tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-76605543783400181262024-02-19T06:45:24.746-08:00John & Karen KroghSamoan Mission AdventuresJohn & Karen Kroghhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08097598934218597824noreply@blogger.comBlogger19125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7660554378340018126.post-71943701659085243842011-11-16T08:17:00.000-08:002011-11-16T08:59:15.468-08:00<div align="left">Blog #19 – September 22, 2011<br /><br />Time is winding down quickly for us now. We have just 2-1/2 months to go, and I’m still trying to get this blog up to date. Five of our kids and two spouses, Macae and Kelly, Kimmy, Frank, Janelle, Kelly and Kevin, are coming to visit us next week, on September 30th and will spend a week trying to see two to three weeks worth of Samoa. We had the same problem when our son Benj and his wife came several months ago and I think we really wore them out. Gratefully, all of our children will have been able to come down, even though some of the spouses couldn’t make it. We are so excited to see them and are cramming hard to get many things done ahead on our mission duties so we can spend time showing them around. I was hoping to get this blog segment out in the next two days so maybe Kelly will have time to send it off before she takes off herself. I realized that I probably don’t have time to finish it, and Kelly, who’s trying to get her four kids arranged for while they’re gone for 10 day, probably has less time than I do. Since it won’t happen before the trip, it will just have to happen after. I’ve certainly been this far behind before.<br /><br />Since we wrote last time we’ve put miles and miles, or kilometers and kilometers, on our little car taking trips up and down the coast several times a week visiting families, collecting and distributing missionary mail and packages and transporting missionaries back and forth to the hospital or the wharf, etc., when the vans from two different zones were in the repair shop for over a week at the same time, and of course, teaching piano classes. On one of our trips north, we decided to stop at the black sand beach to pick up a couple of pretty round rocks to use as stepping stones by our porch, only to discover that the black sand had just disappeared since we had been there a few months ago.<br /></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675631598848043890" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNXfMrg4bxM0103XLwJY_Rt6ELwSfRypQuUKPU-sWWScZaj8rFigE2XMhJI4SdfoRffw5PjMr30dSgp4nVu5vkI2iSpkqJ64yY4n_UqR1_VAyW4wO8Zi8s1Jc4HoyiigGr52Ru1qa1IQ/s400/045.jpg" /> This is the picture we took there a year ago with John playing in the sand and surf with a little girl visiting from Provo. Notice the beautiful smooth sandy beach.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgljZMoWgjRrPsN6XOoIkWhK7dcjuLSzAFFqbv7P9RhhQHbAnJ3Lwj3oY1InUsLosok7KLA3ONR5COf_yadC0nCp3JZvgz1kwqhCoH7OCwKnyUzJlFr24LcEfXRpcHuSi3uUpCHR1Xkhg/s1600/616.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675631592110591186" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgljZMoWgjRrPsN6XOoIkWhK7dcjuLSzAFFqbv7P9RhhQHbAnJ3Lwj3oY1InUsLosok7KLA3ONR5COf_yadC0nCp3JZvgz1kwqhCoH7OCwKnyUzJlFr24LcEfXRpcHuSi3uUpCHR1Xkhg/s400/616.jpg" /></a>This is the very same beach a year later and all of the sand has been washed away. We were just shocked when we saw it. I’m sure there must have been a huge storm with monstrous waves that took out the sand and a few more palm trees that had survived the tsunami two years ago.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTglBMqFBqk6aWR6W7Hs8lZ8Waz5ebOFipZU2ix9Msz8pOxLlQJOZxIdeT5Br_er0CYB4_dbGp1v5RvnTLXY-K4AfcGyQ-1zYANRul9hKCn49hd_LJgsxeep1gsoveoF238hWXZrdG9A/s1600/604.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675636119606258066" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTglBMqFBqk6aWR6W7Hs8lZ8Waz5ebOFipZU2ix9Msz8pOxLlQJOZxIdeT5Br_er0CYB4_dbGp1v5RvnTLXY-K4AfcGyQ-1zYANRul9hKCn49hd_LJgsxeep1gsoveoF238hWXZrdG9A/s400/604.jpg" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL5WIwivBGtDGi-u8jYwtOBunODk1KJ9SHQkePQL5q5tbLF1DkkjFQ1zYUyFl_jRrkgf8P36M0ftdADHnFlST0ixQFPy1tDOz-GX0dva1cZIpueQX3UvAtNbpPC4WhQGrHPYd7I7kwJg/s1600/608.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675631376908417746" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL5WIwivBGtDGi-u8jYwtOBunODk1KJ9SHQkePQL5q5tbLF1DkkjFQ1zYUyFl_jRrkgf8P36M0ftdADHnFlST0ixQFPy1tDOz-GX0dva1cZIpueQX3UvAtNbpPC4WhQGrHPYd7I7kwJg/s400/608.jpg" /></a> The day we took the picture of the rocky beach, the wind was blowing hard and the tide was all the way in and what a difference from the time Dad and Benj fished off that very same, dry point several months ago.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7jbBSsJCI48um62vhwEKP2U0i2q-4aeeLgxo6j8FfgNDocEDrfsJmln6L_NVEn9XiIKNIseesxGh_xH0RcjxphjkAPF9MhECylmwH2_QGihBiLmvoTfBfna3jaWyXHpxhrpl-oDqyyg/s1600/387.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675631366254673346" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7jbBSsJCI48um62vhwEKP2U0i2q-4aeeLgxo6j8FfgNDocEDrfsJmln6L_NVEn9XiIKNIseesxGh_xH0RcjxphjkAPF9MhECylmwH2_QGihBiLmvoTfBfna3jaWyXHpxhrpl-oDqyyg/s400/387.jpg" /></a> On that day back then it was very calm and the tide was way down. We were astounded at the change with the sand gone, trees down and huge waves. Nobody knows if the sand will get washed back any time soon, or ever. We continue to have enormous respect for the power of that ocean, and are so disappointed that there’s no black sand beach to show off for now when our visitors come.<br /><br />The senior missionary population on Samoa has made a radical change over the last few months. Many of our dear friends had completed their missions and headed back home and have been replaced with more new couples that we’re getting to know. Two of those new couples have had to turn around after only a couple of months and head back home because of serious health issues that just couldn’t be dealt with here. We lost the new mission nurse and husband, the Curries, as well as the new institute director and his wife, the McDonalds. We understand they are both doing a little better now, even though neither one is completely out of the woods yet. I guess, when you have missionaries our age, health problems are not too surprising, even though I’m sure it was very disappointing for them to have to leave, as it was for all of us. Those two couples had to up and leave in such a hurry because of their emergencies that we didn’t even have time to get over and say goodbye, and there was certainly no time for a farewell party, like they usually throw for the outgoing seniors.<br /><br />Over a period of a month, we had big farewell celebrations for the Kellys, the Eves and our outgoing mission President, President Halleck and his wife. We were able to get over to Pesega for those parties, even though it meant an extra couple of trips across on the ferry.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiujeNCVrX6Uh55mZhq_xaI93ozwK9TC3WtsIZ7PUQ_bZaspavWmRWWzPxREEHzVvqivtR40jx9tyvLCfu34m7Fzf263MLM_jcG3GlXbshvmveH8M4ZglWOFZXFFUNue-O69UqX20LRfA/s1600/618.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675631365606419234" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiujeNCVrX6Uh55mZhq_xaI93ozwK9TC3WtsIZ7PUQ_bZaspavWmRWWzPxREEHzVvqivtR40jx9tyvLCfu34m7Fzf263MLM_jcG3GlXbshvmveH8M4ZglWOFZXFFUNue-O69UqX20LRfA/s400/618.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBvhUEM840D1O0ZAhFQO-JqCbQ9203iah2FsZjoRRo3V6F8D1OApYenh_UuoF_3hmtKe4U-ncFxGT5EauZLFP6Xg6BeZnCEuvPKysCT3PxmNWHavF2dVHwjxxeOGiHKvw92imObfCpEg/s1600/620.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675631358556873090" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBvhUEM840D1O0ZAhFQO-JqCbQ9203iah2FsZjoRRo3V6F8D1OApYenh_UuoF_3hmtKe4U-ncFxGT5EauZLFP6Xg6BeZnCEuvPKysCT3PxmNWHavF2dVHwjxxeOGiHKvw92imObfCpEg/s400/620.jpg" /></a> The Kellys were in the MTC with us and it was really hard to see them go. Sister Kelly was the mission nurse, and Elder Kelly was her right hand man and ran the medical office.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe9xtq9QQnkQ3l7FwhdLNftZEM1cEUr2DY2kVBnHjsAJ8RQUJ1uPqwMFMKpOwnA5H2lcZ_onJ4LXHzFf3a8Jf3pJ6eVOCsQMvJhkRJMONj3atVcWSld97uUgIn0sQDQx1Qm318U42RDA/s1600/572.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675631354469783170" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe9xtq9QQnkQ3l7FwhdLNftZEM1cEUr2DY2kVBnHjsAJ8RQUJ1uPqwMFMKpOwnA5H2lcZ_onJ4LXHzFf3a8Jf3pJ6eVOCsQMvJhkRJMONj3atVcWSld97uUgIn0sQDQx1Qm318U42RDA/s400/572.jpg" /></a> This picture of us with the Kellys was taken at some other celebration, but I can’t figure out what it was. I thought we looked so pretty in our flowers, but I can’t even remember why we were wearing them. That doesn’t matter; it’s a good picture of the four of us. They’re going back to eastern Canada, so I’m not sure we’ll have much chance to see them again. We’ve actually discussed getting together at a Palmyra Pageant sometime, which we’ve never seen, so that will be a good excuse to get back to their neck of the woods.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMVIKSDGoZO1qOwrsSbAAsMEn6J_m6w1UacbSdnK8BY0_6FW6N-NzqYNDvvIQ-VAE-4I4bt4CbGZWHabg_UMKr2zmLrc2zkFBVWdWrK-RGflHbyQm8GHnmEt-2OPP34jns0-tmYnZ7ng/s1600/623.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675631032515360898" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMVIKSDGoZO1qOwrsSbAAsMEn6J_m6w1UacbSdnK8BY0_6FW6N-NzqYNDvvIQ-VAE-4I4bt4CbGZWHabg_UMKr2zmLrc2zkFBVWdWrK-RGflHbyQm8GHnmEt-2OPP34jns0-tmYnZ7ng/s400/623.jpg" /></a> The Eves are from St. George, and were in charge of keeping up with all the missionary fales (houses) and ta’avales (autos) and were continuously travelling all around all three big islands to keep up with the cars and lodging of all the missionaries. I think they probably travelled more than we did. They live in Laverkin, down by St. George, near two of the couples who are here now, the Gouldings and Merrills, and hopefully a trek down that way won’t be too far afield after we all get home.<br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVvPcbCWaqdxoc9ZF0d79EvtJLL3k36Ys0n1Bd63JuTlLOQ73VA1JJRKFFg4ME8zmqnjiejxPYNbgZWOEDqh8Oc2aRXxtyKNJJlt33apoBO2sYNP0uKQ8PYGt7ypul2KaW3UXy3nznkQ/s1600/630.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675631028736048290" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVvPcbCWaqdxoc9ZF0d79EvtJLL3k36Ys0n1Bd63JuTlLOQ73VA1JJRKFFg4ME8zmqnjiejxPYNbgZWOEDqh8Oc2aRXxtyKNJJlt33apoBO2sYNP0uKQ8PYGt7ypul2KaW3UXy3nznkQ/s400/630.jpg" /></a> This picture was taken at the celebration for the Eves and Kellys, where those two couples are lined up with another good friend of ours, Wayne Shute, who was in the mission field with John years ago, and has also been mission president and Temple president. Wayne compiled the book that has John’s plane crash story in it and it was so good to see him again. He was just in Samoa for visit. His wife passed away a few months ago, and he was travelling with another ex-Samoan missionary, pictured with them and who we did not know.<br /><br />The last farewell celebration held that month was for President and Sister Halleck, the now-ex Mission President and his wife. President Halleck is a native Samoan, even though he claims his name from a German Grandfather I think. He served a mission in Samoa under President Wayne Shute and went on to BYU/Provo, where he met and married his wife, Peggy, from Orem. They’ve lived most of their married life between Samoa and Hawaii. President Halleck was just recently called to the Quorum of the Seventy and they are now living in the Salt Lake area.<br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ2iHE9JxeMoN-B4FzYyi4bUnO9_p5CwYA5CAtxYotbtUBhoysXDJQzSIFTm4g1PPTSN9J6uoOggX5yA3oRcFJEINQtL_kkwPSHQcTU6cOjvBU5JpHsYC5TA2nlSFkSwrHkwITI-TlSg/s1600/644.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675631012484760338" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ2iHE9JxeMoN-B4FzYyi4bUnO9_p5CwYA5CAtxYotbtUBhoysXDJQzSIFTm4g1PPTSN9J6uoOggX5yA3oRcFJEINQtL_kkwPSHQcTU6cOjvBU5JpHsYC5TA2nlSFkSwrHkwITI-TlSg/s400/644.jpg" /></a> Elders serenading Hallecks</div><br /><div align="center"><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYvgNLSJDiu27jjY1s-yR6zzj1xKdODx8bjPxRkVLu3ACaA5PWK7QUtulYEvZsNcNlU16FXusJKwjbWfN9fuNYrvxlXPS0TMoGrxQRZRZntcn181kWD_KLIM766-t3p_c9mHhbp4cQww/s1600/650.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675631006181898930" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYvgNLSJDiu27jjY1s-yR6zzj1xKdODx8bjPxRkVLu3ACaA5PWK7QUtulYEvZsNcNlU16FXusJKwjbWfN9fuNYrvxlXPS0TMoGrxQRZRZntcn181kWD_KLIM766-t3p_c9mHhbp4cQww/s400/650.jpg" /></a> President Halleck farewell speech</div><br /><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNm2bd5oNGlSqyskMxELP-wbbVQyBwabaK2vWtt4tItOaspbX_j-jtNMyHqgcEtYvS1NxcdiU6bR1Q5APB5ZjMDP1KhDp-EakTPCyZzWjyuRYhuwpPoYy0QRm5LHjvUu5abb0Y6nLd4g/s1600/613.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675631598734736194" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNm2bd5oNGlSqyskMxELP-wbbVQyBwabaK2vWtt4tItOaspbX_j-jtNMyHqgcEtYvS1NxcdiU6bR1Q5APB5ZjMDP1KhDp-EakTPCyZzWjyuRYhuwpPoYy0QRm5LHjvUu5abb0Y6nLd4g/s400/613.jpg" /></a>Sister Halleck farewell speech<br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfveK_d_YFU0t_U10_FXEndvcCsMK4MU0H-UZr6nEhRusYf7vuMH_fCqywjXclv5AJLkCCYgwAGB4mPsEIeWpeYa3qd1DXPWUHx6fILwTINH_DTxuJh3Keeo79F4xwVXnepFGhHPDoMA/s1600/653.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675631006963429314" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfveK_d_YFU0t_U10_FXEndvcCsMK4MU0H-UZr6nEhRusYf7vuMH_fCqywjXclv5AJLkCCYgwAGB4mPsEIeWpeYa3qd1DXPWUHx6fILwTINH_DTxuJh3Keeo79F4xwVXnepFGhHPDoMA/s400/653.jpg" /></a> Farewell gift</div><br /><br /><div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyLtLO5O1V3oGqUxmwRa3cMcwjP8Qh8I-mOOrnYFq4XrPW8isdlSu16w-1-PDyDZp7DFMk9Aul1hzVXO5NYxvwIxB_RrWbB722wCH9DUMAMYlANuUFAie865fz7gVlTqeSi3hUiOkQ4g/s1600/655.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675630230758857890" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyLtLO5O1V3oGqUxmwRa3cMcwjP8Qh8I-mOOrnYFq4XrPW8isdlSu16w-1-PDyDZp7DFMk9Aul1hzVXO5NYxvwIxB_RrWbB722wCH9DUMAMYlANuUFAie865fz7gVlTqeSi3hUiOkQ4g/s400/655.jpg" /></a>Sr. Samoan sisters performing<br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX08ZdMOXc5pLWptBqBguLGVayXdSHiXMkUTDdsIHnFIfbxPW784_7lcngEWhHJlLAeDFB2e8yNitLxzQ9I-WBdHYnwLTVzPoro91fyoreRGbKn0r3a8hzpQIKtuMa7-7djNbwYfQPrQ/s1600/671.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675630221907870482" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX08ZdMOXc5pLWptBqBguLGVayXdSHiXMkUTDdsIHnFIfbxPW784_7lcngEWhHJlLAeDFB2e8yNitLxzQ9I-WBdHYnwLTVzPoro91fyoreRGbKn0r3a8hzpQIKtuMa7-7djNbwYfQPrQ/s400/671.jpg" /></a><br />OCTOBER 28, 2011<br /><br />Well, here I am again after a few weeks. Sorry for the big delay. It’s been over a month since I started this blog segment and probably almost that long since I last wrote. We have just over 5 weeks left before we go home and still could use a couple of months to finish up some projects we’re working on. We won’t have those two months though, so we are cramming really hard to move ahead on everything, as we’ve been doing since after the kids left on October 8th.<br /><br />Their visit to Samoa was just a wonderful time for us. We worked so hard to get ahead on some of our activities before they came and then filled that week they were here to the very brim. I’m not going to spend a lot a time on the details, because there is just so much to tell and also my camera ended up in the Wanberg camera bag when they left, and I have no pictures to add. The kids took plenty of pictures while they were here, and I’ll try to figure out how to get some of them off the files they shared on line and I’ll add them later.<br /><br />We had everything all scheduled before they came and had reservations for three different hotels around this island. We had made arrangements to swap our little car for a large 15-passenger van over at the mission car pool. When we went to pick it up that morning before we went to the airport, someone had forgotten to reserve a van for us, even though our name had been on their calendar for almost a month. I was totally panicked, since our little car will hold 5 adults and maybe a little luggage. We needed space for 9 adults and all our luggage for a week. The car pool sent us back over to the mission office to see if they could come up with something for us. After the Mission President, the office manager and the Senior missionary who’s in charge of missionary autos put their heads together, they came up with a van for us. It was a lot smaller than what we had planned, but compared to our little car, it seemed like a bus to us. It was only a 12 passenger van and had absolutely no extra room for much luggage. When the mission office manager was helping us load all the mail and boxes for the missionaries over on Savaii, like we do on every trip we make over and back, it became evident that there was no way we could take all of that, plus 9 people and their luggage, so he insisted we unload all those boxes. We at least kept the small box of letters to deliver to the elders, and Elder Merrill said he’d make sure the other boxes got over some other way. It was still a tight fit once we picked up the kids at the airport, but we made it work at least until we got back over to Savaii and left some of the luggage at our house while we toured around that island.<br /><br />When we went to the airport to pick up the kids, their plane was about 2 hours late, which became a potential problem for us, because we had planned to have some quick lunch somewhere and then head straight back to the wharf so that we could catch the 4:00 p.m. ferry, which was the very last one of that day. If we hadn’t been able to make that ferry, it would have thrown a huge kink into our plans. We’d have had to find somewhere to stay on Upolu that night; and there was a family, in one of the wards over on Savaii that we worked in, who had planned a large feast for us that evening, and they had probably been cooking all day to be ready. Gratefully, the kids were able to get through customs fairly quickly and we were able to get back to the ferry with a little time to spare. They’d had no lunch on the plane and we’d not had time to stop, so we grabbed a few munchies at the snack shack by the Wharf to carry us over the water to Savaii. That ferry ride on an empty stomach isn’t all that comfortable. We gave them all some motion sickness pills and I think everyone was okay.<br /><br />While we were on the ferry, John got a phone call from Elder Merrill, the mission office manager, and he had arranged for a zone of elders over here on Savaii to trade vans with us for the few days we were going to be here. They had a big 15-passenger van and were kind enough to do with a smaller van for a few days so that we could use the big one. Elder Merrill was really our guardian angel that week.<br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix7I1IpjyoCxPGeavkQYZ1Lbj8oM_fG2eSdghU3h2SbdZqBNjxpooqGhq1hNDDWcp53ZE7xH0iIlKppGRiIKK3uDawPsUA-0ppE3pN2VcV_DbPccCks54YRnH7oGqXhd6ueXuj0JLVwQ/s1600/4D.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675630216571718818" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix7I1IpjyoCxPGeavkQYZ1Lbj8oM_fG2eSdghU3h2SbdZqBNjxpooqGhq1hNDDWcp53ZE7xH0iIlKppGRiIKK3uDawPsUA-0ppE3pN2VcV_DbPccCks54YRnH7oGqXhd6ueXuj0JLVwQ/s400/4D.jpg" /></a>We spent a lot of time in that van and went all around the island in it over about four days and we really appreciated having the use of it. We spent several days at beach resorts, so there was a lot of sand in the car when we traded back with the elders, but the floor was vinyl and there was a small broom in the van, so we were able to get it pretty well cleaned out by the time we turned it back over to them. We loaded everything from the big van back into the smaller van that last day on Savaii, headed back to our place to load up the other luggage and made it back to the Wharf in time to get on the 2:00 p.m. ferry for our trip back over to Upolu. Once we got back to the mission compound in Pesega, we were able to unload the luggage into the house and just take along those things that we needed for each day, so it wasn’t quite so crowded.