A Walk to Remember

We've enjoyed early morning walks together for years. I can picture in my mind the neighborhood landmarks, the kids walking to the corner to catch the school bus, the backyard fences on 4800 West where we brace ourselves for the robust barking through the slats of a particular yard, the sounds of traffic and the occasional siren, the otherwise peaceful feeling of a new day beginning. But the walk along the sea wall of Apia harbor is a walk I will never forget.

Going west from the bus station is a walking path atop the sea wall. This was our first time, and really just a sampling. It extends far beyond the length we walked, and someday I hope we will walk it end-to-end. Come, walk with us.

Looking back towards Apia, the one city on the island, you can see the bus station and beyond that, but not really visible from here is the fresh fish market.

What's that in the water? What the .... Is it a man's shoulder and arm? Maybe it's an elephant's trunk.










Wait .... where are we? That looks like a hippo!

Back to reality.  Good morning, world!

On the land side of the sea wall is a lovely park way with foot path.

Moving along, now we have a clear view of the road.  This theme is repeated 

on signs here and there along the roads and byways. I'll take this over graffiti any day.

                                      And the rest of the banner:

Left is a reminder of a bloody time in Samoan history; a time of civil war and foreign interference. Thankfully, America supported the rights of the people to govern themselves, while Germany and England manipulated and fanned the fires, flexing their political and military power to serve their own ends. It would take far more space than a simple marker to list the fallen Samoan warriors.

The building on the left below is the location of last Sunday's Christian churches choir concert.

It also marks the end of our first walk along the sea wall.  

It won't be our last. People travel farther to the local gym at home. 

This is truly a walk to remember.

Home Is the [Fisherman], Home from the Sea

At the west end of Apia harbor, next to the bus station is the Fresh Fish Market, an open air pavillion with a high ceiling, cement floor, and long end-to-end steel tables with lipped edges. It is here the fishermen bring their night's catch to market.

To experience the fish market you must arrive before dawn.

Brothers, cousins, watch and wait, ready to help.

Fishermen haul their catch to the pavillion in iced coolers. As early as it is, you can see that before long the ice is melting.  They display their treasures with the eye of an artist. Splashes of brilliant color are placed among the dominant shimmering silver-blue and grey.

 

They're waiting for restauranteurs and grocers to come and empty their tables and fill their pockets.  

They do not wait alone.

And come they do. The painted fellow is here to purchase albacore to roast in a traditional umu (hot rock oven) as part of the cultural arts demonstrations at the annual Teuila Festival going on all week. The only 'paint' is what you see on his face. The rest is painfully permanent.

Folks like us also buy. We have no competition this early in the morning. Luckily, we found a few cross section cuts of albacore for sale. We bought two at $20 tala each, which translates to less than $10 American each.

Home are the Missionaries, Home from the Market.

I hope to remember this day for a very long time. Everything about this experience was spiritual. The breaking dawn over the harbor, throwing delicate colors across the water; the boats at anchor, the fishermen hauling the night's catch to market, and knowing they will be out on the sea again soon. How many times has this scene been repeated? How many generations have fished these waters, living by, on, and from the sea? I am touched by these people and their connection to the past. 

I mentioned that just west of the fish market is the bus station. In other words, this is where it all begins for the buses. There is no terminal. Just a designated place where they line up, all decked out in the colors of the rainbow. Soon they will be jam packed with people sitting on top of each other and hanging out the windows. But for now, there are plenty of seats.

Oh, Samoa, I never will forget you!

Revelation

Thursday I got my hair cut.  Karen Ho-Ching introduced me to Eka Arp, a beautiful mixed blood Samoan, a young mother of four who owns her own salon and employs several others.  This was the 4th time she has cut my hair. Her employees do the shampooing. The first time I got quite a shock from the cold water. Whoa! But once you know what’s coming, it isn’t half bad.  Cools you right off.  They give a nice scalp massage after the final rinse.  The second cut she gave me was months ago.  It was the day her little niece was born.  She had been at the hospital half the night to support her sister, Brownyn and witness the birth of a beautiful baby girl. She was sharing pictures on her ipad  with her staff when I arrived. That was also the day before she was to travel to the island of Manono for an incredible family event. Some important background is needed.

