Driving and Dogs

This last week I drove to Mexico City twice, once with my wife and other with a group of elders. Before I get into what the traffic is like, I’d better explain why I had to make the trip twice. We went to immigration both times to get a green card. Because I have such awful handwriting, I had to go the second time to prove to them that I can never sign my name the same way twice. To be sure, it was a pretty tough price to pay for having poor handwriting and an awful signature. Even though it was less than sixty kilometers it took us more than six hours through very heavy traffic and incredibly confusing roads.

Some things I’ve learned about driving here. If they are not honking at you or flashing their lights, it means that you are sitting and waiting for someone to let you in--which will never happen. Lanes and lights are not absolute. In a way it’s a very practical way of driving—use lanes and lights when they suit the situation or your time frame to get where you want to get. I should point out that in three weeks of driving, I have never seen anyone getting any kind of a ticket. Narrow alley like streets which we would consider to be likely dead ends are often parts of major thoroughfares. Sometimes I almost wanted to pray and hope that my car would fit through…and that no one was coming from the other direction. The last thing I’m going to note, though I could go on forever, is the tope or massive speed bump. These you find everywhere instead of stop signs, and they work very well in regulating the flow of traffic. The only problem is that sometimes they are nearly invisible, and you do not want to cross these guys faster than five miles an hour.   

Last week I got to know one of the local dogs better than I would have liked. I left some of my DNA with him. We were with some sister missionaries at the house of investigator. All the lights had failed and it was groping, black dark. The mother of the house was not home and I could hear a dog barking, but I could not see it. A man’s head appeared over a wall that separated the house’s small patio from the street. I couldn’t quite make out what he was saying, so I drew closer. Ouch! The dog bit me in the ankle before I even saw it, ruining a perfectly good pair of socks. And as I withdrew it bit me again in the shoe. The sister missionaries came to the rescue, cleaning my wound and getting me some antibiotics.

We gave a discussion at a member’s house to a couple of ladies. While we were saying to opening prayer, I had a distinct impression that I should not teach what I had prepared to teach, but instead I should teach the plan of salvation. It turned out to be the perfect thing to discuss with these ladies. One was a young mother who had just lost her baby daughter. When we discussed death and what comes after, the husband of the household found a scripture about the wonderful things that happen to children who die before the age of accountability. The young mother was moved to tears.  I find that I am getting these kinds of promptings often.