<br /><br />Of course, we had more things than we had time to do on the schedule for those days, and in spite of getting lost a couple of times, where we ended up way off our intended path and had to forego some of the sites, we were able to see the most important ones. I hope the kids have a good memory of that whole trip, even though they were dog tired and we had a few little setbacks along the way. We loved being able to share this beautiful country and her delightful people with them. We’ve said so many times over the past two years that we wish our family were here to experience and enjoy it with us. It was a dream-come-true to have it finally happen.<br /><br />We were fortunate when we went on over to Pesega at the end of the week to have the use of a large 4 bedroom home on the Church compound for those three nights. It worked perfectly for us. We had two bathrooms, a large living room with TV, dining room, kitchen, laundry facilities and internet hook-up. There was even a nice piano in the house, but I’m not sure anyone even had time to sit down and play it.<br /><br />It was such a joy to have them here and show them all around the two big islands, to share our love for snorkeling (first time for some of them) plus having them meet several of our special new Samoan friends. It went by so fast it made our heads spin, and I’m afraid it left us a little ‘trunky’ after they left (‘trunky’: a condition that affects missionaries right before they go home, so they just sit on their trunks instead of working). We didn’t have too much time to sit on our trunks however, and plunged right back into our usual schedule of visiting families, teaching piano classes, delivering mail and packages to the local missionaries, taking care of their medical needs, giving emergency rides during auto breakdowns, reimbursing all their extra expenses, for which we were also reimbursed when we went back over to Apia, not to mention arranging for and paying for (also reimbursed) catering of a special Zone conference with the Mission President and Area Seventy and all island missionaries. While John went to the zone meetings that day, I had the privilege of escorting the Mission President’s two daughters, Rachel, age 21, and Pearl, Age 16, plus Elder Pearson’s 13-year-old daughter, Elizabeth, all around the island to see sights and spend some time at the beach for a picnic and snorkeling.<br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh27yHfaA5hJgTr6yq5EwxcadQ97xF8n4pGdjInl4t4p4tXhC0HQbsCJnGILgtUsZ_PU5OEhcBKdSYAgcVLlJVXfpW5IA6o6YyT7E8MQolMjAFX2csCsj7DJ0KhZPyd1UoamKwe56mgQQ/s1600/IMG_3392.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675630211151074658" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh27yHfaA5hJgTr6yq5EwxcadQ97xF8n4pGdjInl4t4p4tXhC0HQbsCJnGILgtUsZ_PU5OEhcBKdSYAgcVLlJVXfpW5IA6o6YyT7E8MQolMjAFX2csCsj7DJ0KhZPyd1UoamKwe56mgQQ/s400/IMG_3392.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy7IovzHjhjdbenOnsLuBFyYHr6-1rAJ1Khmq1SaLT-rN4lC0HBKAsLusujz3aa7Az5e3GJS8OMR1howLyePyjhc49dtxPBOewgnd0DcTeQiTiM2_pHV83T_cmNqd-sLN6UfS3-2sc7g/s1600/IMG_3401.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675630208540572514" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy7IovzHjhjdbenOnsLuBFyYHr6-1rAJ1Khmq1SaLT-rN4lC0HBKAsLusujz3aa7Az5e3GJS8OMR1howLyePyjhc49dtxPBOewgnd0DcTeQiTiM2_pHV83T_cmNqd-sLN6UfS3-2sc7g/s400/IMG_3401.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcU0MULjfEayKAX6rREFag-Jp-29i-ax4Ql-4b8-YQ6Rw1zOyRDKoYxKZH3n8PzGSKEsJfqAEPemLKOnJYphKHFPIi7rhbqGBaRWoNjcsUxddPrqe2sfh5r3GGHPKs3p3dJ86RQrFSLQ/s1600/IMG_3407.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675629870208653666" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcU0MULjfEayKAX6rREFag-Jp-29i-ax4Ql-4b8-YQ6Rw1zOyRDKoYxKZH3n8PzGSKEsJfqAEPemLKOnJYphKHFPIi7rhbqGBaRWoNjcsUxddPrqe2sfh5r3GGHPKs3p3dJ86RQrFSLQ/s400/IMG_3407.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh4nLHB_MX0YVTSrD7QY27ZWJsX_aGAUnW6UOeaUll9l_6Dh13s-u3kkiIssVox8hwsEBSGmLjC6uy4msi1phtoL9Pv-PPzAMgNfrC8GqWlYlr33wv5bpaibaM-sHcIzX5q9hZoZw-uw/s1600/IMG_3442.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675629863884223538" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh4nLHB_MX0YVTSrD7QY27ZWJsX_aGAUnW6UOeaUll9l_6Dh13s-u3kkiIssVox8hwsEBSGmLjC6uy4msi1phtoL9Pv-PPzAMgNfrC8GqWlYlr33wv5bpaibaM-sHcIzX5q9hZoZw-uw/s400/IMG_3442.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZLAV7jOnNlg62BZtm02IDW55a9WTMMx9wfrgPLlhAPRuWtsO3eVyF9SOJs_M3yvatyXnlLsk5Y-ceqDV5zklTvbKNQpq8lb6IOn_tnHoDEOQMgEYJePsel0SAhjuPtzORqnmll7Ds_A/s1600/IMG_3446.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675629859112752914" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZLAV7jOnNlg62BZtm02IDW55a9WTMMx9wfrgPLlhAPRuWtsO3eVyF9SOJs_M3yvatyXnlLsk5Y-ceqDV5zklTvbKNQpq8lb6IOn_tnHoDEOQMgEYJePsel0SAhjuPtzORqnmll7Ds_A/s400/IMG_3446.JPG" /></a>We actually had a wonderful time and I think I enjoyed the day more than the missionaries did, since Elder Pearson was apparently very bold in calling to their attention several areas where they needed to make improvements.<br /><br />All in all, I guess you could say that we are the Savaii Senior Missionary Banking Co., ambulance and hospital pharmacy, chauffeur, mailman, member support missionaries, piano teachers, grandma and grandpa, etc. Every day is a new adventure for us and we never know what to expect. That, coupled with what we do have planned and do expect, makes for some very long, interesting days. Since we are apparently not going to be replaced over here when we leave, because there’s quite a shortage of senior missionaries all over the world, it will be a puzzle as to what the mission will do without a mailman, banker, medical advisor, etc. on this island. They have made that comment to us several times, and jokingly asked if we’d be interested in a two-year extension. I think we are ready to come home, however, and will leave them with the opportunity to work it out; but we are at a loss as to how it will be done, unless some new senior missionary couple just pops up from somewhere. Miracles do happen in the mission field. There is one other senior couple here on Savaii, the Gouldings, but they are pretty much pinned down up at Vaiola teaching classes, and only have access to a car part time. We could never have done this job without a full-time auto, and we are on the road a big percent of the time.<br /><br />The piano classes and lessons are still going strong, and we teach at least one, and sometimes two, per day Monday through Thursday. Because we’re a little worried about two of our piano classes which are lagging behind, we’re planning to double up on their lessons and try to have two a week instead of one. Several of the students have gotten behind because of their big year-end government school exams and have had little time to practice. The other class, which is mostly non-English speakers, has been very slow from the start because of the language barrier. The two elders in that area, who could both play piano and speak Samoan and English, were transferred out a couple of weeks ago. They were a huge help to us, and we have really missed them. The two new elders don’t play any piano, but might be able to come and help us translate a little. We’re going to add another class for that ward on Saturday morning each week until we go. Unfortunately, that class is our longest drive during the week, and now we’ll be doing it twice. If we can just get these two classes to the point where they are reading music fairly well and playing a little on their own, we’ll feel more comfortable leaving them. School is out for all of them for their Summer Vacation next week and that will help a little in the time for extra classes and practicing. I’m just not so sure how we’re going to make the time for too many more classes. We’ll need a miracle too, I guess, for which we pray daily.<br /><br />In case you’re wondering if we are actually doing any real missionary work, we feel really good when we go back to some of the wards we’ve visited before and found some of those families who started going to church are still attending. Unfortunately, there are others who are not. We try to visit them again, but think it’s almost hopeless for some of them at this point. We are especially happy about some progress that has been made with a couple of families we’ve worked with for several months. I think we told you early in our mission about the twin brothers, Liai (Lehi) and Nifai (Nephi), who were both inactive and we had several visits and family home evenings with both families, but no luck with reactivation. Their bishop had finally suggested that since they’ve all been working with them for a long time with little success, we might use our time better in another area. Gratefully, the ward didn’t give up on them completely and Nifai and his family have become pretty well activated. He is now in the Elder’s quorum presidency and their family went to the Temple last month. We haven’t worked in that ward for quite a long time and were delighted to visit recently and learn about their progress. That made us want to try working with Liai a little more. His wife and kids have been going to church quite a bit, but not him, probably because of his smoking. We had a really wonderful family home evening with them this past week, where Dad courageously told them about his own Father’s reactivation when Dad was about 12, when Grandpa stopped smoking and drinking and began to set a better example for his family, and the results were a fully active and happy extended family, because of his change of heart. Liai seemed very touched by the story and recognized that it was certainly meant for him, and promised John that he would work hard to overcome those habits and set a better example for his 9 children and become more active. We were so excited when we left, and will keep close tabs on them for the next few weeks, not to mention alerting his ward leaders and members of the need for further fellowship.<br /><br />The other family we’ve been working with, mostly teaching 7 members of their family piano lessons twice a week, is made up of several adult non-members, as well as two inactive LDS members, Sineva and Kalila, who have 5 children. They all live in the same little compound around Grandma and Grandpa and have been very welcoming to us and appreciative of our efforts in teaching them piano. They invited our own family to come and visit during their stay in Samoa and performed a lovely little piano concert for them, as well as feeding all 9 of us. Last night during our piano class at their fale, Dad took Sineva aside and asked if he’d like to come to church with us on Sunday, along with his wife and any others who wanted to. He didn’t get an answer right away, but we noticed him talking to his wife about it. This morning we went back for a short visit and invited the non-member Grandma and Grandpa and a couple of other adults, and they all accepted, except for the grandpa. He’s had a stroke of sorts and has what appears to be Bell’s palsy on one side of his face and is embarrassed about meeting strangers; however, he has really warmed up to us since out first visit there many months ago. We’ll pick them all up Sunday at Noon and are praying for a good set of meetings and a welcome reception from ward members. We hope we’re not pushing too hard, too soon, but our time is running out and we’d at least like to see that ward members can begin to help with the friendshipping process before we leave. All of a sudden our time is moving along way too fast, and even though we’re anxious to be home with the family, we feel we’re leaving some unfinished business behind. I guess that’s what most missionaries feel when they go home. We’d be a lot less concerned if we knew we were being replaced like most missionaries are. Hopefully, we’ve done our part and will have planted some seeds that will sprout and grow without us. I just wish that it would be easier to communicate with them here in Samoa from the USA, since practically none of them have computers or do emailing, and just getting a letter to and from them in the mail, takes forever, if its possible at all. They have no addresses, other than their village name. If a letter does get to the one post office on the island, they somehow have to check there once in a while to see if there is any mail for them. There’s no delivery of any sort. Hopefully, we can keep in touch with the missionaries to see how these families are progressing.<br /><br />I realized that I’m making this sound like our last blog from Samoa. WE still have 5 weeks and expect plenty to happen in that time that we’d like to share with you all. It’s possible that if things get really cramped up toward the end, the actual last blog will have to be finished when we get home.<br /><br />This last paragraph was written when we had 5 weeks left. I’ve written another segment already that was supposed to be part of this blog, but when I discovered how many photos I had to add, I realized that I had better quit now and let that next section with all the photos from our family’s Samoan trip follow along a few days later.<br /><br />Here’s a little sneak preview of our family get-together in Samoa. More to follow.<br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIwEdfPNf7_u3t2WaqyfGCFzlrVxaE9dbG7IZU-JRifiKV3TVdWEQuZj4N2tInZPY-dgooNE9kvlkv4EstwqMUyO-yVGm7-g71fRKVs8nxTNaYkms9blpr4YrFp0bZSp_M_V14DOhTVg/s1600/2F.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675629855640730546" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIwEdfPNf7_u3t2WaqyfGCFzlrVxaE9dbG7IZU-JRifiKV3TVdWEQuZj4N2tInZPY-dgooNE9kvlkv4EstwqMUyO-yVGm7-g71fRKVs8nxTNaYkms9blpr4YrFp0bZSp_M_V14DOhTVg/s400/2F.jpg" /></a>Krogh family tourists<br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB4OGcvOx3wYdEk9wp8UAalYi9KwB_1V7bNpN9RTEvBVSkb4RBu7Zjdhyx7WpwabVkLCF4NVWW5a5m6n0d6RBoRta9R_rFSARgjngW3eyez6ORgyjQ1KPS7N1bbb3lOfxNLkzRI7LSTA/s1600/4B.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675629852742574370" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB4OGcvOx3wYdEk9wp8UAalYi9KwB_1V7bNpN9RTEvBVSkb4RBu7Zjdhyx7WpwabVkLCF4NVWW5a5m6n0d6RBoRta9R_rFSARgjngW3eyez6ORgyjQ1KPS7N1bbb3lOfxNLkzRI7LSTA/s400/4B.jpg" /></a>Snorkeling in Piula cave pool </div><br /><br /><div><br />We send our love to you and all your families and hope that you are all looking forward to the upcoming holidays.<br /><br />Much love,<br />John & Karen </div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>John & Karen Kroghhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08097598934218597824noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7660554378340018126.post-77374281499924591662011-08-21T17:10:00.000-07:002011-08-21T17:27:59.589-07:00Blog #18 – June 30, 2011
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<br />(yes, that is the right date, you'll see why later)
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<br />Here we are at the end of June already and looking ahead to only 5 more months on our mission. It’s hard to believe we’re that close. We still feel like we have so much to do in that much time, but guess we can just do our best. Each new ward we move into is so unpredictable in terms of how much time we will spend there. We’ve just started the first ward in the third stake and hope to finish that stake before we leave. Some wards say they don’t need our help at all, so we just move on, and others are excited to have us help them with their inactive families and we stay as long as we’re needed. We are starting to have to travel quite a way to this new stake and soon I think we’ll have to start staying up there a couple of nights a week instead of making the long drive back to Lalomalava every night. We thought of moving up there for the last few months, but we are so settled here and everything is so convenient for our busy lives, that we’ll just commute and work hard for the few days we’re up there and then come on back and get caught up with laundry, shopping, missionary mail, etc. and the three piano classes we still teach in this stake.
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<br />Our work with struggling families continues as usual. We feel privileged to have assisted in the reactivation of some wonderful families, but we’ve had our disappointments as well. Not everyone feels ready to make the changes that they need to make in order to return to activity and fellowship, and we are saddened by that, because we’ve made great friends with them. Hopefully, we’ve made some little contribution toward planting a seed that will sprout at some later time, when other missionaries or ward members touch their spirit.
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<br />Our piano classes continue in full swing and we are pleased with the results. We’ve finished one class completely and two more will wind up the middle of July. Not everyone who started the class has stayed around to finish it up. I think many thought they could take a few lessons for a month or two and be ready to play. What they found out was that they were required to work hard and practice every week and attend every class if possible, and they thought it was just going to be fun and games. We are so proud of those who’ve stuck it out, most of whom are playing in any of several church meetings and baptisms and doing a good job. It’s been such a pleasure to see the joy they feel in their accomplishments and their families’ as well.
<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb9LE_vlElqAfYZSN08nnoWVvL9CWmK3YOR5Ywgz_ib_hXEr50kUGr9zgLFWbhWPTwjwMSKVRxU3YmHgllK64D1FJhWLIrI9PCxAoWAIGyjtkas8s9mU0wWL9J9AuiGI6IpAUE7sMbLA/s1600/281.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643467520619312546" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb9LE_vlElqAfYZSN08nnoWVvL9CWmK3YOR5Ywgz_ib_hXEr50kUGr9zgLFWbhWPTwjwMSKVRxU3YmHgllK64D1FJhWLIrI9PCxAoWAIGyjtkas8s9mU0wWL9J9AuiGI6IpAUE7sMbLA/s400/281.jpg" /></a> This picture was taken at the final class, and party, with the McKay Ward kids who finished up the whole class. Lin is on the left, then Mao, then Lin’s sister Sisi, and then Star. You may remember me telling you about Star in an earlier blog. He was the young man with quite a bit of talent, who just wanted to fool around on the piano in class and didn’t seem to be paying attention when I tried to get everyone quieted down. One of our friends from Wallsburg Ward, Helen Hall, suggested after reading our blog, that maybe he was hard of hearing. I’m still not sure about that but I did find out that his mother has a pretty severe hearing loss and it’s possible that Star has inherited it. You’d think with my inherited hearing loss, I’d me more sensitive to that. Star just quit coming for awhile and when he did come back for a class, I commented to him that with his natural talent on the piano, if he would work hard and learn to read music along with playing by ear, there would be nothing he couldn’t do on the piano. He actually listened, or heard, this time and started coming to all the classes and worked really hard to catch up on his sight reading. Often he was at the church practicing before any of the rest of us got there for the class. Pretty soon, I found out he was playing in priesthood meeting and I’ve since heard him play in church several times. He obviously loves it and is doing so well. We are just delighted about it. The real icing on the cake was on the day we gave him his own keyboard and he thanked me for being so patient with him and telling him what I did about learning to read music. He said, “now I understand what you meant. I feel like if I keep practicing, I’ll be able to play almost anything someday.” Wow!! That was worth all the stress of teaching these classes.
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<br />The great thing about this piano program the church has is that any one of them who are willing to work, practice, have good attendance and commit to serving in the church with their newly acquired skills and even be willing to teach others what they’ve learned, can earn their own personal keyboard, free of charge, for their efforts.