Manono is a small island, part of the Samoan group of islands, a short distance off the west end of Upolu.  It is a closely held island by those whose heritage there is long. Visitors must wear traditional lava lava (wrap-around skirt worn by both men and women).  Eka’s family owns the property where anyone would anchor. The family has spent years, at least a decade, building sleeping fales and a large fale used for celebrations and feasts, working on it whenever they had time. These are right on the beach front and visible for quite a distance for approaching watercraft.

 

Eka’s aunt, living stateside, had been diagnosed with a terminal illness. She had said she would like to renew her wedding vows with her husband. They were approaching their 50^thwedding anniversary and the kids got together and made a plan, which their dad accepted and supported. They would stage an elaborate wedding celebration on Manono and trick the aunt into coming on some other pretext. They told her some story of having just hosted a wedding party there, so she wouldn’t suspect it was for her when she saw the decorations.  I’ve forgotten the details, but it was a great plan that involved many trips back and forth to bring food and decorations and equipment to prepare for this huge family event.  Eka was up to her ears with the preparations and excitement, receiving several phone calls on her cell phone while she was cutting my hair. While Eka was up to her ears with excitement, her scissors were bringing my hair up to MY ears. Holy cow it was short. She even used the clippers around my ears!  I casually observed, “I think you cut it a little short.”  “Really?”, she said, “I don’t think so.”, smiling that beautiful smile at me in the mirror and admiring the cut.  That was what prompted me to ask Leon to give me my next cut. About 6 weeks later.

I’ve been back twice now, careful not to take her attention away from the task at hand for too long at a time. She’s a delightful person and I enjoy hearing about her family.  So, this is what I really wanted to tell you. I was talking about trying to learn the language and she gave me a revelation. She told me that she was on an endowment session when the Fifes were still here. It was a Samoan language session. Elder Fife was officiating. He knows Eka, had spoken to her in Samoan many times (remember he served his mission here as a young elder), so he was shocked to see that she was wearing a headset during a Samoan language session. He asked her about it afterwards, and she told him that the language spoken in the endowment session is the high language, and is so different from the common language that it took all her concentration to ‘translate’ what she was hearing into the Samoan she could understand.  That was when I told her how frustrating it is for anyone trying to learn (by listening to conversations) to pick up on words and begin to understand when they constantly substitute the letter ‘k’ for the letter ‘t’!!!!!!  One day I was in the locker room with a group of ordinance workers who were talking to each other, and I swear, every other word was a ‘k’ word!!! I just couldn’t stand it and I blurted out, “K k k k k k k !!!!! What’s with all the ‘K’s???? There aren’t that many ‘k’s in your language!  I can’t understand anything you’re saying!!!!  They had a good laugh.  Of course nothing has changed. I refuse to give up yet. Leon and I have both added one more ordinance to our Samoan knowledge.  Evidently that isn’t going to be much help in daily conversation. But if we meet up with a chief, we may have the advantage. Haha.

Yesterday, September 1^st, was our last day at the temple until the 16^th of September (your Sunday/our Monday). With the temple closing for cleaning (and who knows what else, i.e., replacing carpet or touching up paint, we don’t know) we were busy all week.  Now this week is the annual Teuila Festival in Apia. In fact tonight, Sunday, September 1^st, there is a night of choral music from the various churches on Upolu. We are leaving in a few minutes to go in support of the Upolu North Stake. We’ve highlighted a few things we hope to see and do this week as part of this celebration, which Leon refers to as the Tooele Festival. 

It’s now 3 ½ hours later and we’ve returned from the evening of Christian choral music. I’m not being prejudiced when I say our stake choir was the one performance where I felt the Lord’s spirit. It was beautiful.  Leon estimates 120 voices in our choir.  If you’ve ever heard Samoan voices raised in song, then you understand what a joy it is to experience. We enjoyed all the choirs.

