I'm trying not to be bored

Dear, Adatti Vernici Schioccati
This email will send when I get wifi. That may take a while as:
-Novara has no wifi in it.
-We didn't make it to the church
-Tomorrow we have to go to Brescia for my companion's Permesso.

He's in his 14th transfer, and yet he still has to go apply for a new
one though he'll be home in three months. This is Italian/mission
beauracracy. Anziano Jaques, from Boise, he draws and is a really fun
guy.

We're making the best out of Novara. It's not bad, we're just...alone
out here. If Italy was like the USA, Novara is like the city: Grand
Island. Never heard of it? It's because it is in Nebraska, and that's
how I am beginning to feel. It is just the Italian Midwest, lest
spunk, more dowdiness. I'm not complaining, I'm just putting it how it
is; I'd LIKE to leave sometime in the future, but I'm also not going
to escape...unless I start melting. I could stay here for a long time
and have no problem with that.

We teach a lot of inactives. We taught a guy named Gian Luca in
Vigevano; the first time we'd met him (Anz. Young and I) we gave him a
Book of Mormon. As we met him this second time, he'd already read to 1
Nefi chapter 20. We're definitely sticking with this guy, whenever we
can get out there!!

I've done some reflecting, and I partially consider myself able to
write some in Italian, so enjoy this poem I made for you:

-Or sono; Mi parse così
Or sei; Le tue vestigia ne seguì
Fiamma vivissima, il tuo sorriso fu
Il sacro fuoco guida, e mi pigli tu
Or sono; Mi parse un secolo
Or sei, non mai troppo lontano
Incendio baldanzoso, l'amore sempre c'è
-Mi butto nei braci, il motivo—? Ardevo per te

Anyway, I'm gonna go na
Love,
--Anziano Benge