Chapter V, Part I: On Mormons

I am not a dull man and do not give in to the doldrums of everyday life very easily. For some reason, interesting things tend to find me wherever or whenever I may be. Or vice versa. Last week, for instance, it seems that one of the gods heard my plea for salvation from boredom. And it just so happened to be the god of Joseph Smith. Because last week, I had an encounter with ...

THE MORMONS!

Though I love South Park, they have ruined the simplicity in so many mundane things. For instance, when you hear Mormons or Joseph Smith, you might think Jesus in America, polygamy or Utah. But when I hear these words, I can't but help sing the song from the South Park episode on Mormons that goes like: -

"Joseph Smith was called a prophet, dum dum dum dum dum.
He founded the Mormons' religion, dum dum dum dum dum."

Now as everyone knows (or would agree), there are different types of white people in foreign lands. First you have your smelly dirty hippies who want to get along with everyone and pathetically tell you they've integrated themselves into the foreign society. Then you have your touristy, slightly better-looking whities who're dressed like hippies so as not to draw attention to themselves. But really, they're your typical everyday internet-addicted, confused, spiritual-but-not-religious liberal whities. And finally, you have the well-off and more grounded white people who are borderline racist and can't wait to get back to their apartments and consumerist lifestyle. As I found out, Mormons are unlike any of these. They are as alien to foreign lands as they are back home. Interestingly, though they are white, their features resemble those of the Aryan Pakthuns and give off an aura of, well, a lost people within an alien civilization.

So anyways, our encounter was not deliberate, but certainly instigated by our mutual curiosity. I was standing outside my office when these two white guys in white shirts, black pants, geeky ties and small bagpacks hanging loosely behind them walked by. I assumed that they would assume that I was a Guatemalan and just walk on. But lo, they did look upon me, smiled and said, "Buenos dias", to which I doth replied, "Hi! Hey, art thou Mormons?"

And behold, they stopped in their tracks, astonished that their language had been spoken by one who resembled the others.

"We are the people of the Latter Day Saints, yay! Who art thou, stranger? And wherefore upon this most holy of lands did you learn that which is spoken in the good state of Utah, amen?"

Verily, my curiosity thus did ariseth and I continued to inquire. "Indeed, thou art the people of Joseph Smith. I am called Umair, of the tribe of the Syeds from a distant and warm land of afar. Come thou to Guatemala to preach thine religion of Mormonism?"

"We have indeed, verily, yay!", they replied.

Ok, this is exhausting. In my head, that is exactly how our conversation went down, especially because of the things we spoke of and the sheer adamant tone they had for their faith. These introductions went on for a while and we eventually found ourselves taking a walk (yes, I know I said I was at work but I barely ever do anything and nobody really cares if I disappear days on end, let alone for an hour). The two had to get back to their church and I wanted to know where it was and if it was any different from the other shabby and unkempt churches across Coban. Shockingly, it was by far the most out-of-place edifice I have ever seen in Coban. But more about that later.