One more thing before I close. Leon told me after church today that Bishop Vaaulu felt strongly that we should be assigned to home teach another family, and he took Meredith’s and Lupe Ieramia away from us. We were sadly disappointed to lose those two families before we hardly got acquainted. Now I think it is a blessing because we have made two friends that we can continue to get to know even though we don’t have the assignment, plus another sister we may not otherwise have met. And get this – she is Eka’s older sister, Brownyn Keil, who had just given birth the day Eka cut my hair so short. I tell you, life here is one eternal round. 

We have an invitation to visit Lupe Ieremia’s  village out past the wharf on the west end of Upolu next Saturday to see where she grew up. She said she and her siblings had rocks thrown at them because they joined the church. She remembers walking what seemed to her to be a long way to church on Sundays, her mother carrying a basket made of coconut palm leaves full of food for the family to eat between meetings. Her father would carry the twin babies in baskets which he fastened on the ends of a pole and carried across his shoulders. This was back when meetings were not all held back to back, so the members would sit on mats outside and eat their lunch.

Every post I write, I hope has something of interest to you. Our life here is so full of surprises and unexpected blessings and challenges. We are on a grand adventure with lessons to be learned along the way. I hope every couple whose circumstances permit will choose to serve a mission.  I don’t know what the future holds for us when we return, but if we are able, we both hope to serve a second mission.  We would need some time in between to enjoy our family and reconnect with friends, but then, why not?

The Upolu West Stake Choir, Aren't they beautiful? You should hear them sing.

Here are some pictures of special people we would never have known but for this mission:

 Jim and Fiesta Merrick, who left early due to health issues. We miss them so much. Right now they are staying with their daughter in Hawaii before returning to their home in Texas.

Above: Sister Nele Moaga. I told her she needs to marry a good man who could serve as temple president because she would be an excellent matron. She laughed. A definite type A personality.

Above: Sister Tevete. I want to put her in my pocket and take her home with us. She is adorable, loveable and fun. She is our age, has been widowed for a long time and served a proselytizing mission here before this temple mission. Actually, so did Sister Moaga. She and Sister Moaga are companions. They are a sweet version of the Odd Couple. I love them both.

The Crowley House of Commas

We’ve had a LOT of rain. A week ago it rained all night Saturday and all day Sunday.  There were times when it was coming down so hard that it woke us up. We had showers off and on all week, and then again this Saturday and Sunday it really came down.  We took the mission van to town Saturday after the temple with Sister Moaga and Brother and Sister Sauni to get our groceries for the week.  Our last stop was the open market which is a large outdoor market where the local people sell their produce and handicrafts. You can buy a hand of bananas, a stalk of sugar cane, fresh papaya, coconut, Chinese cabbage, lemons, limes, taro, tamu (yam), tomatoes, cucumbers, star fruit, pineapple in season, cooked taro in coconut milk, palusami, breadfruit, niu, breadfruit chips, taro chips, banana chips, charcoal equivalent which is coconut shells, Samoan oranges which are not orange, handcrafted necklaces, earrings, bracelets, woven baskets, fresh flower arrangements usually featuring the blossoms of the ginger plant. This is also where our son-in-law, James Merrell, found his beautiful conch shell.  On this day, even with our umbrellas, we were all pretty wet by the time we finished.  The market is covered by tarps, but in between the tarps and from the van to the tarps was enough to get us plenty wet.

We wonder if it is the rain that has brought more than the usual number of millipedes into our apartment. We were encouraged to put a barrier of sorts inside our front threshold to discourage the creeping things from entering.  We did that.  It is the same idea as those used sometimes at home to keep the draft out on cold winter days.  We call it the millipede speed bump. Leon sprayed it with some repellent, so mostly they come here to die. They make it over the speed bump but don’t last long. When they die, they curl up in the shape of a comma.  England has nothing on us. They may have their House of Commons, but we have our House of Commas.