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<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBkoZXAsOOt3O8kdz5gq-JRh1pI6Qf2CeLK59oNLCx9RilqDlAWQgWhuhtXZ4ibkle58HrdXq6lpRcSqvmGALpoUGv6SpXh8L3kPeJYm_ggQRHJPN872USnHJxUWBnXOwA5Y5aXU1diQ/s1600/585.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643467516847131490" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBkoZXAsOOt3O8kdz5gq-JRh1pI6Qf2CeLK59oNLCx9RilqDlAWQgWhuhtXZ4ibkle58HrdXq6lpRcSqvmGALpoUGv6SpXh8L3kPeJYm_ggQRHJPN872USnHJxUWBnXOwA5Y5aXU1diQ/s400/585.jpg" /></a>
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<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpwy1pQoDLc4CaVBTdp3npQGpAMyhhVDwB7T_WwZOYZtG1p22SRuiSlilGJcsNlTNw1z5hSSgzlPHdU7pGmWhtShV00qBdFFAM1d_7rxFjoizi9toUKiMyhwTXCeNOdbjih3Ch1Zp8Qg/s1600/587.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643467512086782386" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpwy1pQoDLc4CaVBTdp3npQGpAMyhhVDwB7T_WwZOYZtG1p22SRuiSlilGJcsNlTNw1z5hSSgzlPHdU7pGmWhtShV00qBdFFAM1d_7rxFjoizi9toUKiMyhwTXCeNOdbjih3Ch1Zp8Qg/s400/587.jpg" /></a>
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<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMMUyZiJsbZvtkVTsha30p5buTMwCVp-QCxBsXB2wl3Bh2KA9G6eCz-B3ee9RnWo-_YSY8CtOfF_cgBPAVcLmL6fdO796h4CA_Dr8xEC3HmnH9xnZN_s4AsTS4oI-pxKDnQC9jVMKFgg/s1600/588.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643467511138102738" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMMUyZiJsbZvtkVTsha30p5buTMwCVp-QCxBsXB2wl3Bh2KA9G6eCz-B3ee9RnWo-_YSY8CtOfF_cgBPAVcLmL6fdO796h4CA_Dr8xEC3HmnH9xnZN_s4AsTS4oI-pxKDnQC9jVMKFgg/s400/588.jpg" /></a>
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<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRNdYYkjTxT49046gV1WPxkO29vo-eeSxrNbBmdTNQA77VJEuuDf0l3suruArL8QFc8nR_BemaIVE3gRnC0fB6WgULaVj-DQ7AYg3kHGF6bRKaGJErgCH1J23Ud-_w8shAnd8IPpAj3g/s1600/591.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643467509869712946" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRNdYYkjTxT49046gV1WPxkO29vo-eeSxrNbBmdTNQA77VJEuuDf0l3suruArL8QFc8nR_BemaIVE3gRnC0fB6WgULaVj-DQ7AYg3kHGF6bRKaGJErgCH1J23Ud-_w8shAnd8IPpAj3g/s400/591.jpg" /></a>
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<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOEw_GJVPFwvL7R9vq9zhk-3AXK8A3iEhNvkEVysnVIw39c5_4-OND6F7IIIzqpqGmeUgPcl41ZpbtMSRrGJ4iwllPGbcRZ2ibbuL22R-Uwk73L_XBJvFql2UW_sx2vaoACXK4rT0SNA/s1600/592.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643467330858490402" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOEw_GJVPFwvL7R9vq9zhk-3AXK8A3iEhNvkEVysnVIw39c5_4-OND6F7IIIzqpqGmeUgPcl41ZpbtMSRrGJ4iwllPGbcRZ2ibbuL22R-Uwk73L_XBJvFql2UW_sx2vaoACXK4rT0SNA/s400/592.jpg" /></a> These photos were taken on the day we delivered the first keyboards that had been earned by some of our students. The first one is of Misimoa, a young single adult in a ward way up north, who already plays the piano, but wondered about our coming up there to teach a class. It was not possible for us to do it at that time, but we suggested that if we got him a piano and the lesson books, he could surely teach it. So he did and has been having pretty good success. When we explained his situation to the people at the Church Music Department in SLC, they were more than willing to give him his own personal keyboard to use in teaching others. The other four photos are of the kids in the McKay Ward class, who are in the picture up above, receiving their own personal pianos. Both Lin and Sisi qualified, but I felt that one per family was enough, so that there will be other pianos available for other deserving students somewhere else. I’m not even sure if that’s a rule, but it feels right to me. Pictured are Mao, Star, Sisi and Lin and their mom, and Ane. All these kids are playing in church, primary and priesthood now and hopefully they’ll help some of the other kids catch up who didn’t stick with the class.
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<br />We’ve had the great fun of delivering 12 of these keyboards to deserving students already and will deliver 4 more tomorrow. I’ll be adding those photos in the next paragraph and later in the blog. I’m sure it’ll be boring for you to see all these different pictures of people you don’t even know, but since this blog is also our journal, each of those photos with their names on them will mean a lot to us someday. Those days we deliver the keyboards to them have been great fun. It,s just like Christmas for us all. They are so excited to have their own keyboard piano and we are delighted to see them earn it.
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<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_FnRiA_tPCCC8lolp3TFPUvBuJ_EG_KRm9Z3D70wKTX0PgdtZ87Cccar-2BGBqcI4TjcFPxMqbQ8QUujAXYR_8f7NwLMptW7LR2B4sq4wMOp2HePD044PBNsi7q9TJyfSPvFx55P7vg/s1600/579.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643467330658178162" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_FnRiA_tPCCC8lolp3TFPUvBuJ_EG_KRm9Z3D70wKTX0PgdtZ87Cccar-2BGBqcI4TjcFPxMqbQ8QUujAXYR_8f7NwLMptW7LR2B4sq4wMOp2HePD044PBNsi7q9TJyfSPvFx55P7vg/s400/579.jpg" /></a> This young girl was 10 when her class started. We probably wouldn’t have allowed her to stay in the class because of her age, but her aunt Seminari was helping me teach the class and promised she’d help her keep up. Well, she didn’t just keep up. She surpassed everyone in the class and was playing in church before we knew it out of the Hymns Made Easy book, probably after about three months. At that time, she was the only piano player they had in that ward, Saasa’ai, and they were pleased to have her. Besides having her aunt encouraging and helping her, she just plain loved to play the piano, and her parents told me that when she wasn’t in school or doing her homework, she was practicing. She’s 11 now and is able to play most hymns in the more difficult green hymn book. We are so proud of her and were delighted to deliver the first personal keyboard in her ward to her. She speaks excellent English and is a top student at school.
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<br />I’ve probably mentioned before, but I’m not sure, that the Church sent 8 practice keyboards for me to use in these two classes, so each student had access to a piano, if they couldn’t get to the church, which is a long, long walk for some of them. They mostly shared the keyboards with others who lived nearby, so most had access to a piano at least half of the week. They brought the keyboards to class and then we kept them for one day for our next class, and then delivered them back to their homes for the rest of the week. We put plenty of mileage on our car moving keyboards back and forth, but feel it really paid off.
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<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOC4OJ_VAW49QUIwY5v0fVRg5bqAcs_cAqQ3KTW9aYfOle1B4qPhAQb1rSEXbezdTAVRs44uMSfsfawQZ5BYYUZ8hbtyj_DgNuDERQFqV5v3esWxfkaw_z4eQCWqXU5o8xOidrBhuHrQ/s1600/582.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643467328523780274" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOC4OJ_VAW49QUIwY5v0fVRg5bqAcs_cAqQ3KTW9aYfOle1B4qPhAQb1rSEXbezdTAVRs44uMSfsfawQZ5BYYUZ8hbtyj_DgNuDERQFqV5v3esWxfkaw_z4eQCWqXU5o8xOidrBhuHrQ/s400/582.jpg" /></a> Feisi joined our class in Moesavili Ward, who also had no one confident enough to play in sacrament meeting. He already knew how to read music but was not comfortable playing out of the green hymn book. I gave him a copy of the Hymns Made Easy book and he just went to town on that. Very soon he was playing in church and has been ever since. He stayed with the class for awhile and then became one of my helpers. Now that the class has finished, he’s agreed to help other students who didn’t finish the first class.
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<br />JULY 30, 2011
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<br />HELLO AGAIN - I’m ashamed to say that it’s been exactly one month since I wrote in this blog the last time. We now have only a little over 4 months until time to return home. I’m not sure why I’ve had such a mental block about getting back to the blog. Maybe because I know that once I sit down to it again, I’ll spend more time on it that I should. Also, I realize that so much of what we are doing is so similar to what we’ve been writing about for the past 19 months, it’s hard to come up with new experiences.
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<br />Well, I got my pictures out to find out what the last ones were that I sent, and realized that I quit before I was really finished on the last blog segment because I had described in detail the funeral of Nelson, the boy who was killed falling from a coconut tree. I remember feeling so drained after that, I just had to quit and save the rest for next time. Now that I’ve discovered where I’m supposed to be, I realize how much further behind I was than I thought. So I’ll plunge back in and finish up what didn’t get done on the last blog.
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<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3rP7XXZG_UBg0Q81EH2qha9bvaCWuWOpPBjSDruI5E2qCrZyGwTEG1P0ewo2IrOHyPifgxd1WDGBurUlQQY3fUifItNOtNL2bJn2wJBHLA1DPAfCInc4tLT7MolDv7QI_4Q8MgP3z3Q/s1600/633.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643467326806564754" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3rP7XXZG_UBg0Q81EH2qha9bvaCWuWOpPBjSDruI5E2qCrZyGwTEG1P0ewo2IrOHyPifgxd1WDGBurUlQQY3fUifItNOtNL2bJn2wJBHLA1DPAfCInc4tLT7MolDv7QI_4Q8MgP3z3Q/s400/633.jpg" /></a>
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<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfyPSfejbuml-PnjlYYogx4BweUboYbjIZaD0BepwRpVW_hLAjiG13gQTYYvn3X85ZCKr97uJGL6RHdUgI66mYf48jxxlpjxRVp2mxESaVejF7ZSasLpTGXJ781qQS2RD0d5EVrkXSXQ/s1600/636.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643467327923798930" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfyPSfejbuml-PnjlYYogx4BweUboYbjIZaD0BepwRpVW_hLAjiG13gQTYYvn3X85ZCKr97uJGL6RHdUgI66mYf48jxxlpjxRVp2mxESaVejF7ZSasLpTGXJ781qQS2RD0d5EVrkXSXQ/s400/636.jpg" /></a>
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<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAKSbrrrVGRpHR4zSfkIkW0JB7vkI6GVjYzmWio7ZYSOS04pjyyQDvEU0c1fu1w5cWqy9svitkVkNbdESN3GDDMq6u2HGhd7eeHvKtOOKCnmtHJLZDXJDqXIn69nYmPu7gBqovtZuvDA/s1600/638.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643467067555746354" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAKSbrrrVGRpHR4zSfkIkW0JB7vkI6GVjYzmWio7ZYSOS04pjyyQDvEU0c1fu1w5cWqy9svitkVkNbdESN3GDDMq6u2HGhd7eeHvKtOOKCnmtHJLZDXJDqXIn69nYmPu7gBqovtZuvDA/s400/638.jpg" /></a>
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<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6ACb6ZEmm6_4_AVUWF6XT-b7umb3Yg9j97seJt79c4p2eVBfdtcGHGtYg3jKFEkc_tyRsMMa1Lra3TcTuIcGUCkhwbSZ_fs89GXmPLqs6N1FvCUpCisx619MWmLp-m9h-3hojs6KhkA/s1600/639.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643467061030917410" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6ACb6ZEmm6_4_AVUWF6XT-b7umb3Yg9j97seJt79c4p2eVBfdtcGHGtYg3jKFEkc_tyRsMMa1Lra3TcTuIcGUCkhwbSZ_fs89GXmPLqs6N1FvCUpCisx619MWmLp-m9h-3hojs6KhkA/s400/639.jpg" /></a>
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<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkxCsbE1YOZx6fSwJZnYdUtQ06Sffj4jqYCb9rwNLLTISF-54Xku5JPH5Ltt_9p0C25nSLIg6v-5_45TbHzLgxAMqOCrxUpy67rPA7PTUsFJeHR4zCHF10SZwsdwdmKFBdKAcBj9entQ/s1600/642.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643467063269446946" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkxCsbE1YOZx6fSwJZnYdUtQ06Sffj4jqYCb9rwNLLTISF-54Xku5JPH5Ltt_9p0C25nSLIg6v-5_45TbHzLgxAMqOCrxUpy67rPA7PTUsFJeHR4zCHF10SZwsdwdmKFBdKAcBj9entQ/s400/642.jpg" /></a> These students were all in the Saasa’ai class and progressed at about the same rate and are all playing in church, primary, etc. They were very faithful coming to class and doing their practicing. Veronika, who lived far up into the bush where they had no electricity and had to carry water from town to have any at all, purchased batteries for the piano because she could not plug it in. She practiced by night by the light of a small kerosene lantern, their only source of light. She’s done so well and we were so happy to deliver her piano to her, as was she to receive it.
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<br />Those two piano classes in Moesavili and Saasa’ai have finished up now and we had a final combined concert, where each student prepared a hymn to play as a solo, and then again as accompaniment for the audience to sing along. They all did so well and we felt so good to have had some positive results from the stress of keeping up the classes. Both classes started with many more students, and we had to double up on pianos for awhile; but as some students hadn’t realized how hard they would have to work to learn to play, many stopped coming and both classes diminished to manageable sizes. I had to crack down on the students who were not attending faithfully, and just kept moving ahead. In the first set of classes I taught in McKay Ward, I tried to catch everyone up if they missed a class, and so some of the students who were keeping up started to get bored going back over what they had already mastered. We changed after that and let the students know that we couldn’t back up any more. If they missed a class, it was up to them to find out how to catch up. It sounds harsh, but we’ve learned that we must keep the class moving ahead for those who are making the effort to keep up, and thereby kind of weed out the lazier students.
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<br />We’ve since started three other piano classes, one in the first stake we worked in where we live, and two others in two different stakes. We tried to keep the numbers down from the beginning. We started in Fataloa with about ten students and it quickly dwindled down to six, because we wouldn’t back up for those who missed class and weren’t practicing. We started with only four in the Sili Ward and all are still doing well. In fact, they are moving ahead of the Fataloa Ward who’ve been going almost a month longer.
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<br />The third class we teach is up in Sagone Ward, in Sagone Stake, almost an hour and a half drive from here. The stake president called us at home and explained that he’d heard about our classes and wondered if we could teach one up there. There were two wards and one branch who had no piano players at all. They were all fairly close together, so we suggested that we would be willing to teach one class, with about two from each ward, and they would all need to be over 12 yrs old and speak good English. We set up a time for the first class, assuming that the message about English and a small class had been understood. We’re not sure what happened, but when we got up there that day, with 6 keyboards, there were almost 30 people waiting for us, many of them young children who did not speak English. We had to spend quite a bit of time trying to kindly break the news that we could not teach them all at this time, especially since I couldn’t speak Samoan and the lessons were written in English. There were some adult parents there who did speak English and asked if they could help their children keep up with the class. We finally were able to whittle the class down to about 15, some of whom had parents who would help with translation. The two young elders working in that area both play piano and have been helping us also. The kids we had to turn away, wanted to stay around and watch the class that day and we told them they were welcome.
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<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4a2WdmZ1X-gvXlIaUAs_fp7tWw8pBGwqw5312xIYr_uCG5Jg1Pq2hDJgm03laJ8qTfC8EfVOzeknrnZE8xRhjMwuuufck9rgtTwPEdTz33vTnx1dF67IWOrlmPaKQgSnmE2Tn_EtMqQ/s1600/694.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643467058656798930" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4a2WdmZ1X-gvXlIaUAs_fp7tWw8pBGwqw5312xIYr_uCG5Jg1Pq2hDJgm03laJ8qTfC8EfVOzeknrnZE8xRhjMwuuufck9rgtTwPEdTz33vTnx1dF67IWOrlmPaKQgSnmE2Tn_EtMqQ/s400/694.jpg" /></a> When we finally got that first class started after almost an hour of discussion and decision-making, setting up tables for keyboards, and moving the two existing pianos nearby in order to put three students on each of those pianos. Two other students had brought keyboards from home, which helped a lot. That class actually went amazingly well, with all the helpers and extra pianos we had. My heart rate had slowed significantly from the beginning of the class when I first saw all those people waiting for a class, many of the them young children. When we came the next week, however, thinking it would go as smoothly as the first one finally did, we had the same 15 students, but none of the parent helpers. The two kids who had brought keyboards from home did not have theirs and didn’t seem to want to bring them again. We discovered that the one very large keyboard had been brought over from the branch many miles away. It was a full size keyboard, very heavy and was brought over in a car, but would have to have been carried on a bicycle after that, an obvious impossibility. We pushed ahead putting two kids on the small keyboards and 3 on each of the pianos and that part worked okay. We were slowed down considerably because of lack of individual translation help. After teaching that class that way, we had two other mothers come along last week and agreed to take the class along with their kids, in order to help. This week they were not there, so we had a discussion with the elders after a slow and frustrating class about maybe having to cut the class down to only English speakers in order for us to be able to move the class along far enough in the time we have left here in Samoa. Gratefully, we will be receiving 8 more practice pianos from the church to assist in the piano shortage in our classes, and that will alleviate a little of the stress, and give kids a chance to have a piano at home to practice on during the week.
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<br />We are 19 months into our mission and are still trying to learn about and accept the fact that cultural differences still play a big part in what we would call success. Just because someone has said they would be there last week, doesn’t necessarily mean they will be every week after that. Often when we tell them all we’ll see them next week, they’ll say “what day?” We have to explain each time that it will be the same day as it has been every week at the same time, Wednesday at 2:30. The Samoans are just so laid back in their schedules, and certainly don’t live their lives by the calendar and the clock like we’re used to. It’s actually quite amazing what they accomplish anyway, in spite of our frustration.
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<br />We still have a couple of other wards who want us to start some classes, but because of the short time we have left, we had to suggest that they need to find one adult English-speaker/piano player in those wards who will be willing to work with us to start a class, assist with the class, and then take over when we are gone. Hopefully we can make that work for them. We’ll be scrambling around the next four months to find people to work with us on the existing classes, who’ll be willing to take over if we aren’t finished when we have to leave.
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<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-luifPNzUl76p5AbVR-fzVqGqHohK4dm6dKwdWkqEAl7r4vQokZBDQm4NIZw7X4Z5aNA6rTgRqCp-vt2noA3P69rRCDP4ATq3G0n48zB-071fsyLiPJpxh22OsI49UcirertGBPyeLA/s1600/673.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643467056630373874" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-luifPNzUl76p5AbVR-fzVqGqHohK4dm6dKwdWkqEAl7r4vQokZBDQm4NIZw7X4Z5aNA6rTgRqCp-vt2noA3P69rRCDP4ATq3G0n48zB-071fsyLiPJpxh22OsI49UcirertGBPyeLA/s400/673.jpg" /></a> Even though this seems like a major shift in subjects, it does show a perfect example of an astonishing part of the Samoan culture. The first picture should have been one of several people handing gas cans out of the bus windows to be filled at the gas station, where the bus had stopped just for that purpose. I had to run and grab my camera in order to take the next two pictures of those gas cans being filled by the worker at the gas station, while other cars waited to be served. The cans were then taken to the back of the bus and placed in a compartment there and money was collected through the window for the purchased gas and then the bus moved on. I’m guessing it was sitting there about ten minutes, with a busload of steaming passengers patiently waiting while that transaction took place. My guess is that the same bus probably stopped at a couple of roadside stores along the way for other passengers to run and purchase something and then get back on the bus, again while all inside waited patiently. Can you imagine that happening in the U.S.? It seems so amusing to us, but is so everyday Samoan in nature. I guess when you consider that so few of them have cars to get into town, they all feel so privileged to be able to ride the bus to get their errands done, and are more than willing for the bus to take it’s own sweet time on many stops and starts. The only people who might have a problem with that occurrence would probably be any palagi tourists on the bus. I’m sure glad we have our own car to get around in.
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<br />Since we’ve been here, there have been three different American Senior couples working as missionaries up at Vaiola College. The vans they use in their off hours, have to be used for transporting students back and forth during the school days, and then the missionaries have the use of it in the evenings and weekends. They are asked to chauffeur other teachers on into town on Saturdays and families to church on Sundays. They don’t have to pay for gas unless they use the van for their own purposes. It’s so funny to hear the missionaries talk about their chauffeuring experiences when they first get here, and discover what it’s like to take a dozen busy females all over town to do their shopping. Even if stores are only 100 ft apart, they don’t understand why the Samoans don’t all get out at one spot and walk to the nearby stores, instead of waiting patiently in the car until the one is finished in the one store and then the car can move on to the next one just a few feet away. We explain that it’s just like the bus they’re used to. I think Elder Goulding has refused to do that and finally insisted that if other stores were close by, he would wait in the car while they all did their shopping at the same time and then come back and the van would move to another part of town. The nice thing for the missionaries is that they don’t have to pay for the gas on those trips and they can get their own shopping done as well. He feels that he’s teaching them a lesson about being more efficient. That is his job, I guess. He teaches classes to the teachers up there at the college on how to be better teachers and become accredited teachers with a degree. Elder Goulding was not only a high school principal for many years before he retired, but also spent considerable time in the military, so he doesn’t mince words and every experience is a teaching experience. Sister Goulding teaches an educational psychology class to the teachers, trying to help them to learn new methods of discipline and motivation. Most teachers, all Samoans but educated elsewhere, respond at first with the notion that the existing method of smacking a kid with their hand or a stick gets the best results the quickest. It’s like pulling teeth to get them to accept the new ideas of positive motivation and more constructive discipline. She grits her teeth and keeps at it, but says it is really frustrating. She was a Special Ed teacher in Utah, and you can imagine that she must have wonderful patience usually. When they unload on us about these cultural differences, we just nod or shake our heads and say “welcome to Samoa.”
