Poison

Since students have been coming to the Jerusalem Center for quite a few years now, the shop owners around the city have gotten to know us, and to put it straight, they love us. Previous students from “Mormon University” have given us such an excellent reputation that shop owners treat us extra special.

They also have a knack for recognizing us when we walk by. Many times each day, we’ll hear some Arab man in a thick accent say, “Hello Mormons.” On a few occasions, I’ve asked them how they recognize us, and they’ll throw their hands in the air and say something like, “Because look at these beautiful faces!” One man told me he could tell by our eyes and that God had given him a gift so that he could tell. I just love these people.

One day, some of my friends were exchanging money at a very popular place among us BYU students. I was waiting outside the shop with a few other friends when an Arab man held out some shekels and said in his thick accent, “I’m going to buy some poison.” My friend and I looked at each other confused.

“Poison?”

“Yes,” he held two fingers up to his lips, “You know, cigarettes.” My friend and I tried not to laugh as he wandered away.

A few minutes later, he returned with his hands behind his back. He approached my friend again, held out his newly-purchased cigarette pack and said, “You want to be Jack Mormon?”

Dude, you barely speak English, and you know what a Jack Mormon is!? (In case you don’t, it’s basically a member of the Mormon Church who no longer follows the standards)

Then he sat down at a bench, lit his cigarette, smiled and said, “I am Jack Muslim.”