When Ho-Chings were here they told of a time when it rained so long and hard that their apartment was flooded. The water rose up about a foot outside their apartment causing the bugs to climb above the waterline in masses. We were so relieved when she said that our apartment didn’t flood. The image as she described it would have given me nightmares if ours was in danger.

We like our apartment. It isn’t furnished as nicely as some, especially the teachers’ housing where we lived in the ‘70’s. But we’ve learned that the back-up generator that services the buildings and apartments in the temple complex, (mission home, service center, distribution center, translation and travel offices, temple president’s home and missionary apartments) does not service the teachers’ housing.  So, though our living arrangements are simpler, but when the power goes off, the generator kicks in within 10 seconds.  Not so for the teachers. During the cyclone and the aftermath in December they were without power for two weeks.  We remember those outages from before. We were without power many times and for extended periods. They would give designated hours each day when we would receive power for a couple of hours to keep our refrigerator and freezer cold. We would plan ahead so when we opened either appliance, we knew what we were after and got out quickly. So the teachers tease that we live in the celestial kingdom.

Two things have happened recently that are significant blessings to us. As missionaries, our membership records remain in our home ward in the states, so we wouldn’t necessarily receive a calling here. Leon asked the high priest group leader in the ward we attend if we could be given a home teaching district. Brother Craig was happy to comply. There were a couple of sisters who both needed home teachers and they were praying to know who should be assigned to visit them.  We were given three homes to visit:  Sister Lupe Ieremia, Sister Daphne Keil Papali’I, and the Meredith family.  We love these families already after one visit.  This has filled a need in our lives that I couldn’t have described but only felt.  To be in the homes of these people, learn their histories and who they are is to love them.  I will devote a post to them so you can get to know them too. I will just say that when our young tour guide at the Polynesian Cultural Center many years ago, called us ‘cousins’ because “In Samoa we are all cousins”, she wasn’t far off.  I need to take notes on our visits to be able to remember all the connections to other families we know of in the ward, or have known before.

Leon has taught twice in the high priest group and will teach a third time in November.  Now I’ve been called to teach the 3^rd Sunday lesson in Relief Society. I’ve always wanted to teach in Relief Society.  And then Sunday, Brother Paramore, counselor in the bishopric, asked us to speak in sacrament meeting next Sunday on the blessings of the temple.  We approach the assignment with great humility. We are always so strengthened by the sacrament meeting talks, including the youth speakers. We are blessed to attend the Pesega Lima Ward.  Our Sunday School teacher is the church historian for Samoa and a masterful teacher.  There are 15 young missionaries currently serving from the ward and another young man has his call. 

Speaking of missionaries, in just the last week 26 new missionaries arrived at the mission home - eleven from the New Zealand MTC and later, fifteen from Provo.  We were at the temple when fifteen elders came on Friday.  It is unusual that most were palagi.  I happened to be by the baptistery and laundry as they came to turn in their temple clothes.  A couple of elders lingered, taking in the beautiful font. I had the opportunity to point out to them that this temple is one of only three that features a font resting on the full bodies of the twelve oxen. Most are represented by the front half of the oxen, but don’t extend the hind quarters under the font. Then I asked them what they thought the oxen represented. They didn’t have much trouble answering that one. Then I asked them the meaning of the symbolism of the baptismal font resting on their backs.  This one proved more difficult. The light went on when I reminded them that Abraham was promised that through his seed all of mankind would be blessed. The responsibility for taking the gospel to the world and providing the saving ordinances required for salvation and exaltation rests upon the twelve tribes of Israel.  I love the temple.

Pictured below is a photo Leon took of a painting that hangs in the mission home representing the first missionary couple to serve in the islands of Samoa, Joseph Dean, his wife, child and infant daughter arrived in the 1880's. The painting also hangs in the temple foyer. I am often where I can gaze on it and imagine what it must have been like for them. Those first missionaries were pioneers in the truest sense.  The work continues to go forward. I found an interesting site, cumorah.com, giving brief history and 2009 statistics of Samoa.  Here is a pertinent segment of the information found there.