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<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimd_fyxAprLQxFuUOxNM1qZv7RcRq4q4EP1FYgzxuciUDWZBKJPIAYCGF8qWbG7Gzr5iC2BWXCcNT-ZpygHMC9YSDMPFVPqj39ohVgNWHlxd9u6QE_sqYjv88PEobm1uGj33yydUuaHA/s1600/477.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643466635773935938" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimd_fyxAprLQxFuUOxNM1qZv7RcRq4q4EP1FYgzxuciUDWZBKJPIAYCGF8qWbG7Gzr5iC2BWXCcNT-ZpygHMC9YSDMPFVPqj39ohVgNWHlxd9u6QE_sqYjv88PEobm1uGj33yydUuaHA/s400/477.jpg" /></a>
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<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsLIM9rgRjfnkaspAgI7OcsvCofWAzE3ejImcsMt6IEysem5xCdvhzSpo5g7ScCzfb1OiF5MMaGJpvBWgBz7iEZe1h4osCWvPInLn2qCJ40mMCKfGeZ5BzbOpYAJr0hzMCHSWp_ytJ5g/s1600/547.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643466635460873922" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsLIM9rgRjfnkaspAgI7OcsvCofWAzE3ejImcsMt6IEysem5xCdvhzSpo5g7ScCzfb1OiF5MMaGJpvBWgBz7iEZe1h4osCWvPInLn2qCJ40mMCKfGeZ5BzbOpYAJr0hzMCHSWp_ytJ5g/s400/547.jpg" /></a> The first of these two pictures was added to our blog several months ago, telling the story of the man who had received a much-desired truck from his children overseas, and when he died just a few months later, had his truck entombed in Its own little “garage tomb” attached to his own fancy tomb. Last month, as we were taking the Gouldings out for their first trip up that side of the island, we stopped to let them take a picture of the tomb with the garage and were shocked to notice that the front wall of the “garage tomb” had been knocked out and the truck was sitting out in the yard nearby.
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<br />It’s been sitting in the yard for weeks now, and the last time we went by we noticed the truck was still out but the front wall had been repaired and a regular-sized door had been added. We don’t know how they use the building now. It could be they were preparing it as a tomb for the next person who died, possibly the old man’s wife. That’s a total guess on our part, but we still see the truck in the yard and don’t know if someone is using it now. We need to ask someone who lives in that area for the details so we can satisfy our curiosity about it.
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<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx4N5Iyd9Radkgd5o5IWpdS0Hbk9uhNcX6gGo70oXQOMaT4Kk6F_l0aVgu1wOxFuLFedK84XmY6mweswA7t5RUepW69N4Mcy06cqVnvwvsISin7X0exMcrCWhnoQwEpKzH4FIud8z6Wg/s1600/546.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643466633002834386" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx4N5Iyd9Radkgd5o5IWpdS0Hbk9uhNcX6gGo70oXQOMaT4Kk6F_l0aVgu1wOxFuLFedK84XmY6mweswA7t5RUepW69N4Mcy06cqVnvwvsISin7X0exMcrCWhnoQwEpKzH4FIud8z6Wg/s400/546.jpg" /></a> As we started work in a different stake, we visited in a small branch, Satufia, which still meets in a Samoan fale, as pictured here. The Bishop’s office and restrooms are in newer little buildings on the grounds, but the congregation uses this large fale here, and the classes use the smaller fales around it. Those small fales have large gravel floors and it is interesting to try to maneuver a folding chair around on the rock floor, or even just sit straight for that matter. They seem to get along just fine in those circumstances. The last few times we’ve driven past this branch, there has been a large tent set up right next to the big fale. We wondered at first if they’d had a funeral or wedding, which situations often require a tent for extra seating. Since it’s still there after several weeks, we’re guessing that they have just grown out of the big fale and needed more space to seat the increasing size of their congregation. We’ll have to visit someone there who can give us some details, instead of guessing. We’re usually in a hurry to get somewhere else when we go by there and don’t have time to stop.
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<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCgE8OHRxcDShelhNPttDL3Sly_sXvHSfZwBQAQG4sTZMII7pHbWoQF_eczRwoeQoKEGyYFSjd_5sOXZjkNFCMMjIIZMqAeDfvBfXXz3EsWMQjyEgF2mZF8lup7T51y8RsQ6vJe8rCkQ/s1600/552.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643466629261546290" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCgE8OHRxcDShelhNPttDL3Sly_sXvHSfZwBQAQG4sTZMII7pHbWoQF_eczRwoeQoKEGyYFSjd_5sOXZjkNFCMMjIIZMqAeDfvBfXXz3EsWMQjyEgF2mZF8lup7T51y8RsQ6vJe8rCkQ/s400/552.jpg" /></a>
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<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjobKRpuy1-HCZWD8VJPQJKMg12I6o85enp1BjFOcUYRHfZFX_KKdDia87WvHun_n4HrrhtXvqZOxiTlp9GBwYd-vdQDDzkGBV1_PCw3OTGFzyCzvz4gU7Klr6L0lGI3iStegoDpHYtEQ/s1600/553.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643466626134911074" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjobKRpuy1-HCZWD8VJPQJKMg12I6o85enp1BjFOcUYRHfZFX_KKdDia87WvHun_n4HrrhtXvqZOxiTlp9GBwYd-vdQDDzkGBV1_PCw3OTGFzyCzvz4gU7Klr6L0lGI3iStegoDpHYtEQ/s400/553.jpg" /></a>
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<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAzv77pHhMkBtwEyPnVb_Ja_2AInHDROxdJEspMQxq-dOnkzL8P4M-c9wMLLqnRzncrDZs4DjpzQOfdWd7jQvLq-aO_ovQVUCsRRL7loRkI3PsaIExRyf3MIzYiBwULBr540cnzJdegg/s1600/555.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643466438939766434" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAzv77pHhMkBtwEyPnVb_Ja_2AInHDROxdJEspMQxq-dOnkzL8P4M-c9wMLLqnRzncrDZs4DjpzQOfdWd7jQvLq-aO_ovQVUCsRRL7loRkI3PsaIExRyf3MIzYiBwULBr540cnzJdegg/s400/555.jpg" /></a>
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<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDxX1hrzlK51HeD_Ta_evWV6JXuUaaQhY4axDjTWEtDMm45skcpBdfUaUvmTG_Tt5izya-LZcnPX7HaiHoN2y42cBFIoGgM2Ml0wdZUtlpUPw8VjfgAb5LrN18ih7T6HEa-KIk1dhYFw/s1600/556.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643466435636440418" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDxX1hrzlK51HeD_Ta_evWV6JXuUaaQhY4axDjTWEtDMm45skcpBdfUaUvmTG_Tt5izya-LZcnPX7HaiHoN2y42cBFIoGgM2Ml0wdZUtlpUPw8VjfgAb5LrN18ih7T6HEa-KIk1dhYFw/s400/556.jpg" /></a> We see these poinsettia bushes in full bloom in certain parts of the islands this time of year. After I had taken this picture, we drove by that same bush a few weeks later and there were twice as many blooms, with much larger and brighter red petals than before. I didn’t have my camera, or you can be sure I would have had another picture to show you.
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<br />Last month, Elder and Sister Weber, from Elk Ridge down near Payson, came over to Savai’i to set up a dental clinic at Vaiola College, where there were some 500 people to treat. He’s a dentist, obviously, and has had a free clinic going on over in Pesega for several months now, treating all the Pesega students and teachers, missionaries, and any other Samoans, members or non-members who are willing to stand in line each morning starting before 6:00 a.m. in order to get an appointment for that day. They can only take so many each day, since they only have one dentist and two chairs, and the others all have to be turned away, but are back the next day. Samoans do not have readily available dental care, and many just let their kid’s baby teeth go bad, because they figure they’re going to lose them anyway. Unfortunately, when their second set of teeth come in, they’re not cared for any better and Elder Weber and his wife have been astounded at the amount of work that needs to be done in the mouths of some of the Pesega and Vaiola students, and also the families that come from the surrounding villages, many of whom have never been to a dentist. Teeth are an interesting situation here in Samoa. There are many older people who have lost almost all of their teeth. Whenever there was a serious toothache or other obvious problem, the solution was just to pull the tooth out. It’s not unusual to see a pretty young woman or girl with one or two of their front teeth just gone. When some of the people have come to Weber’s clinic with a bad toothache, they just ask to have it pulled. Elder Weber explains to many of them that the tooth can be saved with a little bit of work, or a lot in some cases. At first, they are reluctant to do anything but the usual treatment of tooth pulling, but after an explanation many allow him to go ahead and work on them. He can do some miraculous work on teeth that just need to be cleaned, or maybe a filling and resurfacing of a front tooth that is starting to decay. That’s his favorite kind of job to do, and will literally transform their smile. They have to be cautioned that they must keep brushing the newly fixed “teeth” or the pretty white new surface will stain and discolor the same way again. They give toothcare classes in all the schools, teaching kids how to brush and how often and give them all a toothbrush. The non-school patients from the villages are given a short toothbrushing demonstration right there in the clinic, as they come for their appointments.
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<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNfU4Bzhx7bvGY3_A9CibjvjxAryshOeWSySbdcpW37HdheFDkWAcDBFcVVUUWqso-rXE1zEk6Xhl7gjqzy6XVz-SBj3uL0QkFjfjekFVj2V1zW1S5IR0E9D_B6oj7BNEN0VOf5sfgDA/s1600/681.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643466431315119170" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNfU4Bzhx7bvGY3_A9CibjvjxAryshOeWSySbdcpW37HdheFDkWAcDBFcVVUUWqso-rXE1zEk6Xhl7gjqzy6XVz-SBj3uL0QkFjfjekFVj2V1zW1S5IR0E9D_B6oj7BNEN0VOf5sfgDA/s400/681.jpg" /></a>
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<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhncZw5v8XuoUC0dtjqFD1nGRNixYoND0d2shH0muZG2kbP8z73vrv1rHL8jPnvR_C_bT1KsEus_SvT-3omwpiJrJh6cz0vRL6h0fUPinRcpMqPqqXl8X0e9YSjHK8BKThmHJhPpmu8Eg/s1600/682.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643466428913479666" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhncZw5v8XuoUC0dtjqFD1nGRNixYoND0d2shH0muZG2kbP8z73vrv1rHL8jPnvR_C_bT1KsEus_SvT-3omwpiJrJh6cz0vRL6h0fUPinRcpMqPqqXl8X0e9YSjHK8BKThmHJhPpmu8Eg/s400/682.jpg" /></a>
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<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrEQbyrABbd7DrFSuDvbQN7z962x6BtOoebXDdreExpXommT365b802JfNFksZafn8I3ni0gl0YLfQQefANbi9N9vv9aUCvmV99QIaJPthV3Mziq-zUU7L_-hMd2yQbzI9VvpRb7x2ow/s1600/685.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643466427337461858" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrEQbyrABbd7DrFSuDvbQN7z962x6BtOoebXDdreExpXommT365b802JfNFksZafn8I3ni0gl0YLfQQefANbi9N9vv9aUCvmV99QIaJPthV3Mziq-zUU7L_-hMd2yQbzI9VvpRb7x2ow/s400/685.jpg" /></a> These are pictures of the portable dental clinic being set up in the resource center at Vaiola College, where the Webers came for over a week and examined and treated hundreds of patients. They have two portable dentist chairs that fold up into their van, along with all kinds of sterilizing, drilling, cleaning, lighting gadgets that are needed for their work. We helped them get unloaded and set up for that first week in Vaiola and were amazed at the volume of things they had to transport around in order to set up a temporary clinic. The Webers work a long, hard 8-plus hour day, with seldom a lunch break. Sister Weber is firm about not making appointments outside of their usual hours, except for extreme emergencies. She explains to people who tell her that it’s not convenient for them to come during regular hours, that she is trying to keep a very tired dentist alive to treat more patients the next day. This is supposedly a humanitarian effort, but you’d be surprised at how many wealthy people come to the clinic for their free services. Most of those people are not willing to stand in line each morning with the other patients who come as early at 6:00 a.m. to try to get an appointment. The clinic is first come, first serve, and they pretty well know how many patients they can treat each day, and make appointments for the first ones in line to be treated that day and the others are asked to come back another day and wait in line. One women, who has a pretty important government job, came in the middle of the day to make an appointment for another day. (She had tried to have her secretary call for an appointment, but was told that the patients must come in themselves to make their appointments, like everyone else.) When this woman showed up partway through the day, Sister Weber explained that she would have to come early in the morning to get in line to make an appointment. The woman very authoritatively told Sister Weber “You don’t seem to understand. I am a very busy person with a strict time schedule and I don’t have time to stand in line for an appointment.” Sister Weber is beautifully ruthless with these people, many of whom already have a whole mouthful of gold and $1000’s of dollars worth of work already done in their mouth. She firmly says to them, with a smile, “YOU don’t seem to understand. This is a humanitarian clinic, first come, first serve, and we also have a very strict schedule to keep in order to offer this free service to the deserving people of Samoa who have no means of transportation or enough money to pay for dental care by one of the few dentists in the city.” That will usually shut them up and they almost give up by saying they’ll just have to go to another dentist. Sister Weber smiles and says “that sounds like a really good idea. Thank you for coming in.”
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<br />The Webers have many stories to tell about their experiences at the clinic, some that make them sad when they see the lack of dental help the average Samoans have, and some that make them really angry. They’ve actually had patients come from as far away as Australia, New Zealand and even the U.S. to get free dental work done, because the plane fare is cheaper than their dentist at home. They are reluctant to stand in line, but when confronted by “General Sister Weber” realize they have no choice, since they’ve come all this way for the service. The Webers are not allowed to turn anyone away, but it really makes Elder Weber burn when patients open their mouths and he sees how many thousands of dollars they have already spent on their teeth. He still does the work, because they did follow the rules. He’s a very kind man and would never say anything negative to them. Sister Weber says that’s her job. He’s the dentist and her job is to make the days as easy for him as possible. She’s such a hoot. We just love them both. They have raised 14 children, 5 of their own and 9 adopted from several different cultures. They have some very interesting stories to tell about all these different children and some of their problems. Someone needs to write a book about the Webers. I suggested it to her, but she says “I’m not sure I want to go through all that again.” They felt getting away on a mission was the perfect way to help those adult children learn how to fend for themselves, and will probably serve more missions when they are finished with this one.
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<br />Sister Weber is also a gutsy missionary. There is a beautiful colored chalk diagram of The Plan of Salvation on the blackboard that the patients face from the dental chairs. They treat many non-members at the clinic, and many will ask about the diagram. Just about the time they open their mouth to be examined by the dentist, Sister Weber will explain the pictures to them. They are a truly captive audience and when they are finished she always has pamphlets and Books of Mormon to give away for any who have more questions. It’s amazing how many investigators she has turned over to the missionaries. She keeps track of how they’re doing and continually encourages the missionaries on their behalf.
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<br />This is probably a good place to stop for this writing. I’ve found that if I get many more than 20 pictures on one blog segment, my email just won’t handle it. We sure hope this little old laptop will survive the last few months of our mission. It’s running out of space and has a couple of other quirks that we pray over sometimes, hoping to keep it working. Fortunately, we have a good automatic back up system and we do it quite often to make sure we don’t lose important stuff.
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<br />Hope all is well with you and your families.
