Piura, Peru was great. The Cueva family treated me very kindly. I was not very flexible and they had to go way out of their way to accommodate me. They did so cheerfully. For the first month I did little but study the language. I took books in Spanish and read them referring to the English version when I was puzzled. It worked well. I worked so hard at it that I was taking two naps a day.
One night in Peru I thought about flying saucers and wondered, assuming they were real, how they flew. I thought about several different things that had been observed and began to speculate. I followed a certain line of thinking and found myself with an idea of how they might work. The idea would not let go of me and I was up all-night thinking about it. I really wanted to sleep but felt as if I were being forced to think more about this invention. I envisioned many forms of the original idea. It stayed with me for days. Later I asked physics and engineering people about it and they confirmed it might work; how well and how efficient they weren’t sure. I have attempted a couple of prototypes, but so far, they haven’t performed as I need them to, to really test the idea.
In Piura at the private university, I was well liked and this surprised me. I wasn’t conscious of it at first. But I soon became busy attending one social function after another. I often went with my friends to drink. I would help buy them their beer and they would buy me some Peruvian pop. I really liked a lot of them and they treated me very well. I believe that the Lord was with me as I loved them and sought to understand their language. Piura was just recovering from the El Nino weather of 1982-1983. There had been a lot of flooding and road damage. Despite the problems, being there was wonderful.
I began to look for this special person I was told I would meet. I pictured a wise man or someone charismatic. Several time I met people whom I thought was the one only to be disappointed. Then at a party an hermosa chica, a beautiful girl asked to dance with me. Later she invited me to visit her at her home and we became close friends. Magali delighted in talking about God and truth. Knowing her was pure delight and I quickly began to love her. We read some great books together and found joy in each other’s company. Something (her being Catholic and I being Mormon?) made her pull away from me for a while. After what had happened with Beth I wasn’t going to hold on.
I went on a trip to Cusco with others from the school I attended. While in Cusco I was kissed. It was a deep French kiss. It was my first. I was 28 and I had never let it happen before, but thinking of losing Magali made me feel discouraged over keeping such a firm grip on my high ethics. All I had so far was a lot of unfulfilled prophecies. So, I kissed back. But it was like I was following a computer program. The passion was faked. I was not excited nor aroused. It was a sign of my despair. Back in town Magali still seemed distant so I decided to leave. I went to Trujillo to live with Liliana, a cousin of Rosanna’s. There I met a girl and suddenly I was finding out way too much about sex. I prayed; I was told to go home. I packed and was home in Utah by early January.
Many years later I was to discover that a joke, perhaps one could call it a divine joke was played on me. While in Piura, Peru I shared with Rosanna Cueva that I was searching for someone important before God. I told her and we met a lot of people together. When I developed love for Magali I supposed maybe that important person was her. Now 35-40 years later that important person is obviously Rosana herself. She went on to fearlessly fight for Democracy and against corruption in Peru. She has become a famous journalist and a prominet news caster in Peru. In the years that followed I came to admire and love her dearly.
In 1984 just before going to Peru I had had a dream about buying a small yellow car. In the dream I knew it was made in 1979. What made the dream stand out in my mind was that this was too new of a car for me. I like to stay with older car partly because it’s a better value. Also, because a lot of people tend to place much of their identity in their possessions, especially cars. It seems that those with the nicest cars are the quickest to deny this. I also believe that we should try not to invite the coveting of others. We should always lag behind the Jones in material things. This attitude made me wonder when I had the dream. The car was too new.
Back from Peru I needed a car and found a small yellow 1979 Fiat. Dad and I checked it out and I decided to buy it. I believe in allowing dreams to guide me though I am no slave to them. Because of problems it had later, I was led to a most enlightening experience.
While a young mechanic was working on my Fiat, I was reading ‘Return from Tomorrow’ by George Ritchie. I was in love with what it said and couldn’t help asking the mechanic if he would like to hear a little. He said sure. So, I read it to him. He liked it and I was startled to have him quote Paul in the New Testament. I couldn’t see his face only his feet. Talking to his feet became a little strange and I was glad when he popped out to get some other tools and I got to see his face.
Wayne and I became friends. It turned out he was a missionary for a church called Way International. I went with him to a lot of meetings. But their efforts to convert me did not succeed. It wasn’t right to deny the good in my own religion to receive the good of theirs. I began to feel unwelcome and eventually quit going. But Wayne and I continued to be close. He needed a new suit of clothes. I had been given a new suit in place of some money someone owed me. It did not fit me, but fit Wayne perfectly. So, I gave it to him. He paid me something and we were both pleased with the exchange.
Wayne had a strong testimony that the church he served was created and inspired of the Lord. He knew that he was doing the right thing to serve this mission seeking members for his faith. I felt that he was right and that the Lord was directing him as he thought. However, I knew that this didn’t deny my Mormon faith. I could see that his religion appealed strongly to many who would never have been interested in the Mormon church. Their leader usually rode a motorcycle, I think he liked Harleys. He appealed to others like him. These were people not likely ever to feel comfortable in the Mormon church. I felt the Spirit with them and I was so glad for them. He didn’t have too much difficulty with my point of view and we continued friends until he left town.