Faiths

Christian: 98%

other: 2%

Christians

Denominations                   Members  Congregations

Latter-day Saints                  69,244       133

Congregational                     64,512

Catholic                                37,248

Methodist                             27,456

Assemblies of God             13,248

Seventh Day Adventists       8,534           40 (includes American Samoa and Tokelau)

Jehovah's Witnesses              391            9

We send our love to all of you and prayers for your health and happiness. Alofa atu ia te oe.

 Clark Kelly Price, Artist

From the sublime to the gross. This was our biggest morning harvest yet. 

The color scheme goes nicely with the painting, though, don't you think?

I PROMISED A STORY.

A little over two weeks ago, Monday afternoon, July 22^nd, Sister Nele Moaga needed to exchange some Australian money for Samoan, so we headed to town, stopping in front of Western Union for her errand.  We waited in the car for her. She told us later that she heard someone yell, “Hey!, but not realizing they were directing it to her, she hurried into the building. Moments later, a man squatted down to speak to Leon through the car window. (Remember we drive a Hyundai Getz; ‘squat’ is an appropriate descriptive word if you wish to address the driver of a Getz.) Understand, we had a run-in with a cunning hustler maybe six or seven weeks ago, so we were naturally on guard. But this man was different.  Leon rolled down the window (yes, he ‘rolled’ the window down with a little handle on the door for that purpose – remember those?) (but, take note, the windows were up because, though it may be a humble little car, it has great a/c!).  Back to the story.

The man was clean and (how would we know this), good. He did not ask for money. He was not selling anything. He did not ask for a ride. He simply told us that he recognized that we were Mormons and quickly added that he is not a member of our church (some with hidden agendas claim to be members when they see our name tags), but that he is aware that it is a “big” church in Samoa (did you know that 25% of the population are members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints?) with many members. Because of that, he hoped we might be of help. He told us with obvious urgency that his 15 year old niece was in the hospital badly in need of type AB blood.  We asked him for her name and a contact number for him, which he gave.  He said she was in the maternity ward, though we are unsure now what he called it. The women’s hospital or something. We made an assumption that this might be a little girl in trouble with a pregnancy. No matter. She needed blood and this man, her uncle, cared enough to reach out to anyone he thought might help. We told him we would do what we could. By then Sister Moaga was back in the car, they spoke in Samoan and clarified that she was in the maternity ward. I wish I could adequately tell you what I felt from this man. He seemed familiar somehow.

We talked about it on the way home, thinking that we could send word out to the senior missionaries, and maybe the office couple could help us discover if any of the young missionaries had type AB blood. 

This was Leon’s day to wash our little car, so while he was busy with that, I headed over to the mission office. I told my tale to Sister Gertsch, who emphasized how careful we need to be when approached by strangers. I assured her this man was not asking us for more than our help in finding a blood donor for his niece. She was hesitant to send out an unauthorized email request w/o verifying with someone above her.  President Leota was not in, so I couldn’t refer to him, but he was expected shortly.  She took the info I had jotted down and said she would email it to someone in the service center (I can never remember his name). She reminded me of the unsanitary conditions of the hospital, the danger of asking our missionaries to give blood, which would require needles, which may be reused, who know what terrible things might happen, etc. I hadn’t thought of bringing danger to anyone. I couldn’t imagine the hospital would reuse needles, but I do have memories of childbirth at the Mootoatua Hospital, of cockroaches and showers that caused me to wear flip-flops while showering and hold the soap in my mouth by the lid of its box. So I wasn’t entirely untouched by her fears.

