Departure from Bacau

Hello Family,

Well, it's true, I am finally leaving Bacau. It is quite an interesting sensation to leave behind a city in which I have worked and labored so hard for the last 6 consecutive months. As bitter-sweet as it may be, I felt as if it were my time to sign off, so to speak. I am no longer what is needed here, though I have high hopes for what will happen in this city in the near future. There are many great members, most of them rather new in the gospel and eager to be trained. I am also leaving behind a good amount of serious potential investigators that I hope will be picked up and who will continue to progress with Elder Rigdon and whoever it is that will be taking my place.

This last week was a rather good one to top off the transfer and my sojourn in Bacau. We have continued meeting with the younger couple from the Ukraine and Moldova. They really enjoy our visits and we have had some really good discussions with them -- along with some really good fried Russian fish, cake and chocolates. We have also had some really good discussions in the blocks, averaging between three and four a night, which is quite good. On Saturday, we had a killer-good activity that was just loads of fun. We all met at the church building at 12:00 and walked over to a park about 20 minutes away that I had never even heard of. Apparently, it is an island, about 5 square kilometers, in the middle of a dirty river. Rare in Romania, this island has been made into a very nice picnic park complete with trees and grass and grills, etc... Over twenty members, investigators, and missionaries were in attendance to eat mici, hamburgers, sausages, pineapples, and potato chips in between games of soccer and ultimate frisbee. Our super-fun game of ultimate frisbee, I should add, was the very first time I have played a real game since coming on my mission! As you may imagine, I was appropriately giddy. Mani, one of the young men (22) who just returned from a mini-mission about 5 weeks ago, brought with him his American football, which he had received as a gift from his district leader. It is a really nice ball, complete with a dedication to him in permanent marker, and he has really treasured it ever since his mission. He and Elder Baker were playing catch when the ball rolled down a hill and on into the freezing, mucky dark water. By the time Elder Baker had removed his shoes, it had floated out of his reach. A courageous member - Alin - shamelessly stripped down to his skivvies and ventured daringly into after the gradually retreating pig-skin. Not a powerful swimmer, however, and being kind of a smaller guy, I went down to the shore, myself, preparing to rescue him once he got to the ball and was too tired to get back. Only a couple of yards away from the ball, however, Alin gets too cold and tired to go on and turns back thwarted. Scott, an investigator from English, tentatively begins swimming, himself, before pronouncing definitively, "It's too cold, just let it go." The ball is currently about 30 feet from the shore and heading down stream. Pained to the core at the thought of losing a really good ball because nobody can swim out a couple of feet - and not even thinking once about the whole, not allowed to swim as a missionary thing - I kick off my shoes, take off my sweatshirt, and begin wading after it in my corduroy pants, socks, and t-shirt. I quickly discover that there is about two feet of muck making wading a poor option, so I promptly plunged forward after the ball. Just as quickly, I realized a few things simultaneously: 1) The water is, indeed, very cold. 2) I had vastly over-estimated the speed with which I - the thoroughly experienced swimmer from Florida - would cut boldly through the water. I discovered that, in fact, a combination of being in poor shape and weighed down by the clothing made for rather slow, chugging progress. 3) Slow progress plus delayed gratification in combination with the cold and dirty water quickly replaced the initial surge of adrenaline with rapid exhaustion. Seeing the ball still floating off, I turn on my back and begin a more relaxed butterfly stroke, hoping only that my pace would surpass that of the current carrying it away. Just as I start to really enjoy the long-missed sensation of gliding through the water, I did, in fact, reach the ball and found it to be an excellent flotation device. As I came in to shore, I met mixed reactions. The missionaries were cheering me on, jealous of my feat. The young girls had fled for towels. The young men were coming to get me out of the water as quick as possible, convinced that I was on the brink of death. And the old ladies, had they cell phones, would surely have called for air evacuation to a warm, anti-current facility until I fully recovered from what must surely be a life-threatening trauma -- all for a silly ball. For my own part, I felt great! Though a bit tired and a bit numb all over, I had saved the ball, and was ready for some mici. Dodging the old ladies and their barrage of unfounded concerns, I walked with Pres. Balasei over to the public restroom, where I stripped down and strained out my clothes. Romanians, you may remember, have the crazy idea that wind (or current) will make you sick. Getting your hair wet accelerates the contraception of the illness. Getting fully wet on a windy day in cold water is signing your death warrant. "I won't get sick." 'Of course you will, your lungs are probably full of water by now.' "No really I feel fine." 'Go home and get warm for a couple of hours and drink tea.' "How about I just eat some hamburgers." 'You have to take off all your clothes immediately. Take off all your clothes and just wear this towel, and blanket.' "I'm gonna go play soccer to dry out and get warmer. If I'm sick tomorrow, you have permission to beat me." And with that, I did go to play soccer, I did get dry, and I did not get sick. In fact, I had a bit of a sore throat when I woke up Saturday, but after going for the swim, I haven't felt the least indication of a cold or illness of any sort.

Sunday, we had a really good service with President Chirila (Pres. Ashby's first counselor) and Elder Shawver (ZL) speaking. For Sunday School, I helped Mihaella (baptized last month) teach her very first lesson in her new calling. She is super bright, and she will do a great job in filling that role. We taught about how Christ is the bread of life.

Well, I have to get going, but I really do want to tell you how much I love being a missionary and feeding Christ's sheep by inviting them to feast upon his words and to partake of the sacrament each Sunday, which meal is so essential in our spiritual nourishment. I know that Christ is my Redeemer and that He and His gospel have a greater power to change and improve lives than any other force on earth. I love you and thank you for your support. Thanks for all the work you did on my college readmission and even more for the example you are for me in your service in the church, not just now, but since I can remember.

I love you much,
Elder Walker