Pale Faces.

For a week I was considered a pale-face as I went down to the Navajo Reservation to build houses. This trip was a delightful combination of three things. It was:

a) physically challenging. my arms are still recovering. good thing I'm pretty dang buff.

b) emotionally challenging. I took part of an Indian voyage to help hunt/herd, kill, clean and eat a lamb, which I regretfully had named, Garve. Note to self: don't name your food. It was the most traumatizing experience of my life. In fact, even writing this brings up memories that are too painful, so I'd like to direct your attention to my sister's blog where you will find a moderately detailed description of how we both became cold blooded killers. And vegetarians.

c) mentally challenging. or mentally challenged. I spent every waking and sleeping second with these people. And I do mean that, we even showered together (calm down, we wore bathing suits) which consisted of us turning the classic "Phantom of the Opera" songs into both rap and screamo mixes. We have lovely voices, thank our lucky stars that our Bishop was there and could hear us from across the park. We will probably be asked to sing in sacrament meeting sometime in the near future.