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<br />With Love from Elder and Sister Krogh
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<br />John & Karen Kroghhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08097598934218597824noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7660554378340018126.post-85384161589572095242011-06-06T07:39:00.000-07:002011-06-06T08:03:41.243-07:00Blog #17 – May 17,2011<br /><br />Welcome to the next segment of our blog, which is being started as we get down to about 6-1/2 months left in our mission. It’s hard to believe we’ve been here for over 17 months now. Elder and Sister Kelly, who we were with in the MTC last year, will be leaving to go home in less than a month, since they opted for an 18 month mission. We hate to see them leave because they are extra special friends, and we’re not sure when we’ll ever see them again, since they live way over in Eastern Canada. Sounds like a good reason to take a trip that direction, I guess.<br /><br />So much of what we are doing these days is a repetition of what we’ve been doing for the last 17 months except that we’ve worked in about sixteen different wards in two different stakes. We’ll be finishing up with the second stake this next week and we’re just waiting to meet with President Haleck next week to find out where he wants us to move on to. We talked to him a little last month, knowing we’d be finishing up in that stake and we discussed some different options. Any direction we go means we’ll have to make a big decision about housing, because the other stakes are so much further from where we live now. Our place is about dead center in the big area of where we’ve worked so far and we’re travelled both directions many times, probably over a half hour drive to the two furthest wards in each stake. We’ve talked about moving completely to a new place in a completely different area, which we’re not too excited about because we’ve done so much to this place to feel settled and make it livable. It’s very comfortable and convenient, has handy laundry facilities, and is in a secure setting on the grounds of this small hotel. We’ve been quite happy here and will miss the owners and workers at the hotel, who we’ve grown attached to. We also see so much of the people in the other wards we’ve worked in just along the road as we travel back and forth. Until our piano classes are finished in those wards, we at least get to see some of them every week. We’ve made some great friends in those wards and feel that maybe we’ve helped make a little difference in some of their lives. The nature of this mission is that we just sort of get started making visits in each ward with local leaders, encourage inactive members to remember the blessings that can come from being close to the Lord and His Church, see some of them come back and then we move on and leave the fellowshipping up to the local members, which is as it should be, of course, but we really miss those new friends we’ve made. If we do move out of the area, we won’t even get to see them along the road and wave and greet them all along the way like we do now.<br /><br />Either direction we could go on to the next stakes will be over an hour drive each way almost every day. That may not sound like so much to people who are used to commuting from Wallsburg to SLC everyday, winter or summer, but if your gas prices are going up by leaps and bounds like they are here, it takes a pretty good bite out of the budget. One option we’ve discussed is to maybe keep this place and then find somewhere to stay for 2 to 3 days a week close to the area we’d be working in and then come back to this area for the other days, where we are still teaching piano classes and have to keep track of the missionary mail and meds and be close to the internet café, which is our only connection to the outside world. WE do know that there is one little missionary house in one stake that is empty right now and we might be able to use it sometimes. There are also people in the different wards who have possible places to stay overnight. Either of those options wouldn’t add much, if any, to our housing budget. Well, there’s not much we can do but speculate about it right now, but will hopefully know our plans by next week sometime.<br /><br />(Here it is a new week and we were able to meet with President Haleck yesterday. We’ll be moving on down south from where we are to the Sagone Stake, which is over an hour’s drive from Lalomalava. For now, we’ve decided to keep our current little house, and commute down that way and probably spend two nights and three consecutive days working in that area, and then come back home to do laundry, our piano classes, etc. We haven’t found for sure where we’ll be staying for those two nights in that stake, but that will be up to us to start asking around to see what’s available. It may cost a little more in terms of our housing budget, but we’ll be spending a lot less on gas, and time on the road, if we don’t go back and forth every day. Our life and schedule will definitely change once we start on that routine and it will just be another new adventure to try to make it all work.)<br /><br />As I was going over the last several photos we’ve taken, I’ve noticed several that just kind of jump around from place to place, but are things we’d like to share and have in our permanent record.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUWIQzMM9P3A7bhX_MEmFl5FhsdCq_v-wd_k09s8FeK8zitFtByqLcimlUZHEVAH7gZSytovmfh5o55dlU5S8_a7j92lHhRYWFdxOQehLE4O1C5dL55nSMaOn7HiNn6JGxao99R8jOzw/s1600/351.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615118796642889458" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUWIQzMM9P3A7bhX_MEmFl5FhsdCq_v-wd_k09s8FeK8zitFtByqLcimlUZHEVAH7gZSytovmfh5o55dlU5S8_a7j92lHhRYWFdxOQehLE4O1C5dL55nSMaOn7HiNn6JGxao99R8jOzw/s400/351.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrvom2N7Oxw4hyU67D38ie3-Kw43VGR7LyniihXU19Y44g9IvfzIiZ3bqi6uW1gxVKkIxhIyyiLcPL86LGFn4z4CrHfYV22R36ygRODQunh_qK4yYcGoIfXOFRz6E3rK5UGFWfRhhJ1Q/s1600/353.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615118793667926802" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrvom2N7Oxw4hyU67D38ie3-Kw43VGR7LyniihXU19Y44g9IvfzIiZ3bqi6uW1gxVKkIxhIyyiLcPL86LGFn4z4CrHfYV22R36ygRODQunh_qK4yYcGoIfXOFRz6E3rK5UGFWfRhhJ1Q/s400/353.jpg" /></a> These first two pictures are of an amazing bush that is in full bloom everywhere right now. John just calls it the Christmas tree plant, because he doesn’t really know the name and each bloom looks like a little coral-colored Christmas tree almost a foot high. The flowers here in Samoa never cease to amaze us. We think we’ve seen them all and then something else shows up in a new season or a new area.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwqS-d98LKwWdhi1rytpK89wfuOx5HSeqCsa3OSTpVaN-HrtWxhJsnXDhHqlPkyDj58uWJzTiXokJH3RLA7AedYa7NHgzyBE9rwW8Jc-rl5HuPxqb6Tca9x-1e565rhGjNnhKE8H41mA/s1600/354.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615118669491766754" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwqS-d98LKwWdhi1rytpK89wfuOx5HSeqCsa3OSTpVaN-HrtWxhJsnXDhHqlPkyDj58uWJzTiXokJH3RLA7AedYa7NHgzyBE9rwW8Jc-rl5HuPxqb6Tca9x-1e565rhGjNnhKE8H41mA/s400/354.jpg" /></a> Something we see a lot of are the new elders coming off the ferry on transfer day, which happens about every 6 weeks. They are usually in for a new experience here in Savaii, just because it’s more isolated and they’ll have fewer conveniences than they’ve had on the other two more densely populated islands. They will find that this is the Real Samoa though, more quiet, fewer cars and stores and less noise and some very special people, many of who remain close to the old strict cultural practices within their families and villages. Coming straight to Savaii as new green missionaries, can be quite a challenge for some of them, if they weren’t born and raised somewhere else in Samoa, because there aren’t as many English speakers, not as much Palagi food and housing, etc. Some jump right in with both feet, and others struggle a little at first as I did. If they are fortunate enough to get a Samoan companion, they will pick up the language much quicker, even though it can be frustrating at first.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1mDTM_-Umoiv2cdqUG1sINlX4otLN4YEcqBBMmZBqcf6Klv0WRU9NETxz27XFk940gP_8CU-thilaOO7I-U0xC1U2bAKnx9gNMTusCFZG8qK2ZDXPu7nEfb22kRNpv_GknEqLUnRe2Q/s1600/357.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615118639118473042" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1mDTM_-Umoiv2cdqUG1sINlX4otLN4YEcqBBMmZBqcf6Klv0WRU9NETxz27XFk940gP_8CU-thilaOO7I-U0xC1U2bAKnx9gNMTusCFZG8qK2ZDXPu7nEfb22kRNpv_GknEqLUnRe2Q/s400/357.jpg" /></a> This is Elder Tuala, who is all dolled up because he is going home. He’s been the zone leader in a very difficult area and has done a fine job. He’s Samoan, but grew up in New Zealand, has excellent English and a lovely New Zealand accent, similar to British and Australian, but a little different still.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfTzD12j3kwWTLi7qwl25Wr_YwOAUhwcrs9iKXbyweg8gX5Z7ktOO_YId1YzJazdVvUXKfl9UEUZcxwd4-bP2c1rCnRtOfuml87xaFpCjZXKi1IGw5zpsULDfodxy0jkXOigJMKJO1ZQ/s1600/367.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615118544277399554" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfTzD12j3kwWTLi7qwl25Wr_YwOAUhwcrs9iKXbyweg8gX5Z7ktOO_YId1YzJazdVvUXKfl9UEUZcxwd4-bP2c1rCnRtOfuml87xaFpCjZXKi1IGw5zpsULDfodxy0jkXOigJMKJO1ZQ/s400/367.jpg" /></a> This is Elder Barnes, from Alpine, Utah, along with Elder Tuala. Elder Barnes will be replacing Elder Tuala as Zone leader and seems to be capable and enthusiastic enough to deal with that difficult area. We’ll really miss Elder Tuala. He’s such a pleasant and spiritual young man and has the most beautiful and infectious smile. I doubt we’ll ever see him again, which makes us sad, just like the other elders we’ve said goodbye to that have gone back to Australia and New Zealand.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwIa94Wn6C1f9kMwpU0LdWetHat21n2Ha4Q3DkTTLXDqeC0wDGRzk15klnX7_Ci_pPRcHlWEEge6XyeXWmqj8v5OoWY6Ln42SVswigeFXktk8bvcEVShdZqp-qCnkrCLb9ufS_LJzWUw/s1600/370.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615118537005123234" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwIa94Wn6C1f9kMwpU0LdWetHat21n2Ha4Q3DkTTLXDqeC0wDGRzk15klnX7_Ci_pPRcHlWEEge6XyeXWmqj8v5OoWY6Ln42SVswigeFXktk8bvcEVShdZqp-qCnkrCLb9ufS_LJzWUw/s400/370.jpg" /></a> Shifting gears again, this is just another beautiful example of the picturesque clouds we see here. If we were to see something like this in a painting, we’d probably not believe they were even close to being real. But here in Samoa, they are unusual but very real, and I never get tired of taking pictures of them, as you may have noticed by the many examples that have been included in our blog over the months.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicyyv81jt-zdubHk7tsr39wBF6N1OxV9gTDDArCqHOjHzsKwMQ0DZF2PayX-JC2sSM5AAbSHfQeNvCGOaNoXR_An3AHH_xE-quC6qgAtpIDIANZVs-PxmlXTBWpiZtZqIJnDgAg9Rgbg/s1600/064.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 299px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615118532503197746" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicyyv81jt-zdubHk7tsr39wBF6N1OxV9gTDDArCqHOjHzsKwMQ0DZF2PayX-JC2sSM5AAbSHfQeNvCGOaNoXR_An3AHH_xE-quC6qgAtpIDIANZVs-PxmlXTBWpiZtZqIJnDgAg9Rgbg/s400/064.jpg" /></a> Another shift takes us back several months to John’s beautiful and thriving tomato tree on the front wall of our little house here in Lalomalava. We’ve had months of wonderful tomatoes off that tree, although they’ll never compare to those we can grow at home.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaRgjmmAgsEWnWzjDFG9npxGF0W2uDbzuxT4x39e3_tnppkKOUrsqkMXrTuYASCEoFU7uC_cPRKgPm-vQJ11ev8YidgIYQeMljYZSyJyJRJuYc-Ok65Bp0MjNjdis6IMNsf4ePvdGDmA/s1600/373.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 299px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615118159115944930" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaRgjmmAgsEWnWzjDFG9npxGF0W2uDbzuxT4x39e3_tnppkKOUrsqkMXrTuYASCEoFU7uC_cPRKgPm-vQJ11ev8YidgIYQeMljYZSyJyJRJuYc-Ok65Bp0MjNjdis6IMNsf4ePvdGDmA/s400/373.jpg" /></a> Here’s a more current picture of that same tree with the last three tomatoes struggling to survive the end of the season. All three of our big tomato plants look about the same and we’ll soon have to start buying tomatoes, if we can even find them.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimfNR_6X5Vd3gJHrE-U0JeO35XcPYSHIPUk4qAbo7mpZYFjn5ipMlxx81rCZs1wezeqqH9BKni2HFCBiYnlljE-CshoM8SuzdHOe7LQd6XHU0iXl05dpFEJlnguLf47JazmLNK-25fCQ/s1600/376.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615118146169038722" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimfNR_6X5Vd3gJHrE-U0JeO35XcPYSHIPUk4qAbo7mpZYFjn5ipMlxx81rCZs1wezeqqH9BKni2HFCBiYnlljE-CshoM8SuzdHOe7LQd6XHU0iXl05dpFEJlnguLf47JazmLNK-25fCQ/s400/376.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFMPZmeyF86X9v8KFSmf1ZRPILbsgHrAK5sifCuJlqm0binHuDpFaons9Vxbxwv5BVsfQyFO1eTXKCIh3FDuu54GXTQQ2OR2aPww_oIAH9tpwCzzEiEQ0AeYbkIRvSb9QKIc2_uOgoKw/s1600/379.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615118144118667810" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFMPZmeyF86X9v8KFSmf1ZRPILbsgHrAK5sifCuJlqm0binHuDpFaons9Vxbxwv5BVsfQyFO1eTXKCIh3FDuu54GXTQQ2OR2aPww_oIAH9tpwCzzEiEQ0AeYbkIRvSb9QKIc2_uOgoKw/s400/379.jpg" /></a> John spent the better part of a morning taking this old plant down, along with all the cords and nails that were helping it to grow up the wall. It looks so bare now, just like the ground where he had all his pumpkin plants, which have stopped producing. The vines were still growing wild and had lots of blossoms, but just didn’t produce fruit anymore. We thought we’d get it all cleaned up like it was when we came last year, so that the grass would grow back and the hotel groundskeeper wouldn’t have to do anything but cut it when he does the rest of the acres of grass he cuts with a weed eater. John still has a few cabbages that he’s nursing along, but I think he’s had enough of this particular garden and is already starting to make plans for his new garden back in Wallsburg next Spring.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjsFEzMJFRKj3t39CFjQYMSVmA5E0YnPXfKrz1AWZc8B_7v3-MAAYtF3SyJgEV_JTryFHnJM9Y33Jol-5OEY_dpmfFY4NfNmTM0TdH-2Mpa9RVqvdbbXNLiBF4ZhvxZqzYQXvnHKA1Fg/s1600/463.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615118138181240210" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjsFEzMJFRKj3t39CFjQYMSVmA5E0YnPXfKrz1AWZc8B_7v3-MAAYtF3SyJgEV_JTryFHnJM9Y33Jol-5OEY_dpmfFY4NfNmTM0TdH-2Mpa9RVqvdbbXNLiBF4ZhvxZqzYQXvnHKA1Fg/s400/463.jpg" /></a> This beautifully decorated and maintained fale belongs to a family in Moesavili Ward, who have three girls taking our piano class. We pick up and drop off their pianos every week, moving them back and forth between piano classes, and then we pick the girls up for class on Fridays. I don’t know why I didn’t get a picture of the outside of this fale and the accompanying one the family lives in, but I was so intrigued with the ceiling that’s completely covered with fabric all pieced together almost like a big quilt. We see that a lot, but this is one of the nicer one’s we’ve seen.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXe2_ExTqJjJ3jPwfTsSQvvgg_lz0ljCFJlSNV_2w43W2-H8VpM3K-rH8ZeqcuYiV5ydwO4XwMszh-SixCe3CER6FrwDNnxKLQoJSeC5ZT6BWsvMZNk99YJRNSostY2cCCmhuTxs9yhw/s1600/464.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615118128840723058" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXe2_ExTqJjJ3jPwfTsSQvvgg_lz0ljCFJlSNV_2w43W2-H8VpM3K-rH8ZeqcuYiV5ydwO4XwMszh-SixCe3CER6FrwDNnxKLQoJSeC5ZT6BWsvMZNk99YJRNSostY2cCCmhuTxs9yhw/s400/464.jpg" /></a> So’onalofa, pictured here inside the fale, is the oldest of the girls in that family and is a beautiful statuesque young woman taller than I am. She goes to Vaiola College and has great English and is coming along quite nicely on the piano. I wish I had a picture of the youngest girl in the family, Mesepi. She is about 11 years old and absolutely gorgeous, and will probably be the best piano player of the bunch. She’s young and has learned fast and is willing to practice a lot. Actually, I just remembered that I had taken a couple of pictures of her several months ago at a stake primary program. I had recognized her as one of the 16 kids in my new piano class last year and had to snap a couple of shots of her. I don’t remember if I’ve included this in the blog before, but I’m happy to find it now that I know her so much better.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRgf-FDtemr9NzLu1MuqZs11dKKmW0j6mRsT6mPSUx-jfMRhyphenhyphenASgW2AZVyOGKqx-AxUZhQtON1A5bbTksQ-sZAw35pxhz1Bg6eoWu4RypEgpYqosmvaJoCXjSeuAb-7MlcGLiN3OxOQw/s1600/917.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615117924686994834" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRgf-FDtemr9NzLu1MuqZs11dKKmW0j6mRsT6mPSUx-jfMRhyphenhyphenASgW2AZVyOGKqx-AxUZhQtON1A5bbTksQ-sZAw35pxhz1Bg6eoWu4RypEgpYqosmvaJoCXjSeuAb-7MlcGLiN3OxOQw/s400/917.jpg" /></a> Here she is front and center in her ward primary group.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmNZtSyzWAY08CLeyT2fGpm0wHsn1sEZul-nvI4rL5o7Tq2Te7T5PO5Z4x7sEZ5649tR2sDYrXJapydhRk2mUTBDXPsySSdkW6GW9TBfiCOrZLv3z17ofiMr1RJ_6y6SkvFB1D_juCpA/s1600/920.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615117917855731634" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmNZtSyzWAY08CLeyT2fGpm0wHsn1sEZul-nvI4rL5o7Tq2Te7T5PO5Z4x7sEZ5649tR2sDYrXJapydhRk2mUTBDXPsySSdkW6GW9TBfiCOrZLv3z17ofiMr1RJ_6y6SkvFB1D_juCpA/s400/920.jpg" /></a> This is a closeup of Mesepi in the same group. She is actually just as sweet and serene as she looks and I don’t think she has a clue that she’s one of the prettiest girls around. I wish I could see her all grown up and find out how far she went with her piano playing. Wow, it’ll be hard to leave these kids behind that we’ve gotten so attached to in our classes. The closer we get to the end of our mission makes me realize more and more that I really want to come back in a few years and see all these wonderful people again, if it’s at all possible.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtfH7Nr1PvZ5MRqWiTDFBKjKAJvXfmx2G0lOOO5u1nbWzVZTPaiLyrrBBliCj5iqNjeR7sqbLbekMAga7tUsqYVxrwch5u68vYWRoeSbUWNutBi252q5XfY12xzawQEWGkvApB66JAmQ/s1600/465.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615117911681144434" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtfH7Nr1PvZ5MRqWiTDFBKjKAJvXfmx2G0lOOO5u1nbWzVZTPaiLyrrBBliCj5iqNjeR7sqbLbekMAga7tUsqYVxrwch5u68vYWRoeSbUWNutBi252q5XfY12xzawQEWGkvApB66JAmQ/s400/465.jpg" /></a> This is a picture of a dear friend we’ve made, Sa’eu, and her handsome 16-year-old son, Nelson. She is the sister-in-law of our tutor at the MTC, Papaloa Ete, and he asked us to look her up when we got to the Saipipi area where they lived, and where he was born. We’ve had some good visits with her and have been instrumental in helping her to make connections with her two older daughters, who live with Papaloa and his family in Utah. We contacted Papaloa and asked if it would be possible to get pictures of the grown-up girls sent to us by email, which he did. We were then able to have copies made and put into a little booklet for Sa’eu to keep. She had not seen them for several years and was delighted to see them all grown up. We were also able to take pictures of Sa’eu and Nelson and their Saipipi family and sent them along by email to the sisters in Utah. I won’t go into her sad story now except to say that they were all separated by a divorce, and Sa’eu was left alone in Samoa with Nelson. Then her story gets even more tragic.<br /><br />We received an email from Jennifer, Papaloa’s wife in Utah, telling us that Nelson had been killed in an accident, where he had fallen out of a coconut tree, which he had climbed up to collect coconuts for his family. We were just heartsick when we heard about it, and made an immediate trip up to Saipipi to see Sa’eu. Unfortunately, she was not there when we arrived, but we spoke with her brother, the Bishop, who told us more about it. We didn’t want to spend too much time hanging around on that sad day, but asked some people as we were leaving about when the funeral would be. They told us it would be the next morning at 8:00 a.m. This was the Friday before General Conference in April, so we got up early the next morning to go to the Stake Center to watch the first session at 6:00 a.m. and then slipped away toward the end so that we could make it up to the chapel in Saipipi, where we assumed the funeral would be held. As we were driving past the hospital on our way to Saipipi, we were surprised to see Sa’eu walking up the hill by herself, quite a long way from where the church was. We pulled over to greet her and give her a big hug and asked if she needed a ride somewhere. She quickly asked us to wait for her and she continued up the hill to the grocery store. We were so perplexed, wondering what she was doing down here, when the funeral was supposed to be starting right away up in Saipipi. When she came back out of the store, she got into our back seat, and as we started toward Saipipi, she asked us to stop and let her out at a small non-denominational church by the hospital. She asked us where we were going and we told her we were on our way to Nelson’s funeral. She said “Okay” and then walked toward the building. Still puzzled, we pulled over and parked and went toward that building, but didn’t see where she had gone. We noticed a funeral service going on in the church, but didn’t recognize any of the people in there. Another friend of ours from another ward saw us and asked which funeral we were there for. We told her Nelson’s and she informed us it would be next after this one was completed. I won’t go into nearly as much detail as I did for the family, other than to tell you what an incredible experience it was for us to participate in that funeral that day. The Samoans pay great homage to their dead relatives and the funeral is very much a part of that. We’d been to part of one other funeral earlier, of the uncle of a friend, but weren’t able to participate the whole time because of other obligations.