The Plane, the Plane, the Plane...

When are we going to get on the plane, when are we going to get off of the plane, hey how long do we have to wait to get on the that plane. It makes me tired. First there were seven total elders from Salt Lake all going to the Bolivia Santa Cruz. The plane ride was quite the rigamarole. When leaving the airport we were delayed because they had to charge up some electrical battery so we had to wait a while at the airport, naturally causing us to miss our connection flight in Houston. So instead of having a 30 minute layover we were delayed for nine hours waiting for the next plane. It departed at midnight and we arrived in Bogota at 6 o clock this morning. It was interesting because while we were waiting for our plane someone from Colombia (she was a member, recognized us as elders and started crying, we found out her father recently committed suicide and was on the plane home to attend his funeral , we prayed with her and she helped us learn some Spanish. Bogota is a crazy place. There wasn't any room for our luggage since it was such a small van so we had to get in and then pile the luggage on top of us. Driving here is like ants in a ant hill. Motorcycles weaving in and out (policemen no less, there are lots and lots of policemen and there is not such thing as tailgating. In fact, some roads don't really have any lanes painted on them. It is fairly cool like 50 or 60 degrees. Breakfast we had some sort of eggs, really good bread, bowl of hot milk, and strange fruit. Anyway it looks like i have to go. It,s hard to know what to do sometimes because they only speak to you in Spanish and by the way these keyboards are not American, its hard to type the right thing.

Love Elder Gilbert