As I walked back from the mission home to talk with Leon, who was making good progress on the car, it occurred to me that the very least we could do was to offer to give this girl a priesthood blessing. I suggested that to Leon and he agreed. So back I went to see if I could solicit the help of the two assistants to the president, who are often close by.  As I entered the office, Sister Gertsch informed me that the unnamed authority in the service center answered her email that he ‘didn’t know this man’. Hello.  Luckily, President Leota walked in just then, happened to have a minute, so he ushered me into his office and I explained the need.  He was supportive and surprised at the concerns that had been raised, but said he definitely would ask his assistants, Elder Amituana’I  [say Ah-me-too-ah-nah-ee] and Elder Kepu,  [say Kay-poo]  if they would accompany us to the hospital and administer to Eneleata Epati  [say Eh-nay-lay-ah-tah  Eh-paw-tee], 15 years old and in need of a blessing. He suggested that I inquire about the procedures the hospital follows in taking blood.  

He picked up his cell phone and called his assistant. As he was asking Elder Amituana’I what his schedule looked like in the next little while, the elder walked into the office with his phone on his ear. Haha.  Yes, they would be free in 45 minutes and would go with us. I finally felt peace. Leon finished his task, cleaned up, and with the elders in the back seat of our sparkling clean Getz, we were off to the hospital.

I must take a moment here to explain ‘the hospital’. The Mootoatua Hospital, as it was called when April and Leslie were born there, was an old WWII one story building, looking its age. We have driven to the site of the old hospital more than once trying to figure out if it is still part of the medical complex that now sprawls over half a city block and which includes a spanking new two story red and white hospital built by the Chinese government. More about that later.  We walked instead back through an older building and inquired of a laborer nearby where the women’s section was.  Following his directions and with a few corrections in our course, we found it. The nurse at her station directed us to the maternity ward, a large open room with six beds, the curtains drawn back where all could visit. There were a few family members or friends there, each with their patient.

There on her bed lay beautiful Eneleata Epati, her dark hair pulled back, her dark eyes accepting and patient. Her mother stood by her bed. I introduced us to her and explained that Eneleata’s uncle Aleni, had asked us to help locate her blood type and that we had brought these two young elders of our church to give her a blessing if that would please her. Her mother introduced herself as Fay. She was pleasant, smiling and grateful that we would come. She said she didn’t know that we would minister to those not of our faith. Of course I’m paraphrasing. Once the introductions were over the elders conversed with them in Samoan.  We observed that Eneleata was receiving type A blood through a drip.

 

And so the blessing was given. Leon was privileged to lay hands on her head with the elders as they administered to her.  We learned that this precious girl has been bleeding more heavily than is normal for the past year to the extent that she was in need of a transfusion.  We asked if it would be alright for us to check on her later to see how she is doing. Her mother said yes, we could.  The elders left with knowledge of the village where the family lives, the church they currently attend, and an invitation to visit in their home. On the way back to the mission home, they told us that they felt the spirit very strongly in giving the blessing. These two elders are so dedicated, so fun and happy in the work. They obviously enjoy working together.

The next morning, waiting outside the temple at 4:30 a.m. for the doors to open, we filled Sister Moaga in on what had transpired the night before. She then told Brother and Sister Sauni (in Samoan) all that had happened. And guess what. Brother Sauni has type AB blood. And that’s not all. Sister Moaga’s niece is serving a mission here and is working in the very village where the Epati family lives. I have said before that we are living in a land of miracles.

Leon tried several times in the next couple of days to reach Aleni by phone, but without success. He finally called the hospital and learned that Eneleata had been released and gone home.  When he reached her uncle Aleni, he told Leon she was doing well and was back in school.  He thanked us for blessing his niece. He was very grateful that she is doing so well.

We were so blessed to have been part of this. The truth is we all live in a miraculous world. And if we are willing, we can all participate in miracles. The good news is that it doesn't require a name tag. I hope when the tags come off, the miracles will continue. 

 This is the new hospital. The sign tells that the grand opening was July 2nd this year. It was built by the Chinese government, who brought their own workers and materials, built it, cleaned up after themselves and went home. A couple of issues remained. First, the windows do not open, and although there was air conditioning installed, there wasn't enough power on the island to power it. They ponied up with a generator, so that was solved. Then when they were ready to admit patients, it was discovered that the electrical plugs were like those at home for 110V, while the plugs here are altogether different and are for 230V.  Stop everything. Remove the furniture and move the equipment. I haven't heard if they are in business yet or still working on it.  But it is a beautiful building, don't you think?

