A year ago, we were going to church here-

If you look closely, you can see it's a military tent and someone built a steeple at the entrance. Going to church at the transit center was a little different- OK- REALLY different. But it was great too. First off, it took 45 minutes to drive there. It's way out of town and we pass through a lot of farm land on the way. We see lots of donkeys and cows along the side of the road. I'll NEVER forget the time I saw a BOY- seriously he could not have been more than 8 years old, riding a donkey, whipping it hard, RIDING CRAZY FAST, herding a bunch of sheep or something, all by himself. No one else was there helping him. I don't remember the details of the animals, I just know I was looking at a little boy riding hard, doing serious work! Greg and I both saw it and our minds were BLOWN. 

Once we arrive at the Transit Center, there are guys with guns at the entrance and we show them our badges and they let us in. Then we have to go through security. We park the car, open all the doors, etc and they search our car. One time, we had a baton in our car and got held up a REALLY long time, because it was a weapon and we couldn't take any weapons on base. Oh man, we always forgot to take that thing out of our car, so Greg would pull over across the street and ditch it in some fallen leaves or long grass to hide it, then we'd pick it up on our way home. While they search our car we empty our pockets into tubs, just like at the airport and then  our bodies would get scanned. But I had to stop once I got pregnant. At that point they'd just scan me with a wand, maybe I got frisked once, I don't remember. Once we get through security, we get BACK in our car and drive to the church tent. It was always so hard, because our kids would always fall asleep on the way, so to wake them up, just to put them right back in was TORTURE. They would cry and fight every time. 

On the way, there would be military men and women, walking or running to and fro- all wearing the same clothes. There were military tents everywhere. There was a fence all around with razor wire on top. People would always comment, walking by us, saying something like, "I wish they'd let ME bring my family!" or they'd almost swear seeing our kids because they just came from overseas and hadn't seen a kid in forever and had were just thinking, "What is a toddler doing on base?! What is going on!?!!" People were always shocked to see us. But also, people would go out of their way to talk to us and tell us they had a kid the same age at home. It always broke my heart to think of these men and women away from their families, especially their young children.

 The Catholic service was always right before ours, so often we would see other people from the embassy come out and we'd talk for a bit before our service. The first sunday, we sang to recorded hymns, after that I played the piano. Attendance varied from 20 people to just 2. For a good month or so, it seemed there were only 2 other guys there and our family. I remember one time, the kids were being terrible and Greg took them out during church and suddenly it was me at the piano, someone at the pulpit and one person in the "congregation" and I thought it felt so strange and hollow. Each service had the room for an hour, so that's what we did. Each week, one person give a talk and one person would teach Gospel Doctrine. It was quite a rustic atmosphere. Thick wires were all along the tent walls. I would often see big dead bugs on the floor, here or there, and all the people in attendance (except us) were either wearing cammo with boots or sweat pants and a T shirt. They would bless the sacrament wearing that too. 

After church we would all walk to the cafeteria and eat whatever they were serving. It was always steak and lobster, and at that time I wasn't really eating meat so I pretty much starved away. There were cookies and ice cream and candy everywhere, and it unfortunately became the kids dinner every week. We tried to get them to eat other things, but it became such a fight we just gave in by the end. We always all sat together and talked. It was so nice. It felt so refreshing to talk with Americans. And not Embassy Americans. It was just a nice relaxed vibe. We really grew fond of a couple of men there and looked forward to seeing them every week. Then we'd grab a couple candy bars and drive home in the dark. Once the winter came, the pollution in the city became so obvious on the drive home and it was so disgusting. And that's how Sunday was every week, for around 10 months- and then the Transit Center closed.

Now church is in our living room and this is our church group-

Straight ahead are the Carson family, to the right are the Boles (with Tricia in the corner by Greg). The coffee table is where the sacrament is blessed. It's great, because the Carson's have 2 sons who are in Young Mens, so the teacher prepares the sacrament, the men take turns blessing it and the Deacon  passes it to all of us! I really think it's neat how everyone has their roles. The usual Sunday involves us sitting around the room, like this, and Greg welcomes everyone and we sing an opening hymn and I play the piano. After prayer and any announcements, (which surprisingly happen!) we sing a sacrament hymn, have the sacrament and then we turn on a talk from Conference, from online. We're just making our way through them. We turn on the tv and you see the Netflix and Hulu icons, along with movie titles and their pictures. I wish we could figure out how to NOT have that open up when we get the talk ready. I'm sure we can do it, we just never get to doing it. We used to stream it and it often got stuck and paused along the way, but lately we've been downloading them so we don't have any issues- but it's surprising how many issues DO come up, and suddenly we have to stream. One Sunday the internet wasn't working at all and Greg had to come up with a talk in 5 minutes. The kids are restless, just like in church at home and I have the quiet books, water and snacks right by our chairs, otherwise they end up running to the kitchen in the middle of church. Then after the talk we usually comment around the room, then we close with another hymn and a prayer. Next the boys go to the dining room and have Young Mens and the April and I do primary, while Tricia helps "monitor" the kids. April teaches a lesson and she is AMAZING at it, and I do music. And that's church. It all works out pretty great. I think the whole thing is 1 1/2 hours. We don't stick to a time, we just sort of do it. It's really nice. I'm really glad we have others to help with it all. Oh yeah, Greg and I always provide the bread, and one day I didn't make any on time, so we had Saltine Crackers. We even have a sacrament tray and little cups! Oh yeah, once a month we decided to have the boys take over Primary so the women can have Relief Society and Tricia will teach. It all works out pretty great.

When we went back to the States, I was convinced that church was going to be so amazing and almost "better" in the states, because it would be with a real ward. I was really surprised it wasn't that way at all. The spirit really is the same. It doesn't matter how many people you have or where you are. If you sit down to worship together, the spirit IS there. It's been a nice experience.