<br /><br />As the other funeral before Nelson’s finished up, we noticed that everyone came out and loaded onto a bus that was waiting in front of the church and then lined up with other cars behind the pickup truck that was carrying the casket and the pallbearers from that first funeral. As they all pulled away, another van pulled up to the church and parked there and another busload of people, who had been waiting out on the road, pulled in and they all went into the church building. We recognized several people in that group and knew now that the first part of Nelson’s funeral would be held here. We were going by the seat of our pants at this point and just followed everybody else into the little church. Nelson’s pallbearers were members of the boy scouts from his ward, all dressed in their uniforms. After the group was seated inside, the casket was carried in by the pallbearers and placed on a table up front, where the scouts stood guard around it for the whole service. There was a lot of singing by the congregation from out of the hymn book and a talk given by the Bishop, his uncle. I had asked someone if it was appropriate to take pictures, because I wanted to be able to send some to his family back in Utah, who could not be there. It was told it was okay, and I tried to be unobtrusive. Since we were the only palagis there at the funeral I was afraid people would think we were just tourists being irreverent by taking advantage of a family’s grief just to get some pictures. I argued with myself about it, but decided that it was more important for his sisters back in Utah, as well as his father who lives in Salt Lake, I believe, to be able to participate in some way in Nelson’s final services. I took many pictures that day, but will only post a few in order to show you how the Samoans pay tribute to their loved ones who’ve died. It was all quite heart-wrenching, but beautiful to see all the preparation that had taken place to honor Nelson. I hope his family will forgive me if I share some of this with my family back home, because it meant so much for us to be a part of it.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH81FxAhqlexgNiDbrxijux9noARDY7VKh-U6UfoUBdF5sx4U_HmDApJTw_UgL0Ic0K5urWwUiXqaiC0xNHPu5msNgeLk7otteJ64PjQr8z5CBFftpUXJdcZxst_Bufq-gufzvUVcflw/s1600/468.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615117879597465490" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH81FxAhqlexgNiDbrxijux9noARDY7VKh-U6UfoUBdF5sx4U_HmDApJTw_UgL0Ic0K5urWwUiXqaiC0xNHPu5msNgeLk7otteJ64PjQr8z5CBFftpUXJdcZxst_Bufq-gufzvUVcflw/s400/468.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcMYAmmw_7PS9ioqJa1J4Nh3jFzgv7TiGyAZ__DDco-KXXtqJ2SxCue1TLzyxyaUJHmoWsIfBbH2x7EgDXvtJpBV4S2LMTZ3YsBip8t1ySxa0PuAt5wEpikHeFIro5MJf0eAGUrPLT7Q/s1600/471.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615117876228185618" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcMYAmmw_7PS9ioqJa1J4Nh3jFzgv7TiGyAZ__DDco-KXXtqJ2SxCue1TLzyxyaUJHmoWsIfBbH2x7EgDXvtJpBV4S2LMTZ3YsBip8t1ySxa0PuAt5wEpikHeFIro5MJf0eAGUrPLT7Q/s400/471.jpg" /></a> These two pictures were some of the ones I was able to take discreetly inside the little church, where the casket sat up front surrounded by the scout honor guard, and the Bishop giving his talk.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0TgcOmS5vGJzcEgNknFQLvHvN59Xm86KhiLXnrxeSue_7FRx-eJAl4HRY4h4y7Oqz98_WnGNvBWj8nkHaQpcpmFBFIuyZ2VzlE29IdfgtY20SlS_CLRMKCg4JT9ovtlxaL4ysXg-_Gw/s1600/477.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615117496284379186" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0TgcOmS5vGJzcEgNknFQLvHvN59Xm86KhiLXnrxeSue_7FRx-eJAl4HRY4h4y7Oqz98_WnGNvBWj8nkHaQpcpmFBFIuyZ2VzlE29IdfgtY20SlS_CLRMKCg4JT9ovtlxaL4ysXg-_Gw/s400/477.jpg" /></a> After that service, the casket was carried out and placed into the back of the awaiting van, along with the pallbearers. The rest of the people left and went out to get back on the bus that had brought them there. Notice how all are wearing black and white, a big part of the custom, which I’d had no idea about and showed up in a colored blouse. John was in his usual black and white attire, so I guess I really stood out and hoped the family would forgive my ignorance of their traditions. The van pulled out to the road and was followed by the bus and all the other cars and made their way slowly caravanning up to Saipipi. I assumed, again, that we were going to the Church, but instead, we pulled into the family compound, where there were many people waiting to welcome us, including all of Nelson’s classmates who were all lined up in their school uniforms, carrying long streamers of white and colored fabrics.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIYI27xcP4SwHdw-qvE8KWsfYMPBZb2EI_jlUztH4aCt-93DXXiDVWfMIbth8uhfcAs4hoQood1JdDCZqE-0aAejmtjUreJ2wiy4Uwv8QgZ59JElDkXAhrqOvOfPPOIokFxIuypITPow/s1600/481.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615117492420166354" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIYI27xcP4SwHdw-qvE8KWsfYMPBZb2EI_jlUztH4aCt-93DXXiDVWfMIbth8uhfcAs4hoQood1JdDCZqE-0aAejmtjUreJ2wiy4Uwv8QgZ59JElDkXAhrqOvOfPPOIokFxIuypITPow/s400/481.jpg" /></a> As the students waited for the casket to be carried into the big family fale, followed by close family members, they were an impressive sight.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgScEwPcjODKHYvIwkhvjF1CVPD2Kv8VJBjeK-DvZLOa9aMLadCf3N5e5e_NpBsieN5Olkzv5k1X45QWSC7OPwVxTUWK1BgtS_wM9JWMakBZPEr2s5C2OzBgA4pKgYIjNUyqHoGrwC8Ug/s1600/485.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 225px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615117486358424562" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgScEwPcjODKHYvIwkhvjF1CVPD2Kv8VJBjeK-DvZLOa9aMLadCf3N5e5e_NpBsieN5Olkzv5k1X45QWSC7OPwVxTUWK1BgtS_wM9JWMakBZPEr2s5C2OzBgA4pKgYIjNUyqHoGrwC8Ug/s400/485.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvZgtKCzwmV3qWttGg6wz1iJAxyYn14ZE09J0E-btgk-HqZgkmPEwCADR3Wg2mI9tAh5-cip2Mm5ImPh1rSTQExiHhHr08MBvWzGkHhAdrmheDaeLMreJidUFHfuNRnQjQIJkroPTAag/s1600/487.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 225px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615117481798909858" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvZgtKCzwmV3qWttGg6wz1iJAxyYn14ZE09J0E-btgk-HqZgkmPEwCADR3Wg2mI9tAh5-cip2Mm5ImPh1rSTQExiHhHr08MBvWzGkHhAdrmheDaeLMreJidUFHfuNRnQjQIJkroPTAag/s400/487.jpg" /></a> Once the family was settled inside, the music started and the students began to march carrying all the funeral flowers and their colored banners on into the fale, where they reverently walked past Nelson’s casket and draped the fabrics all around it, almost like a protective nest. It was very touching.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu230DamgkXB7Eg1cc9fo0lvCR8dYfzlGn5lD6U4myP1occ0GA89OEB_65d3vGMqmLHgx8VkUF5f1GeYxHoh4xHbxVhjNSD-h3t2ZmIjQl5DrwdQGOPLUgZX13MnOyDDJceupX3k-qvg/s1600/491.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615117475915428786" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu230DamgkXB7Eg1cc9fo0lvCR8dYfzlGn5lD6U4myP1occ0GA89OEB_65d3vGMqmLHgx8VkUF5f1GeYxHoh4xHbxVhjNSD-h3t2ZmIjQl5DrwdQGOPLUgZX13MnOyDDJceupX3k-qvg/s400/491.jpg" /></a> Then they took their places on the floor of the fale, facing the family, as they prepared to pay their tributes to Nelson with wonderful music and speeches from teachers and classmates. We were so kindly invited to join the family inside the fale around the casket and felt privileged to be there. Most of the ward members and villagers were standing outside the fale and watching the school kids perform their wonderful music. <br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt4VUf2tsvQTmifXpf2PPxUftxxqUzITKqfcS75IWZEO5qtDv3B2iNvgIN84uBRvBAW2c8Jl6I08O5T9X9nKYgYzdm8d7bVrl29MQerppGD987hA_oW7OFV03kAD7n66MuPOxfUumMpA/s1600/497.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615117043311154578" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt4VUf2tsvQTmifXpf2PPxUftxxqUzITKqfcS75IWZEO5qtDv3B2iNvgIN84uBRvBAW2c8Jl6I08O5T9X9nKYgYzdm8d7bVrl29MQerppGD987hA_oW7OFV03kAD7n66MuPOxfUumMpA/s400/497.jpg" /></a> There were a couple of small groups of friends who performed some musical numbers accompanied by a young man with a guitar. After this lengthy program, the faculty and students stood up, filed past the casket one last time and then marched outside and made their way back to the school.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGa4_OJwYg5QpwL56rkzCmmbfqhFAw2YUb6-DbHhzurjntUVc00PlnL8VsuYiU1QPDm3ODy8OH0t-vF-_unfPqFqhzQumG_r6kk0t17_JmH_6bnZDV85ici0BajLFqkZfZWQI8yCoQtA/s1600/502.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 225px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615117033163200690" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGa4_OJwYg5QpwL56rkzCmmbfqhFAw2YUb6-DbHhzurjntUVc00PlnL8VsuYiU1QPDm3ODy8OH0t-vF-_unfPqFqhzQumG_r6kk0t17_JmH_6bnZDV85ici0BajLFqkZfZWQI8yCoQtA/s400/502.jpg" /></a> As soon as the school kids were gone, the youth from Saipii Ward filed in, carrying more long banners of fabric which they also draped around the casket and then took their places with all the ward members and villagers who had followed them into the fale, and they all sat down facing the family, as the students had done before them. Now it was the village and Ward’s turn to pay tribute to Nelson.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbV_kxCY4MIy6E9u7eoBd0IHUt1eiio_CwOoBOFEmR3X706r7ZKU8_UtrpnjWSGYVdVagViQE477Q5AYpTm3LpMHOqP1Tuxc05wZcZD_aTqxnO02YtYCnYAW9Wx4zQSC5ksAroEf-aGQ/s1600/510.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615117036668974034" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbV_kxCY4MIy6E9u7eoBd0IHUt1eiio_CwOoBOFEmR3X706r7ZKU8_UtrpnjWSGYVdVagViQE477Q5AYpTm3LpMHOqP1Tuxc05wZcZD_aTqxnO02YtYCnYAW9Wx4zQSC5ksAroEf-aGQ/s400/510.jpg" /></a> The youth group started with a special musical number, which was followed by more music by the Ward Choir and congregation, mixed in with speeches from ward members and family, including Sa’eu herself. I was so impressed with how brave she was. The whole service was so up beat and much was said about what a good student, athlete, priesthood holder and seminary student Nelson was and of course much comfort was drawn from referrals to gospel principles and the hope for the reuniting of families after this life. Because I could not understand the speeches, John shared their content with me later as he wrote in the letter to the Family in Utah and shared what was said. A lot of the music was in English, which helped me participate a little. Once the program was over, the lid was taken off the casket one last time, and close family members came close for a kiss or a touch.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYWk9Z3ckxzFvqc2WImcDpC1_SCg1-eH_AFW05U4A3zy0dkQvWOYjFv5q6g7QXpeWnU7Li-WynqciHCCNji2MHgxcBjY0zXa1S95u7s9J9kzbVScKFODX5mn6OuV3GgkTXYND2ywC55w/s1600/513.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615117026846319570" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYWk9Z3ckxzFvqc2WImcDpC1_SCg1-eH_AFW05U4A3zy0dkQvWOYjFv5q6g7QXpeWnU7Li-WynqciHCCNji2MHgxcBjY0zXa1S95u7s9J9kzbVScKFODX5mn6OuV3GgkTXYND2ywC55w/s400/513.jpg" /></a> This last view of Nelson in his casket, looking so peaceful, with Sa’eu sitting next to him the whole time, will be an image I’ll never forget. My heart just ached for her and still does.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_YnHlK4oFz1gUSPDDxL8dPVj23-j_FlD7r4NXgSNBVKtwRruKyPpr0TlziQFwHBiSJZfV6VgTs5a_jBhRpoqjYryh1e2kZp2XE0AZwI-Pd2wxqaQTL1QleWFSWAdj1ZPpWjvRCut9eQ/s1600/515.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615117022398432098" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_YnHlK4oFz1gUSPDDxL8dPVj23-j_FlD7r4NXgSNBVKtwRruKyPpr0TlziQFwHBiSJZfV6VgTs5a_jBhRpoqjYryh1e2kZp2XE0AZwI-Pd2wxqaQTL1QleWFSWAdj1ZPpWjvRCut9eQ/s400/515.jpg" /></a> The last picture we took before we left was of the whole family and ward gathered around the casket to get one last look at Nelson’s sweet face and give comfort to Sa’eu and each other. They stayed huddled that way for quite a while. Since we had been at the funeral for four hours at that point, we had other duties we needed to get away for and it seemed like a good time to leave the family to themselves. I’m sure they had a big family and village feast, as is the custom, and there was some sort of burial service at some point. As sad as the experience was, we felt fortunate to have been included and to witness the poignant tradition of these humble, Godfearing people.<br /><br />After the conference weekend was over, we were able to download all the pictures from the funeral onto our laptop and then sent copies of them all, along with a detailed description of the services by email to the families in Utah. John was able to repeat what had been said in Samoan for them to share as well. The kind and heartwarming responses we received from them all a few days later were worth all the worry I had over being an obnoxious tourist snapping pictures at an inappropriate time. Also, you know me, when I start describing something, I don’t leave anything out, as you’ve noticed in my lengthy blogs, but they were so appreciative of all the details and said it almost felt like they had been there and certainly helped them to obtain some closure from so far away. We were so happy to be able to serve them in this way at such a difficult time. We were also able to have copies of the same photos printed and put in a little booklet for Sa’eu that we gave her a few days before mother’s day. It was a joy to know how much it meant to her. We had given her a copy earlier of the same picture of her and Nelson that I showed at the beginning of this section. She asked if we could possibly get her another copy when we gave her the funeral pictures. We found it that very day and had it enlarged to 8 X 10 and printed, and placed it in a nice frame for her to have. She is still being so brave. She’s gone back to work and we see her in town a lot more that we did before. We assume that being home alone without her son to watch and fuss over is still extremely difficult for her, as it would be for any of us in the same circumstances.<br /><br />Sorry for that little bit of sadness, but we so wanted to save the memories of our experience and share it with our own family. We actually have some other happy things going on here too, but we’ll catch up a little later. I’m certain this is probably a good place to quit for now. I actually feel drained and you could use some relief as well. I think I’ll take a little breather before continuing on with the next blog segment. We hope your lives are all going well and that your families are doing the same.<br /><br />Here’s wishing you all our love until next time from Mom and Dad, John and Karen<br /></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>John & Karen Kroghhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08097598934218597824noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7660554378340018126.post-86488740360776261622011-05-03T12:14:00.000-07:002011-05-03T12:25:14.512-07:00Blog #16 – April 19, 2011<br /><br />The next day, Sunday, we started off early again by going to church at the L.M.S. Church, where our good friend Reverend Esera was preaching and we wanted Benj and Lori to see their beautiful church and hear the great singing from the two different choirs that always perform there. After the service we went racing back to the McKay 2nd Ward to attend a missionary farewell of our young friend Etuale, who was leaving that week for the MTC in New Zealand, and then on to Australia for his mission. He had asked us both to speak, which put a little pressure on for such a busy day, but he’s been a good friend and we really needed to be there. After that, we went back over to Esera and Tamara’s home, where we had a wonderful to’ona’i which means Sunday Dinner. It’s really more of a brunch because we ate about 11:00 a.m.. As usual, there was too much food, but we’ve learned to just eat what we want and then push our plates away, meaning that we’re finished. It was quite a feast, similar to the one we’d had the night before at the Umu demonstration. Lori and I passed again on the octopus and a couple of other dishes, but I think John and Benj ate just a little of everything. We had such a nice visit with the Eseras, as always because they both speak such good English, and they were so excited to meet Benj and Lori. <br /><br />Somehow or other we got on the subject of Benj singing for the people at the hotel the night before, so Tamara asked if he’d sing for them. There was no way to give him a pitch for his song, so he started off a little low and even he had a hard time hitting the lowest bass notes, but it was well done and the Esera’s really enjoyed it. Benj is so brave to just break into song in front of a large group, or even a small intimate one. I guess he’s had enough experience doing it that he doesn’t even think about it any more. It made me think of the time that I took him as a young man of 19 out to the MTC before his mission. John was not able to get away for that trip, but it was an enjoyable, as well as heart wrenching, experience for me. The night before I took him to the MTC, we were having a special dinner out at a restaurant with Kim and Dave (Gumby), and a little old lady came out of a private dining room and asked if there was anyone in the place who could come and sing Happy Birthday to an old gentleman in her party. Gumby promptly volunteered Benj, who reluctantly got up and went on in to sin g. He was gone longer than we had expected. When he came out, he was just shaking his head and said “I can’t believe I just did that.” He was so quiet and shy at that age that is was a new experience for him to just sing for a group of strangers on the spur of the moment. Apparently, when he had finished singing happy birthday, they asked him some questions about himself and he told them he was on the way to the MTC before his mission to Argentina. Somehow it came out that he had sung a song at his own missionary farewell the week before, so they insisted he sing that for them as well. It was great preparation for his next adventure as a missionary.<br /><br />That Sunday was another unusual and very busy day for all of us and it wasn’t over yet. After we left the Esera’s, we went on up to Vaiola, where we had made arrangements to use the internet and skype, so that Benj and Lori could call and talk to their kids back in Utah. Lori’s parents were there taking care of their kids and they had a great visit with all of them. Benj had been gone for well over a week by then and they were really missing both of them. Little Sharlee was so cute, asking when they were coming home and that she missed them and wished she could just give them a hug. After the skyping session, we went back home, gathered up all our music, three keyboard pianos and headed over to the Fataloa Ward for a Reactivation fireside. I had been working with some piano students to prepare a piano duet using the primary song “Heavenly Father, are You Really there?”, using a couple beginning students, both 16 year old girls, one playing the right hand and another playing the left, each on their own keyboard, and then each playing their own melody during the duet. I thought it would be nice to have someone accompany them with the written accompaniment from the book, just to fill in around their two simple melodies. The lady in charge of the fireside suggested a woman to play and asked her if she would. She accepted, but then we found out she was not very experienced, even though she was really excited to join the group. The two girls who had worked so hard to get their little melodies right, were so frustrated, as I was myself only more patiently so I hope, because the lady couldn’t keep up with them and certainly couldn’t play with both hands. I was just panicking because she was an inactive member that we had been working with and didn’t want to disappoint her by telling her it wouldn’t work with her playing the accompaniment. I decided to just write a simple little one-hand accompaniment for her and then ask a young man from another ward to accompany them quietly on the organ with some soft chords. I had to re-write several of the “difficult” measures for Fetaua’i, the inactive lady, as we went along and finally had her part down to where she could handle it. I thanked the girls for being so patient with her, even though I’m not sure they really were feeling that way. I set them up on three keyboards, and they were accompanied by the organist, with me conducting them, trying to keep them all together. The lady playing the third part got behind a couple of times, but I had anticipated that and wrote her part so that there was a break in some difficult places so that she could stop and start again with the others. It actually worked out quite well and made for a really nice number, stressful to me, but nice. Unfortunately, I was so concerned about our numbers and my piano student’s number, I forgot to take pictures of most of the rest of the fireside.