Random

We killed our first centipede Thursday. It was in our apartment.

We had an awesome missionary experience last week. The subject for another post.

Satan can enter the temple. Know how he can? In your heart.

My cocoa Samoa keeps improving. It’s really good. Better than a week ago.

I bought a pair of black sandals about 2 months ago. They cost $85 Tala. Leon thought I said FIVE tala. He was so happy for me. Until he got to the cash register. I was so happy that he was happy that I thought for a moment it really was a good deal. Luckily I like them and wear them a lot. It’s our joke now.

Giving Leon a good haircut can turn a dark day into a bright one.

There is at least one store in town that understands good customer service. We’ve yet to find another.

My last grocery list included green bell peppers, also red and yellow ones. I saw them at Lucky’s.  I asked the produce girl behind the glass display case how much. $29 tala/pound.  I roasted veggies for dinner but there were no peppers in the mix.

We learned a trick from the Fife’s. When we juice lemons, we pour the lemon juice into our ice cube tray and freeze it. Then we keep a container of lemon ice cubes in the freezer, pop some in a glass, add sugar and water and we have lemonade quick as a wink.

It’s Sunday. As always we have been lifted and filled and renewed. Lessons learned in “days of peace” prepare us for strength in “days of trouble”, if we are willing. Lesson #27.

Leon requested a home teaching route. Today was our first home visits. We visited three families. Oh, how good it felt to visit in the homes of members.

Working in the laundry at the temple last week, I found it impossible to untie a tiny, tight knot in a drawstring bag holding some laundry. I left the task to take some items to the clothing closet where white clothing is stored. When I returned to the task, the knot was loosened enough to allow me to work it out.  A tender mercy.

It was announced in church today that “two sisters from America” will be the speakers at the YSA fireside Wednesday night. We learned after church from Sister Goodlet that one of the sisters is Sherry Dew.

Yesterday, learning from past experience, I accepted a new assignment at the temple that I have dreaded because of my lack of Samoan language. As it turned out, the need never arose for me to fulfill it. The key is that I accepted in spite of my terror. There is hope.

Way last March, Jesse posted on his Facebook page a snapshot he took of three fortune cookie fortunes with the caption, “Some great mission advice for my parents in fortune cookie form.” The three little strips of paper contained the following wisdom:  What you will discover will be yourself; The harder you work, the luckier you get; Today, taking a supportive role might benefit the group dynamic.  Amazingly accurate.

The picture below is typical of the fresh flower arrangements we enjoy at church each week, made by our Relief Society sisters. This is the blossom of the ginger plant. Oops.  Sorry it’s so blurry.

Yep. It's a centipede.

Driving from the west end of Upolu toward Apia at sunset.

 Leslie and her Daddy.

 Our day in the temple with Merrell's

And you wonder where old raod work signs go to die.

The day we left for Samoa, our neighbor let me video her cutting Leon's hair. I watch it before cutting. If it's a good cut, Marsha gets the credit.  If not, I don't take pictures. 

 

My Favorite Things

Dear Family and Friends,

Our week with our kids was heaven sent.  The break in routine, the opportunity to see more than we have ever seen of Samoa, and to share it with Leslie and James, Ben and Brianna was such a gift.  We were blessed to be given time off from the temple, which we hadn’t asked for. We relished every moment we were together. 

Seeing our missionary friends at church on Sunday and then again last night at FHE, I had to ask myself if I am normal. The sisters were so solicitous, expecting that I would be devastated that our family had gone home.  I assured them that I am okay.  Tiffany has a plaque hanging in her guest room that reads, “Don’t be sad that it’s over. Be happy that it happened.”  That is exactly how I feel.  Part of the lessening of separation anxiety for me is that we talk on the phone often. [May we recommend Magic Jack for your landline phones? We pay about $20 a year after the initial $80 for equipment. ] We email, send pictures back and forth, and feel quite connected to our loved ones. 

