dad would beat me if he knew I didn’t give you my seat.” She chuckled softly to herself before accepting my offer. I wish I could put into words the way I felt as I saw her gentle smile and heard her words of gratitude. Standing by the door waiting for my stop, I couldn’t help but think: “God, it isn’t fair. How is it that whenever I try to serve someone, I always feel like I received more than I gave?”

Coming back from an afternoon jog I saw a rather disgruntled woman struggling to communicate with Chinese workers at the front desk. My friends Lauren and Tina were trying to help out, but were obviously having communication difficulties, so I went to see if I could help. As it turned out, the woman was Indonesian, and there was confusion about her and her son checking out of the dorms. The Indonesian lady spoke no Chinese and only limited English, but we could communicate enough for me to understand her concern. With some effort of translating between them, everything was straightened out and the Indonesian woman was on her way to the airport with little time to spare.

I think my favorite acts of service though, are those that go by unnoticed. Often they aren’t large acts of service; maybe it was just unclogging a sink in the hall bathroom. (Someone had used paper towels to block the drain and water was spilling out all over the floor.) Another time, I was writing an email to a friend and heard the repeated banging’s of a washing machine down the hall which had tipped over, spraying water everywhere. Trying not to get soaked while unplugging the machine was quite the ordeal, but it felt good knowing that I could make a difference in the world, even if only in a small way.

Through The Eyes Of A Foreigner

          As related in China Road: “The bumpity-bumping on a dirt track causes the large watermelon in the luggage rack to fall onto the head of a child. The child lets out a squeal but seems not to be seriously hurt. No one gets angry. No one threatens to sue. Falling watermelons are just an occupational hazard of travel in China” (149). I’ve never had a watermelon fall on my head while traveling here in China, but I’ve felt some of the uncomfortable aspects of traveling in this highly populated country. On our way to institute one evening, along with about fifteen other people, we waited patiently at a bus stop for our bus to arrive. When the bus finally arrived, it appeared to be completely full. (In fact, filled over capacity. This couldn’t be legal in the U.S.) I’m still not sure how we all fit on that bus, nor how the bus doors were able to close, but we kept a positive attitude reminding ourselves: TIC (This is China).

            Coming back from a week off school, we had a twelve hour train ride in hard seats, on a train filled to twice of its capacity with standing passengers. Let’s be honest, no one can stand for that long, especially not for an entire night. Where do all those passengers end up? In the aisles and on the edges of our seats. It was certainly a memorable night, and all that was missing was a falling watermelon.

            “There are times when we’re out, doing whatever needs to be done, and we turn to each other, and it’s clearly written on our faces what we’re about to do. We communicate to each other without words, saying, it’s time to get our “Chinese” on. Then we start forcing our way onto a bus, squeeze ourselves through a crowd, cut to the front of some semi-existent line, slurp down our food, bluntly point out something, or do some other ‘Chinese’ thing.” (Tina’s Blog)

In China, the common people are known colloquially as the 老百姓 (lao bai xing), literally the ‘Old Hundred Names.’ In my short stay here in China, I’ve found that Chinese people look at themselves more collectively than Americans do. It isn’t uncommon for a Chinese person to begin a statement with something to the effect of: “We Chinese people believe…” An American would seem absurd to begin a sentence like that. Who am I to speak for all other Americans? I think it’s interesting how Americans tend to focus more on individuality.

                Talking with many random Chinese people on buses and in the subway, I’ve talked with individuals with many different backgrounds and discussed a wide variety of different topics. One thing that intrigued me at first, was that most Chinese people aren’t really interested in politics. People don’t really care because they aren’t involved in the process. Why should they care? They can’t do anything about it whether they like it or not. Occasionally in local elections there is a ballot, but it doesn’t mean anything, so it isn’t worth filling out anyways.

More Than Just Words

Finding a table in the crowded cafeteria, I set my tray down, bow my heard and say a prayer. Students are looking on, curious of what I am doing, but it doesn’t bother me. On this particular day, a few memories came to mind of past lessons learned:

Thinking back to my days in high school, I remember my quartet The Wise Guys. Meeting our group, you quickly came to the conclusion that we were appropriately named. What might have surprised people though was that our quartet could often be found praying. We prayed before our performances; we prayed at restaurants before we ate; we prayed before competitions.

Not long after our quartet was formed we were sitting in God Fathers Pizza. When it was suggested we bless the food, my friends looked rather uneasy and a little hesitant about the idea. After some debate, the quartet settled on the idea that we would all hold up menu’s (as if we were looking through them) while someone said the prayer. We thought we were rather clever until the waitress, thinking we wanted to order an appetizer, approached our table half-way through the prayer.

This experience probably wouldn’t have stood out to me, had it not been that later that week we were sitting in Hunan’s Chinese restaurant and saw a Baptist family all hold hands and pray together before their meal. I admired them. I was reminded of our experience earlier that week, and the scripture: “Whosoever shall be ashamed of me…him shall the Son of man be ashamed, when he shall come in his glory…” (Luke 9:26) After that it didn’t matter anymore where we were or who was watching.