<br /><br />The lady in charge had asked if John and I could do a number and we told her our son and his wife were coming and could join us. Being a proud mother, I also suggest that Benj sing by himself, because she was asking me for other possibilities for special numbers. John and I and Benj and Lori sang a quartet of “How Great thou art” and Ben sang “Be still my soul”. Both numbers worked out okay. The other numbers were all sung by soloists, duets and groups from the Relief Society in that ward and as usual they all did a great job.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQcalEXHpvYbJAgzhyGL3643IvNSpNLys5e4SA_AkNmXniDgWO5ZEs6jcyHEI7s84rCmZRNxkzNmSu1GlmTqcUMswbLtOug_T7ddystNWQ4YhxuFDG90WnsBycabMXqsgUlPt2SnS1JQ/s1600/446.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5602571533129494738" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQcalEXHpvYbJAgzhyGL3643IvNSpNLys5e4SA_AkNmXniDgWO5ZEs6jcyHEI7s84rCmZRNxkzNmSu1GlmTqcUMswbLtOug_T7ddystNWQ4YhxuFDG90WnsBycabMXqsgUlPt2SnS1JQ/s400/446.jpg" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqd8w4ESM9qdVSuwvu-SDtqR9UYjm08jV5cpkKFL1hwpdCFEcu6mYnl9G-07i6Ko0pY4tLERwBHiWW2QdtWRFoi2pr1SF3qaOHlE35QdZky-hUL8oh2r2K72CvUlx4A_sJhvPMVyMX1g/s1600/449.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5602571530070855762" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqd8w4ESM9qdVSuwvu-SDtqR9UYjm08jV5cpkKFL1hwpdCFEcu6mYnl9G-07i6Ko0pY4tLERwBHiWW2QdtWRFoi2pr1SF3qaOHlE35QdZky-hUL8oh2r2K72CvUlx4A_sJhvPMVyMX1g/s400/449.jpg" /></a><br />The local zone of elders were asked to do a special number and I always love hearing them sing. After the fireside, everyone congregated for refreshments and Benj and Lori had some fun visits with the elders, and of course were thinking of their own elder back in Massachusetts. It was a fun and uplifting evening and a great end to a long busy day. <br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw0DsBhGCG0UGXdxxwelopwiH6yX1inMLZwztG_SWg7kvGs0rF5WBZjK1Omy-QiVZhH9I-B0Zsa3Hfv50OmY9pcZJZafomeliQo4zWI18VO4ffZY4KqYjfJC683qTZgcLuEHLcpoS6Ig/s1600/452.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5602571523228541314" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw0DsBhGCG0UGXdxxwelopwiH6yX1inMLZwztG_SWg7kvGs0rF5WBZjK1Omy-QiVZhH9I-B0Zsa3Hfv50OmY9pcZJZafomeliQo4zWI18VO4ffZY4KqYjfJC683qTZgcLuEHLcpoS6Ig/s400/452.jpg" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmZyFnBkJc4WTKvaZvcvN3pp4Q6gQR3CGBoHoC0RLd6WkcQO8E9wg0RqMoSm9hyphenhypheniIepN1KkG92JU1vxH48Ost_Vvy-ci3RwmVBofdQ1DSmAikcxn44Fp5Jabwf6BnX7Ltyvdc5lvtNTw/s1600/453.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5602571512223014770" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmZyFnBkJc4WTKvaZvcvN3pp4Q6gQR3CGBoHoC0RLd6WkcQO8E9wg0RqMoSm9hyphenhypheniIepN1KkG92JU1vxH48Ost_Vvy-ci3RwmVBofdQ1DSmAikcxn44Fp5Jabwf6BnX7Ltyvdc5lvtNTw/s400/453.jpg" /></a><br />Early Monday morning, the guys got up very early to try fishing off a kayak owned by the hotel. I got up with them to take their pictures when they left and then went back to bed. As you can see, the ocean inside the reef is very calm in the early morning, almost like a lake. <br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8Q_rOzEL48gowOKitIdq4XCaAY0jOmfzHwhB-kImA6I8YuMaMaR-zEGHvsJ4tobVD8W0SX18T7JtzolIYZBKykrmfi1r1fyjw2iVIWYJQvCU6TXIvxXrQtLFYNGkHBdKJsoRDWxIi2w/s1600/455.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5602571368176119298" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8Q_rOzEL48gowOKitIdq4XCaAY0jOmfzHwhB-kImA6I8YuMaMaR-zEGHvsJ4tobVD8W0SX18T7JtzolIYZBKykrmfi1r1fyjw2iVIWYJQvCU6TXIvxXrQtLFYNGkHBdKJsoRDWxIi2w/s400/455.jpg" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMaiQgZF5bXEarAM4ys6hJNkSHHYjolZntQqgL54eqtrVemtNE_C-BWoS6Xm7oid7Ov9NiXYQov5l_lfCISn4c5rj8CQQQJoq93AcAOwzPpoub4bUvwlmCta4zkIWZ4CBFm7rJRWux_w/s1600/458.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5602571357338693378" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMaiQgZF5bXEarAM4ys6hJNkSHHYjolZntQqgL54eqtrVemtNE_C-BWoS6Xm7oid7Ov9NiXYQov5l_lfCISn4c5rj8CQQQJoq93AcAOwzPpoub4bUvwlmCta4zkIWZ4CBFm7rJRWux_w/s400/458.jpg" /></a><br />Once they got everything they needed into the kayak and took off, it was a long slow trip for them out to the reef where they were planning to fish. John has wanted to take me out there quite often, and we have gotten part way a couple of times, but just didn’t have time to go all the way. I was so glad he had to chance to have Benj here to go with him and paddle out just this once, because I doubt he’ll do it again. I’ll let John tell you about the fishing experiences during the week of Benj and Lori’s visit.<br /><br />JOHN – fishing<br /><br />Benj and I went out in the morning in a two-seater kayak to try our luck at fishing out on the reef. The Savaiian Hotel owner had told me that they had done some good fishing out there previously, and we took our poles, Benj with his fly rod and me with my spinning rod. The reef is way far out there at this part of the island, and we paddled for a long time to get there. Along the way we crossed some beautiful coral gardens and thought how nice it might be to snorkel there. Actually, Benj did snorkel for a few minutes on this trip, and he said he saw many fish and lots of beautiful coral. When we got out to the reef it was between tides, and there were pieces of the reef strewn along as far as we could see in both directions. It was a grayish yellow color, and it looked like a rock pile. I realized that, since many of the pieces were very large, it had to take a lot of huge waves to toss those pieces around and pile them up like that. We tried fishing along the reef, but it was very shallow on the island side while the sea side had big breakers crashing on it constantly. We went back in the kayak and paddled back to the coral gardens where Benj hooked into several fish and landed one about a foot long. It looked like a bass or a snapper, I kept moving the kayak around for him as he cast his fly out over the water. We returned back and I discovered how far out of shape my arms were because the long trip took all I had. We noticed many other good-looking fishing spots along the way, and some of them not very far out, so next time I go out I will not go so far.<br /><br />A little later in the afternoon we again tried our hand at fishing at the black sand beach. A local lady advised us to fish off the rocks. We did, but the huge waves just washed our lines in about as fast as we could cast them out. We tried fishing in the surf too, but the wave action was so strong that it almost knocked us down. We noticed many other places later on that we thought would be better along our trip around that part of the island, but we just didn’t have any more time for fishing that day.<br /><br />KAREN <br /><br />The reason they didn’t have any more time for fishing that day, is that we had scheduled, a trip up to Vaisala, our favorite snorkeling haunt, where we went snorkeling a little that afternoon, but it was just too rough at high tide. We ate a leisurely dinner in the dining room overlookin the beach and more beautiful sunsets, which Benj got pictures of, but I didn’t take my camera. After dinner, we went back to our rooms and got out a game and sat and played games on the balcony for the rest of the night. After the three very hard-pushing days we’d had before, it was nice to be a little lazy. We went to bed early, had a good sleep and got up very early to take advantage of the early morning low tide for snorkeling. I was dressed and ready, or undressed I should say in my bathing suit, when Benj came out and said that Lori was going to sleep in. I took that cue and decided to go back to bed myself. John and Benj would have a much better time if they didn’t have to wait for me to keep up with them. I went back to bed in my bathing suit, read a book and fell asleep for awhile until the guys came back. What a perfect way to spend a morning. They’d had a great time and had seen some wonderful sights and fish, etc., and Benj felt bad that he didn’t have an underwater camera with him, mostly because he was confronted with a large sting ray, with about a six foot arm span?, wing span?, fin span??,oh whatever, not many feet in front of him. He said “It was almost as if he was smiling at me” just asking me to take his picture. After the guys came back, we went up to the dining room for a leisurely breakfast and watched the clouds break up and the sun start to come out, for which we were grateful. It can get cold snorkeling on a cloudy day. Once we’d finished breakfast, we asked the management if we could stay beyond checkout time so that we could go out snorkeling again. If there are no guests expected that needed our rooms that afternoon, they are more than happy to let you stay as long as you want. It’s a funny old hotel, and not particularly glamorous, but clean, air conditioned, hot water for showers and a balcony overlooking the beach and ocean, not to mention relatively inexpensive. As Benj would tell you, the beach was just incredible there and we had it practically to ourselves, as we usually do, and the snorkeling is wonderful, especially when the sun shines. Besides making it warmer, the sun makes things under the water just sparkle and really show off their colors. We couldn’t have had a more perfect day for snorkeling that afternoon. I thought Lori would be more nervous going out where the ocean was deeper, but she said as long as she had a life jacket or belt for security, should would be fine. We had borrowed a life jacket from the hotel for her and she got along really well, as long as someone stayed close to her. I could really relate to that, from my first few snorkeling trips. Benj held her hand and moved her along quite a way, but after she got more accustomed to her snorkel, etc., she did pretty well by herself. I was really proud of her. The guys wanted to stay out longer, so Lori and I turned back and headed for shore, which seemed a lot further away as we made our way back in. When we reached the beach, we took off our snorkel gear and went over to a wonderful little area between two rows of big rocks, where there is a perfect swimming beach. The waves are not strong and the water, after several hours of sun, was almost bathtub warm. We just lolled around there until, and after, the guys came back in and then decided we’d better move on down the road to catch some of the other tourist sites along the way home before they closed.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFK3QAnQQMgIGw9ykCtC1h0H94nkk_DcdTES5LCx4kJfVxS86tiAhXNjXXCE23qZjGGVIx36dsSlRq1DAtc5Bcv9GdFAFYlgxfvSbbMe-FH0Nzg01OuIyh67aVyshkzvopCndh8anbyw/s1600/461.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5602571343779078578" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFK3QAnQQMgIGw9ykCtC1h0H94nkk_DcdTES5LCx4kJfVxS86tiAhXNjXXCE23qZjGGVIx36dsSlRq1DAtc5Bcv9GdFAFYlgxfvSbbMe-FH0Nzg01OuIyh67aVyshkzvopCndh8anbyw/s400/461.jpg" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrO9nEfj7DhRndkkZMA8BqRV7JGj0QJRXh62aRpzgZTP1E1j3g1i22kYdit1v4sxBdLgWyECplbnkiJ46bQZ4hRi2Tf1bOepuP7SZTZqtz99MVOUpNxeszjTcA0RQGdx0k0nQ8KwPjMg/s1600/462.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5602571336382466114" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrO9nEfj7DhRndkkZMA8BqRV7JGj0QJRXh62aRpzgZTP1E1j3g1i22kYdit1v4sxBdLgWyECplbnkiJ46bQZ4hRi2Tf1bOepuP7SZTZqtz99MVOUpNxeszjTcA0RQGdx0k0nQ8KwPjMg/s400/462.jpg" /></a><br />We stopped off to see and feed the large sea turtles which are kept in a large lagoon right along the seacoast. They are quite amazing to watch and always very hungry. We cut up a papaya and threw pieces out to them until they all came right up to the edge and Benj was able to feed some by hand. We moved further on down the road to the lava fields, which were left over from a huge volcanic eruption about 100 years ago, the last one recorded on Samoan. I’ve sent pictures of all this earlier, if you remember. We went out to the old church which had been literally flooded with oozing lava that broke through the big church windows and filled up the floor about 6 feet deep, and burned up the church completely except for the concrete walls. You can see where the lava flow cooled and stopped right there inside the church and along the outside of it. The rest went on toward the sea and that’s all you can see out there for miles is black lava with a few green plants and trees forcing their way up through the cracks. You can walk out over the lava fields, but it doesn’t take long to realize that you’d be baked if you stayed out on it very long, especially on a sunny day. We headed home after that and fixed a leisurely dinner at our place and went to bed early again, because the guys had a very early deep sea fishing excursion planned the next morning. I got up with them so that I could drop them off and Lori and I could have the car that day to go shopping in downtown Salelologa and at the big open market. AS usual in Samoa, time doesn’t mean a whole lot to many Samoans and we had to wait quite a while for the fishing crew to get there, over an hour—which we could have spent sleeping. I’ll let John tell you about that “great” fishing day they had.<br /><br />JOHN<br /><br />Wednesday mornimg we went out on a small motorized boat, maybe 25 feet long to do what we had been told was to be bottom fishing. The boat men, three of them, arrived an hour late. They didn’t seem to have any gear for bottom fishing. We went out beyond the reef into the open ocean searching for flocks of birds. The birds would be feeding on schools of small fish, and the larger fish like tuna and masimasi would be feeding on the small fish. We rode for a few hours before we spotted the birds. We tried several times to get the boat to the birds, but had no luck doing that. The crew had large 18” diameter hand-made reels, one on each side of the boat which they could use to quickly crank in the lines. The lines were thick, and probably capable of hauling in huge fish. We finally gave it up and went back in when they asked us if we had our poles, which we did not. We called the wives who brought us our poles so we could try bottom fishing just off a short distance from shore. Benj again tried his fly rod and I tried using pieces of fish for bait, but we caught nothing. We went back in, paid our 300 tala each and the gals picked us up. The boat crew told us that they always go out in the afternoon from about 3 till 6. We had chosen the morning time not knowing what was best. Poi, the hotel owner said he was surprised that we didn’t catch anything because those guy always have good success. Next time I will go out whenever they suggest. <br /><br />KAREN<br /><br />We had planned to get on the 4:00 p.m. ferry to go back over the Upolo that day, but found out there was no 4:00 boat and the 2:00 boat had no reservations left. We had to cancel our big trip to the Aggie Gray Hotel Fiafia (luau) show and buffet in Apia, and just went back to our place, had a long nap, greatly needed, fixed dinner and got us all packed and ready to go over to Apia the next morning.<br /><br />In Apia, we saw the usual tourist sites, and Benj and Lori were overwhelmed at the difference between that very busy, crowded city and the quiet peace of Savaii. We hit the markets, did some souvenir shopping for their kids, then went over to the Mission Home to visit and see the Pesega campus and temple grounds. We had a great lunch at our favorite Chinese restaurant, did some more sightseeing and then went back to Pesega and attended the English-Speaking session that is held every Thursday afternoon at the Temple. After leaving the temple, we drove on out toward the airport to another big Aggie Gray Hotel right on the beach and met some other senior missionaries and their guests who were flying back on the same plane as Benj and Lori. We had a wonderful dinner and visit, and then it was late and time to get everybody back to the airport for their flight back to the U.S., which left at about 1:45 a.m. It was so hard to send Benj and Lori off after the wonderful week we’d had with them, but have great memories of our time together and being able to show them some of the amazing things about Samoa and her people. I’m sure we just wore them out, because they were still suffering from some jet lag and we kept them moving most all of the time. It’s difficult to see everything in Samoan in 6 days, but we did a pretty good job of giving them a good taste of it. We look forward to any other family members or friends who want to brave the long trek down this way.<br /><br />I’m going to close down this part of the blog and hold the other things for the next time around. We have the Easter weekend coming up, which we learned last year is more like Easter week, when all the stores, internet cafes, and gas stations close down in order to celebrate Easter, which the Samoans do in a very big way. We want to get this blog segment out today, fill up our gas tank, buy groceries and anything else we think we might need until next Tuesday so that we’ll be better prepared than we realized we should have been last year.<br /><br />Love to all our family and friends and have a lovely Easter.John & Karen Kroghhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08097598934218597824noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7660554378340018126.post-78367378665087151802011-04-14T13:00:00.000-07:002011-05-03T12:25:32.080-07:00Blog #15 - March 1, 2011 <br />Hi again to all our family and friends. I wish I could be more consistent with getting this blog out more often, but the time just flies by and we have more experiences and not enough time to sit down to the laptop to get it all written down. The last 2 blogs were just so full of pictures that I had to either just leave some things out until later, or cut them up and send them to Kelly in three different emails. Even then, I didn’t get everything I had done put in those two, so I’m adding this section about tapa cloth right here so that is doesn’t get left behind for the third time. This next section was one that I cut out of another blog that was too long, but I had spent so much time on it and wanted to save it somewhere, so I kept it in my drafts for awhile. Before Christmas we told about a trip we took with the Squires up to Vaisala to go snorkeling and had a wonderful time. We came home around the island another direction, and as we were getting close to home, we told the Squires about a tapa cloth demonstration we had seen a couple of months ago, at a fale up ahead a short distance. They were leaving to go back home soo and that was their last trip to Savaii, so they asked if we’d mind arranging for them to see the demonstration. We had made a reservation before when we brought another couple, so I was glad for the chance to see it again and take photos. We stopped at the fale and asked if it would be possible to see a demonstration that day. The lady said that if we didn’t mind waiting 5 or 10 minutes while they gathered everything up, they’d be glad to oblige us. The making of tapa cloth is becoming almost a lost art, because most of the younger generation are not interested in taking so much time and trouble to create a project. There are apparently only about 3 families left on Savaii who make tapa cloth anymore and this family so far seems to be able to keep their younger generations interested. I’m just going to show these pictures and make a little comment about each one as the process goes along. I found it quite fascinating. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPxPklMUhCcGweACRlwfcWSDoRghE5QE1O1aJw5LJM1cLE6M4k-5Q3XFlvcT7aCzSg89mDkVzzcC6beSu4213Vt47FywVA2zCaSMjxroaWMVC2li1MPwdEEVqzhDVeYIrrKuEoW7gxSg/s1600/560.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595534764596622834" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPxPklMUhCcGweACRlwfcWSDoRghE5QE1O1aJw5LJM1cLE6M4k-5Q3XFlvcT7aCzSg89mDkVzzcC6beSu4213Vt47FywVA2zCaSMjxroaWMVC2li1MPwdEEVqzhDVeYIrrKuEoW7gxSg/s400/560.jpg" /></a>Cut small mulberry tree from back yard and split the bark along one line. For the larger tapa cloths, they would use a tree trunk 6 to 8 inches in diameter, but the smaller one works much quicker and better for the demonstration. <br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlvK998TCbXBZA6P7y3tN6ft1YmeyKgTglCorTcORpGvcJiKPKEJE-qqSYBVNlYku1OqMgANGM4tjaObKdX5f9gOgO9Llp9XOrdevfXFY_6gXqzXQJGW0u_pAYrfRXiRKgR3OPy1oFWQ/s1600/562.