We’ve posted LOTS of pictures on Facebook, but I know not everyone who reads the blog is on Facebook, so I will include some here.  Rather than a play-by-play of our week, I will share some of my favorite moments.

• ·         The arrival at Faleolo Airport.  It must be like this in heaven when we meet our family there. No words can describe the joy of seeing those angel faces. Granted, they were tired faces, but nonetheless angelic.
• ·         The email I received from eleven year old Ben before they even left home:  Hi grandma I can't wait to visit I just got new clothes that are for Samoa I can't wait to see you!  XOXO                 love Ben  
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• ·         Ben buying a lava lava and wearing it proudly.
• ·         Brianna hearing sounds from outside, opening the door and saying, “This is a good day to chase chickens!”, and out she went. (Did you know chickens can fly? Over a building? So… what’s with Chicken Run??? I’m so naive.)
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• ·         75%  of the Merrell’s trying the traditional Samoan food, and liking it! James and I are still alone on the Cocoa Samoa. 
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• ·         Leslie and James cooking a Samoan dinner for us, introducing us to an innovative way to use taro and palusami. Note: I dreamed of the day I would be able to eat taro and palusami again. It’s that good. And you can only find it here, at least cooked fa’asamoan style.
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• ·         Seeing them love the places we love and experiencing new places together.
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• ·         Sharing our ward with them. Those wonderful Aaronic Priesthood boys in their white shirts, ties and dress lava lava’s. And flip-flops. The reverence. The joy and total participation in singing the hymns. The inspiring talks and lessons.  The friendly smiles. I know your ward is just the same. But your bishop doesn’t say, “Let’s bring this meeting to a beginning.” And when sustaining those who have new callings, he doesn’t say, “As I call your name, please be upstanding.” Please understand, I am not mocking. I delight in the new ways to say the same things. And it’s not a bad thing to challenge people to be upstanding in their new responsibilities.
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• ·         The crystal clear ocean water with children who find sea life and are amazed and enthralled with all living creatures: tiny crabs that walk sideways up your fingers, a very patient star fish, and a sea cucumber. Really. It looks like the ones in my pickle jar.
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• ·         James choosing for his souvenir a huge conch shell.
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• ·         Ben surprising us all by blowing into it and producing the intended, but illusive to the beginner haunting sound similar to a ship’s horn, that called villagers to prayer for centuries.
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• ·         Watching James, Ben and Brianna fearlessly cliff jumping into waterfall pools straight out of the Garden of Eden, and sliding down natural rock waterslides that their uncles slid down when they were young. Even their Grandfather slid down them. And maybe me. I may have blocked it out. Or maybe it didn’t happen. Anyway, I’m sadly happy that Leslie takes after me and that Grandfather has gained some wisdom through the years so I had company in the spectator section.
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• ·         Laughing at the rain and not letting it spoil our fun.
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• ·         James driving the rental car with the steering wheel on the wrong side, using the windshield wipers to signal his turns, and laughing when Leon calmly said, “You might want to get over to the other side of the road. Soon.” Seriously, he did great.
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• Sharing our beautiful temple with them.

• ·         Never seeing the jet lag drag them down. Oh, they must be sleeping late now. Or wanting to.

 
I wish we could share this experience with all of our children and grandchildren. That is highly unlikely. I’m happy that if only one of our kids makes it here while we are here that it was Leslie who was born here.  April, you would make up the other half of the miracle if you found yourself here someday as well to see your birthplace.
 
I don’t know why we are here. Oh, I know we requested and hoped and it happened. But why? Why were the stars aligned to bring about the opportunity in the early ‘70’s? Being here again, I have to ask why? It is clear that people come and go and little changes. But the people who come and go, do they change? I truly hope so. I hope we can learn all there is to learn here.
 
I promised pictures. Here are a few favorites.