As John and I were preparing to part ways, (he would be attending college at Northwest Missouri, and I BYU-Idaho) he wrote me a note: “Up until we started hanging out, I had gone to church, but just to please my mother. After a few prayers before performances… I’ve started to get back into Christianity and believe more and more.” It made me smile to think that of all the crazy things we did together, it was our prayers together he mentioned in our parting letter.

I remember one prayer said as an eleven year old blessing the food. As many of us do, I would rush through the final words of the prayer: “in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.” On this occasion, my Uncle Truman pointed out how sacred those words were and told me that I should slow down and think about the significance of what I was saying. It was a small event, but I have never forgotten this lesson I learned that day.

            Our group was rather immature when we arrived in the MTC. I don’t know what it was like for anyone else, but there were often occurrences of laughter during evening and morning prayers as a district. In the MTC cafeteria you learned to pray with one eye open, for fear that you would finish your prayer and find your desert missing.

            Slowly all that changed. Trying to learn Chinese was a struggle for all of us, and the hymn “I Need Thee Every Hour” began to take on particular significance. By the time we left the MTC, it was our favorite hymn and we sang it often. As we recognized our constant need for God’s help, and as our love for Him continued to grow, it began to be reflected in our prayers – both as a district and as companionships and individuals.

            My last memory is of riding through a terrible snow storm. The roads were icy and visibility almost inexistent. In many ways it was a scary experience, but I remember hearing the fervent prayers of my mother. I was a young child, but if I knew only one thing, it was that God heard her prayers. It gave me confidence that everything would be ok.

A fervent prayer is more than just words.

“It’s Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas!”

The first day of December was spent watching a Christmas program in the business district of Beijing. It was cold outside, but we were bundled up tightly in warm coats and new bought scars. Oh, and we saw Santa Claus!! I mean, he wasn’t as fat as I remembered… and suddenly Asian, but I would recognize that phony beard and red suit anywhere! Hearing Christmas songs sung by a choir of small children and seeing Chinese people dancing to Christmas music just made my day. As the final part of the program, they lit up a giant Christmas tree. I was surprised that it not only was beginning to look like Christmas, but to feel like Christmas. When we thought things couldn’t be better, we woke up the next morning to find it snowing!

I have had a lot of firsts here in China, but having lived in Utah and Idaho, you probably wouldn’t have guessed that skiing would be on that list! My teacher Zhao Laoshi is a frequent skier and occasionally gets special deals. In class this past Wednesday my teacher invited me to take a few friends to the opening day of skiing at Beijing Yuyan International Ski Resort. The best part? It was only ¥20! (Which is only about $3 US)

Tina’s Blog:

It started when I was sitting on my bed, studying. I heard Adam and Josh walking past for lunch and I heard, “something, something, something, Tina, something…” and then they backtracked to my room. They each poked their head in and Adam asked, “if I were to get a hold of tickets for 20 kuai to go skiing on Saturday, would you be in?”

“Oh, most definitely.”

And that was that.

Apparently, since Saturday was the first day of the skiing season for this one resort, they’d sent out texts to a bunch of their regular skiers offering a day of discount tickets exclusively available to them. Adam’s teacher happened to be one of these people, so Adam got a hold of four skiing tickets through her. (Teacher’s pet? haha)

I was talking to them about it later, and we came upon the question and I asked, “have any of you even been skiing?”

Adam grinned. “Nope. That’s why we’re taking you.”

            Waking up early Saturday morning we set off for the resort on a charter bus. I’m still not sure how anyone was able to sleep during the hour and a half bus ride there. Not only was the bus driver smoking cigarettes, but he was also blasting loud music from the radio. (Well, more static than music. haha)

            I can’t tell you how excited I was to step out onto that snow! My hanyu teacher and her snowboarding buddies made sure our skis were strapped on correctly and after a few words of advice, we enthusiastically took off up the foothill. Today was so much fun! Skiing came a lot easier than I thought it would. The hardest thing about the slope was avoiding the other skiers and snow boarders that were crashing all around us. (It was apparent that we weren’t the only ones learning to ski today, and it seemed that many of them hadn’t had much experience on snow and ice.) After watching someone careen out of control, smashing into the net fence, I couldn’t help but smile a little as I helped them back on their feet. 加油

“They actually learned really quickly. I was impressed. The only thing was that since they had no problem speeding down the hill, it took a little bit to convince them that they needed to slow down long enough to learn how to turn… I love skiing. It was great to strap those two planks to my feet again! I’d have to say my favorite part--if not just the feeling of finally being better than Adam and Josh at something (is that a sin?)--was watching the Chinese people trying learn to ski.” (Tina’s Blog)

            Today was an unforgettable day! Spending time with my sister was a definite highlight, and before we left I even tried to challenge my teacher to a race, but she wouldn’t take me up on it. Getting back on the bus I realized just how tired I was, and slept all the way back. Todays round-trip bus ride, clothes rental, and an entire day of skiing was only about $15! You will never find a deal like that in the United States!