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595534762971849314" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlvK998TCbXBZA6P7y3tN6ft1YmeyKgTglCorTcORpGvcJiKPKEJE-qqSYBVNlYku1OqMgANGM4tjaObKdX5f9gOgO9Llp9XOrdevfXFY_6gXqzXQJGW0u_pAYrfRXiRKgR3OPy1oFWQ/s400/562.jpg" /></a>Separate the bark from the tree trunk. <br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmvPE0Hx0ISEzq9rEp7qneV-SdqTzIZgWNfuEJ2wrcp5x2vFUZAd79YJ6ncLBXwht1PRwtExEDK8bPpFFbUi5UVJHliD-u09Anx2uX1-E1mHyIVnZ_1rUXgJvE6mK6uS0wK_ZV3ksLnw/s1600/567.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595534656618644162" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmvPE0Hx0ISEzq9rEp7qneV-SdqTzIZgWNfuEJ2wrcp5x2vFUZAd79YJ6ncLBXwht1PRwtExEDK8bPpFFbUi5UVJHliD-u09Anx2uX1-E1mHyIVnZ_1rUXgJvE6mK6uS0wK_ZV3ksLnw/s400/567.jpg" /></a>Peel outer bark from the inner white pulp. <br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1z4gpe5cdotgUkyMLWG6Mgr2hu1jGTVFC6e5rvQSBYhVgDXKaszBPRkiFXeU0hCAhxUujFNIRFZE8QC1z-KAA0bvC3TXbvVBH9bdAdaJJrDCcXpDq4QtecS5xmYKzb8jVQTlKTHS2sA/s1600/568.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595534656995041138" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1z4gpe5cdotgUkyMLWG6Mgr2hu1jGTVFC6e5rvQSBYhVgDXKaszBPRkiFXeU0hCAhxUujFNIRFZE8QC1z-KAA0bvC3TXbvVBH9bdAdaJJrDCcXpDq4QtecS5xmYKzb8jVQTlKTHS2sA/s400/568.jpg" /></a>Place pulp strip on a wet board, then wet the pulp and scrape it to soften and flatten it. <br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT3wK_eugeBdvcc7WvFkHeLkBSG7ujDyT_AAYcBBXCFCWiFwWQhPhh-QxlxXWoYwVTOVSTGu6OVTYrWSbtC8uabQVhAvvcmvAWDAnxkBvBaPIrxdUxm2e_ZeGlytJtFps6aYN0LUN-eA/s1600/571.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595534649388375954" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT3wK_eugeBdvcc7WvFkHeLkBSG7ujDyT_AAYcBBXCFCWiFwWQhPhh-QxlxXWoYwVTOVSTGu6OVTYrWSbtC8uabQVhAvvcmvAWDAnxkBvBaPIrxdUxm2e_ZeGlytJtFps6aYN0LUN-eA/s400/571.jpg" /></a>The scraper is a small seashell, filed smooth along a serrated surface. <br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRpS7VzuM8X0SjKq84c2UOZSD5W4JbT_PcOwe5MmpaKtda94H3EIpdo1z6akb8l3NvC3PGZ6AlmEPBFaOglJZ3i7z0iRxBNVEL23y7T0LabGZVatiBG3pQcOHmqO802YWmDvrlxyRnzg/s1600/574.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595534652382412386" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRpS7VzuM8X0SjKq84c2UOZSD5W4JbT_PcOwe5MmpaKtda94H3EIpdo1z6akb8l3NvC3PGZ6AlmEPBFaOglJZ3i7z0iRxBNVEL23y7T0LabGZVatiBG3pQcOHmqO802YWmDvrlxyRnzg/s400/574.jpg" /></a>The 3-1/2” wide strip, about 5 ft long, is then folded into shorter layers. <br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA0tszOv5__uh3wOxPwXyptVe9RHaytmkuQzXv2JdaN4rGgyCLEFy97fa5BouFkNEjbnQu02YClBJI87fVnTsEKb08ewDufElFTYKuy2wrYBmBRm56KWG_jdvQwnIMD2Zp1pyTyu7Now/s1600/575.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595534647850201586" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA0tszOv5__uh3wOxPwXyptVe9RHaytmkuQzXv2JdaN4rGgyCLEFy97fa5BouFkNEjbnQu02YClBJI87fVnTsEKb08ewDufElFTYKuy2wrYBmBRm56KWG_jdvQwnIMD2Zp1pyTyu7Now/s400/575.jpg" /></a>The layers are then pounded with a heavy metal mallet on a smooth, hardwood log to flatten and spread it. <br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXmH2HnGP83Hxtu12QVSRlTiorgf8VQUAU7IyyWzGQQPilMY8jDKRw16xKykazH4ACzSJWoCbXLxwXdHOrq7hDLh4Ez2sXUMCOp9hYG6lZ4Tfo_N5SRl-_8DEESAmkZahltCGKvAZzig/s1600/580.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595534441357320514" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXmH2HnGP83Hxtu12QVSRlTiorgf8VQUAU7IyyWzGQQPilMY8jDKRw16xKykazH4ACzSJWoCbXLxwXdHOrq7hDLh4Ez2sXUMCOp9hYG6lZ4Tfo_N5SRl-_8DEESAmkZahltCGKvAZzig/s400/580.jpg" /></a>It’s continually folded into more layers and pounded wider and wider until it reaches approximately 14” wide, about four times its original width. <br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8T0n2C_L3HBlRYbuXhDs4XDw6l7YWpXiCpOrfPTmxpbOCDhV3f-AtdBZuKSkSukk8rNhs3TGMqgQSNmBbcFwBqi2eg7Dlg1sM64B_-61CxSc1T2chj2zP-6D9rmqnToZLZHG6c6RweQ/s1600/585.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595534442635973938" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8T0n2C_L3HBlRYbuXhDs4XDw6l7YWpXiCpOrfPTmxpbOCDhV3f-AtdBZuKSkSukk8rNhs3TGMqgQSNmBbcFwBqi2eg7Dlg1sM64B_-61CxSc1T2chj2zP-6D9rmqnToZLZHG6c6RweQ/s400/585.jpg" /></a>The soft, wet tapa cloth is opened up (notice the holes) and made ready to dry. <br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxIuzRowX6gJq0PV3XFBQNuflUCCHANDJeLdH-Sq6IUYrnmQuMWdkIdocZrBdhurrxQYXU6k13QDe5Lfyg84w3YehCYDzaiSck6hTm4q9ktGQYQEzBFu2OSENtY6LYEd4f2TFSeLbzGA/s1600/589.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595534433276036322" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxIuzRowX6gJq0PV3XFBQNuflUCCHANDJeLdH-Sq6IUYrnmQuMWdkIdocZrBdhurrxQYXU6k13QDe5Lfyg84w3YehCYDzaiSck6hTm4q9ktGQYQEzBFu2OSENtY6LYEd4f2TFSeLbzGA/s400/589.jpg" /></a>It’s then stretched out on a sleeping mat to dry, held in place by smooth lava rocks. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcECGOnIoJCDaY7DqPJ4r94plcyEktX0EGrVzZH0EYay6sabo7M_9ljI1gRXmF5mgXFL-nE1Olwdq7YWG8skJgsPBwbLR2lxXaxbv6RQ8_n66o5fm6ghmIzdqddeoxU_KhpAKQ03l7ow/s1600/591.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595534426302186642" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcECGOnIoJCDaY7DqPJ4r94plcyEktX0EGrVzZH0EYay6sabo7M_9ljI1gRXmF5mgXFL-nE1Olwdq7YWG8skJgsPBwbLR2lxXaxbv6RQ8_n66o5fm6ghmIzdqddeoxU_KhpAKQ03l7ow/s400/591.jpg" /></a>A piece of dried cloth (finished earlier) is laid back on the board with the carved design. <br /><div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDIdS_x47GfsIfqsbQsynAS1Ny8_Q-Iku8eR_jt4C0knvC6x_xiDPDzQzbsBG7jVAqpJZgThhDZLQ6xxFHpSWHgNBMjC4EUQ2ZtaekI_JaoBAnmOtq6foOHK1LTsy5oq-FHl4jnQScNQ/s1600/593.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595534425097510514" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDIdS_x47GfsIfqsbQsynAS1Ny8_Q-Iku8eR_jt4C0knvC6x_xiDPDzQzbsBG7jVAqpJZgThhDZLQ6xxFHpSWHgNBMjC4EUQ2ZtaekI_JaoBAnmOtq6foOHK1LTsy5oq-FHl4jnQScNQ/s400/593.jpg" /></a>The cloth is coated with Tapioca glue and pressed into the carved grooves underneath. <br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEDD82PCramY1Xel96YLeIExqSI0oYF9oJLfGCiFHY_H0LTyKmtDfh6bvYc-98gX3r_Y9eHSQS6IzlHa2-8TxYpwackjRu-mZhmN-c179U-CWDvlM5N9GMwDB_oqEZM6PPMyOffYHnbw/s1600/595.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595534259424516594" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEDD82PCramY1Xel96YLeIExqSI0oYF9oJLfGCiFHY_H0LTyKmtDfh6bvYc-98gX3r_Y9eHSQS6IzlHa2-8TxYpwackjRu-mZhmN-c179U-CWDvlM5N9GMwDB_oqEZM6PPMyOffYHnbw/s400/595.jpg" /></a> Dried pigment is finely grated onto the cloth. <br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuRgIbbfmqIgLrOvtLOrgezIlAhlx_j1_bAyikn0869ZzOyR2NujBBYjZ9rpT3KlekTeDZT43esAhKGZrJZ-kXONMAbbQGXITCKDhuenlDfpGBKq_uXlwPNtdt7VElWOqv_EawbTqZCg/s1600/597.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595534258827200434" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuRgIbbfmqIgLrOvtLOrgezIlAhlx_j1_bAyikn0869ZzOyR2NujBBYjZ9rpT3KlekTeDZT43esAhKGZrJZ-kXONMAbbQGXITCKDhuenlDfpGBKq_uXlwPNtdt7VElWOqv_EawbTqZCg/s400/597.jpg" /></a> The pigment is spread with a damp wad of tapa cloth to create the basic design on the raised areas (the holes are still visible). <br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYzFt6gWhRsZVJVe2U2lGtRknhofSMrdcuhDgonzsSuFflIHY6Z0l_2e-rPuyIszoh6BICTR4lgO_zKgdTdnlPkXdQC33JgzYJXQuQtAydYrGtR7ygAc9AVPPiNSj1dSUCPL2vorAFxg/s1600/601.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595534255876709202" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYzFt6gWhRsZVJVe2U2lGtRknhofSMrdcuhDgonzsSuFflIHY6Z0l_2e-rPuyIszoh6BICTR4lgO_zKgdTdnlPkXdQC33JgzYJXQuQtAydYrGtR7ygAc9AVPPiNSj1dSUCPL2vorAFxg/s400/601.jpg" /></a> Small pieces of tapa are cut and tapioca-glued to cover the holes. <br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXOuwRdOSfDIPF_hbtuyVfvXz1qZ8_Q371Qpz2SqnzY9bnuaYEIJI94nSOqxrM_OMoZKMsdVpaKm1wz4Z2L_nOt3SSclDxPQeFn0pm3oWvaCcVE03SAYXMC0vlGZla2j5sX6ezubOu-A/s1600/605.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595534253693755426" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXOuwRdOSfDIPF_hbtuyVfvXz1qZ8_Q371Qpz2SqnzY9bnuaYEIJI94nSOqxrM_OMoZKMsdVpaKm1wz4Z2L_nOt3SSclDxPQeFn0pm3oWvaCcVE03SAYXMC0vlGZla2j5sX6ezubOu-A/s400/605.jpg" /></a> Another dried layer of plain tapa cloth is glued over the patches and the cloth. <br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlvVEVV0YwpOstCL8x520LStfW5D_R7DVT2A1S0VbSmo-5lU5I-zIofqmQ5-8xPjNd3ekgyJUMG7phm95fn0qKaBWfwWPckMTSoTFmHMRPAGkJ5kfELGqqtTP5z-HAayK_iko-5Sl3WA/s1600/606.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595534251993698722" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlvVEVV0YwpOstCL8x520LStfW5D_R7DVT2A1S0VbSmo-5lU5I-zIofqmQ5-8xPjNd3ekgyJUMG7phm95fn0qKaBWfwWPckMTSoTFmHMRPAGkJ5kfELGqqtTP5z-HAayK_iko-5Sl3WA/s400/606.jpg" /></a> The second layer is dampened with tapioca, pressed into the design and tinted like the first layer (the holes just disappear), and then set aside to dry again. <br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixlFGE27Z62U-6Zz6m0Gul1XaFrC0J9M0sArSSb9QnAqO0dRVhIttcyamNyYRCvv-ccQWHAqHVHtgVkKnrVd82_hmpuJ2X45R3e1oxYPi-ZubYgPFn1bTL-kvApflFNddD_xVp7ZTqhA/s1600/610.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595534069972680290" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixlFGE27Z62U-6Zz6m0Gul1XaFrC0J9M0sArSSb9QnAqO0dRVhIttcyamNyYRCvv-ccQWHAqHVHtgVkKnrVd82_hmpuJ2X45R3e1oxYPi-ZubYgPFn1bTL-kvApflFNddD_xVp7ZTqhA/s400/610.jpg" /></a> The dried double layer (another one finished earlier) is laid back on the carved board. <br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3aV7oP-eUXerJXYZLSWsDxP3sONls24yCzlor84ZGLH9UdFiAirSnuHO7hqUZUMoIEsAQG89vOYPmsHwqJcfYA91ed9CyzTTGBEbq7ahzv3FGLM3StMJDNydxp7sYFf0PV1KQ825pzw/s1600/615.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595534064164256002" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3aV7oP-eUXerJXYZLSWsDxP3sONls24yCzlor84ZGLH9UdFiAirSnuHO7hqUZUMoIEsAQG89vOYPmsHwqJcfYA91ed9CyzTTGBEbq7ahzv3FGLM3StMJDNydxp7sYFf0PV1KQ825pzw/s400/615.jpg" /></a>Stains concocted from dirt and seeds and charcoal are painted on to accent the design. The “brushes” are small absorbent pods from some plant, sharpened to different sizes. <br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixKS11m7HLBNKH14Fr0fYVLd1ywnV60RYw-zmcoJFB3HrWnPNe1AUwfi8xd6yeR9hqO5vhaNdNzDVWKaVH-IGYN_t7BxVyAgitFEID0ASqIBGXiTE-vNm2a9ELmXm8J-Ao7RAhBcqz-Q/s1600/617.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595534057034791442" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixKS11m7HLBNKH14Fr0fYVLd1ywnV60RYw-zmcoJFB3HrWnPNe1AUwfi8xd6yeR9hqO5vhaNdNzDVWKaVH-IGYN_t7BxVyAgitFEID0ASqIBGXiTE-vNm2a9ELmXm8J-Ao7RAhBcqz-Q/s400/617.jpg" /></a> Elder Squire, who had done some pottery painting previously in Arizona, asked if he could help. <br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFy0xdYNo2fReTF3qFu_Nmql3_jPNvnxmekipYKqmoPut9Gw9e-K2Zsu7KjVJN3os2lC0b6JsNNS99C32rNr77MJCk5nByjVHAOiUk1zZpCc7RhbRk1lNhby8_d4a0qG7p9_A5Qa4idg/s1600/618.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595534059652103250" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFy0xdYNo2fReTF3qFu_Nmql3_jPNvnxmekipYKqmoPut9Gw9e-K2Zsu7KjVJN3os2lC0b6JsNNS99C32rNr77MJCk5nByjVHAOiUk1zZpCc7RhbRk1lNhby8_d4a0qG7p9_A5Qa4idg/s400/618.jpg" /></a> Another color is added to the design. <br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSdDVVcRQj6U_yiFqSOloRYJyEOoqX6yIxUgSi19A-MP4KlERZYLWMqUuHaafo8T-7_NPuFlNGk8J3zg0t2SktXbLKvusNLE4JwteIUEYffeq3ppZ7fzpp3QbBZ9ISqLFBFCwjXyaJaw/s1600/619.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595534053962421330" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSdDVVcRQj6U_yiFqSOloRYJyEOoqX6yIxUgSi19A-MP4KlERZYLWMqUuHaafo8T-7_NPuFlNGk8J3zg0t2SktXbLKvusNLE4JwteIUEYffeq3ppZ7fzpp3QbBZ9ISqLFBFCwjXyaJaw/s400/619.jpg" /></a> The finished tapa cloth, held by the artist, is happily purchased (still wet) by Elder Squire, and laid out on the back seat of their van to dry on the way home. Now if you have any questions about how to make your own tapa cloth, just let me know. You may have a little trouble finding the right little tree and the other tools, etc., or the time to even think about getting started, let alone doing it. I think I understand why fewer and fewer of the younger generation in Samoa are learning the technique. <br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMbGO22CIrcob_c8rQ3X1oCmqBbLznMickP4R4UB-egz9ccso7qYyapVuJL7DIHhT8HT8zJnmK77Eeihg4lj0Zz2YjixUI0lAImuDfI248jssfy3eho1DebCPx47CASZLzZGFrd7GGrQ/s1600/086.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595533591133498978" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMbGO22CIrcob_c8rQ3X1oCmqBbLznMickP4R4UB-egz9ccso7qYyapVuJL7DIHhT8HT8zJnmK77Eeihg4lj0Zz2YjixUI0lAImuDfI248jssfy3eho1DebCPx47CASZLzZGFrd7GGrQ/s400/086.jpg" /></a> This darling little girl is the daughter of the hotel owners where our house is. Her name is Adria and she’s 3 years old and a real charmer. Both her parents are half Samoan and half Palagi. She has a new baby sister named Moana, but no pictures of her yet. She’s another beauty though. <br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8iSaT66PXckYNPRmjcd_7EXZ7Xa8XNE0u_vJqBRZvGPq14HwdriSH3oGFdqpeMZV3sMGB1-y_IxFMv5WfFtewqz_P95RzK-W4FFNkZgc55zlJo_3NGLvOLUcJDycbU1OOtciG6w6qmg/s1600/207.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595533575960383906" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8iSaT66PXckYNPRmjcd_7EXZ7Xa8XNE0u_vJqBRZvGPq14HwdriSH3oGFdqpeMZV3sMGB1-y_IxFMv5WfFtewqz_P95RzK-W4FFNkZgc55zlJo_3NGLvOLUcJDycbU1OOtciG6w6qmg/s400/207.jpg" /></a> This is a picture of John and our little friend Simon. We are sponsoring him for the Shriners Hospital Outreach Clinic being held here in Samoa in April. We first met him when we were visiting his mother, who is in my piano class. John saw him out in front of the house while I was talking to his mother, Liua, and noticed his arm was a little mis-shapen and appeared to have been broken and never set. He had limited use of it and John was just sick, because he said it was probably a simple break and could have been easily mended with the proper medical help. Unfortunately, most Samoans head for their village taulasea (sort of like a witch doctor) for most injuries and illnesses and get a nice massage and maybe some herbs and hopefully will heal on their own. Many who are seriously ill finally end up at the hospital too late and end up dying there, so the Samoans think if you go to the hospital you’ll die. The government health service has tried to have seminars for the tauloseas to train them about when someone needs professional help, but most won’t come. When we heard about the Shriner’s clinic coming to Samoa, we went back to Simon’s mother with an application to get some help to repair his arm. Fortunately the clinic is working mostly with orthopedic problems, so Simon’s problem really fits the bill. His father works over in Apia and we needed to have his signature on the forms as well as his wife’s, so we tracked him down on our last trip over there and were able to get his signature. <br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_xwVUeaNcWbvZHUSc6PYDsKVGb07CW2QIzkAJBqvHN-8S8-XfRExwtOJ7LbOcukpMayvHQUrxLojhnwPsv2DIFcJJtNcRqws0ViryBGAvIVP1q-T1Yote4YhXCsjayEVYnpNd5jHWUw/s1600/210.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595533576910460850" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_xwVUeaNcWbvZHUSc6PYDsKVGb07CW2QIzkAJBqvHN-8S8-XfRExwtOJ7LbOcukpMayvHQUrxLojhnwPsv2DIFcJJtNcRqws0ViryBGAvIVP1q-T1Yote4YhXCsjayEVYnpNd5jHWUw/s400/210.jpg" /></a> <br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCQOdL_0pcT8yM_SfHYAcI5c6P3t9GX6gLC7d6rIhXik7T710gzzs1CLF8mji0p2XqRLh7kLy_O11a5d5wXUxtF3QF0amFd4dOLU8aJsmigVfyWeiXFlKDZMC68SIatPSS9J1zu26XdQ/s1600/212.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595533464241369058" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCQOdL_0pcT8yM_SfHYAcI5c6P3t9GX6gLC7d6rIhXik7T710gzzs1CLF8mji0p2XqRLh7kLy_O11a5d5wXUxtF3QF0amFd4dOLU8aJsmigVfyWeiXFlKDZMC68SIatPSS9J1zu26XdQ/s400/212.jpg" /></a> <br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis5DpMrK36HYOdVh5nNQDbdOC_flM8gnhoOJvouVHdlxLFKDpRFeWtU6M1quuSLjLjZqQMz7bbjW1XVojfl_M_ba7lgEMgpnHmAICAlhadnoot_nek8uTeeT7RtoIdiALCM61kCajm9g/s1600/270.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595533461096796434" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis5DpMrK36HYOdVh5nNQDbdOC_flM8gnhoOJvouVHdlxLFKDpRFeWtU6M1quuSLjLjZqQMz7bbjW1XVojfl_M_ba7lgEMgpnHmAICAlhadnoot_nek8uTeeT7RtoIdiALCM61kCajm9g/s400/270.jpg" /></a> We took these pictures of Simon and then took him and his mother to the hospital to get an Xray and sent all the information to the Shriner’s Hospital in Honolulu, who will do the clinic and pay all the medical expenses to have the child taken care of. Unfortunately, if he is accepted, he and his mother will have to go to Honolulu to have the surgery, and have to pay their own transportation and housing, which could limit many of the candidates. We’re going to work with the Bishop and Stake President to see if the Ward and Stake will be willing to have a special fast and donate the money to help defray expenses. Liua has family she could stay with in Honolulu, which should help some. It could take up to a year or so if he is approved, because they have to get visas and passports and raise the money for the trip. I’m afraid we’ll be gone before it happens, if it happens at all. We’re trying our best and have done all we can do so far until he’s actually seen at the clinic in April. They’ve told us that he will definitely get an appointment, because the forms and pictures we sent were all very anatomically correct in terms of the diagnosis, because of John’s anatomy and physical therapy background, which we made sure to mention on the cover letter. We intend to go to the clinic with them for their appointment. We had another experience with a broken arm when we were visiting with an inactive family a couple of months ago. John noticed that the husband seemed to be favoring his arm and it seemed swollen. He asked if he had injured it and was told that he hurt it in a rugby game the day before. John checked it out and told him he thought he ought to go have it Xrayed. He hadn’t planned to go the the doctor at all. We told him we’d be glad to take him and so he consented. The Xray showed that it was definitely broken, so they took him in and set it and put a cast on his arm. It should mend well, if he’ll take care of it. We wonder how many other people are wandering round with untreated injuries and illnesses. The interesting thing is that Samoa has socialized medicine, so the expenses for treatment are really minimal. It seems to be their superstitions that keep them away. What a shame. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>A month or so ago, we had some pretty severe Cyclone warnings (Samoa’s version of a hurricane) The warnings changed over a period of days, but it finally hit a part of the island on Saturday night. Most people living close to the ocean moved inland because the size of the waves and the wind could be pretty dangerous. We certainly felt the storm and wind, but it didn’t seem to create much of a problem down here in Lolomalava. <br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKKa9eMoKST9jBBX8dmailSkJhPiaoTGWdJJm6X7S0OQHhVoZ6Hr5i7Zbzy1viPGgzJ248wJSrEtdXgVKvv4l6Ar4wMb09hn_K6fzyn1_YYkjEGDl3zYRG7DiBQLhPKH9fhyVm8y1KQQ/s1600/221.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595533451935508850" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKKa9eMoKST9jBBX8dmailSkJhPiaoTGWdJJm6X7S0OQHhVoZ6Hr5i7Zbzy1viPGgzJ248wJSrEtdXgVKvv4l6Ar4wMb09hn_K6fzyn1_YYkjEGDl3zYRG7DiBQLhPKH9fhyVm8y1KQQ/s400/221.jpg" /></a> <br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj40Ct5ne1z_p1JOBXTDyP8cK2PWDg7ELXWq_9LxsO_Jjk29OJnI3xfeTaLF2g1cncorEql3O9h_22ZIl79YJlweqIuwCqA0jlJqrVQ6Yf0hAVF4gyhNM5Pr1qA6cDNbvUzSaj-vLGAHQ/s1600/227.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595533450315787026" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj40Ct5ne1z_p1JOBXTDyP8cK2PWDg7ELXWq_9LxsO_Jjk29OJnI3xfeTaLF2g1cncorEql3O9h_22ZIl79YJlweqIuwCqA0jlJqrVQ6Yf0hAVF4gyhNM5Pr1qA6cDNbvUzSaj-vLGAHQ/s400/227.jpg" /></a> The next morning we went on up to Puapua for church and found that there had been some damage up that way. The little old church sits about 30 feet from the sea wall and if you are in church in a rainstorm, the rain comes into the chapel until all the windows are closed. It was flooded all around the church the next morning, even though the storm was pretty well over. Waves were still washing over the seawall. It’s easy to see why a new church away from the ocean is going to be built for this ward this year. <br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjArk707pa_3lI3ktc9T4HoWfk_oLlhEIOw8G4u-xLoECraEfd7NCTNg0341WEnGr8jjs5hyphenhyphenstJQc6APvy6Ioq47Lh77WmVPDLyJUsvQZXtHPsdaiiqBK2i0sv9B1NLdTAfKWXAUBbapg/s1600/233.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595533445330860562" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjArk707pa_3lI3ktc9T4HoWfk_oLlhEIOw8G4u-xLoECraEfd7NCTNg0341WEnGr8jjs5hyphenhyphenstJQc6APvy6Ioq47Lh77WmVPDLyJUsvQZXtHPsdaiiqBK2i0sv9B1NLdTAfKWXAUBbapg/s400/233.jpg" /></a> <br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRSh7SOwEtLkh-7JNeK7U9G0GkEjyPt3EhiGLTxkVuijYjVIdclb70kvBOQpYLX6BY3EBGbWRniq0tNidiTwWiHLjpLkeR1oVxJn3TNt3U0xzfLmiR37QTAusxVGlPT0jL7Z0-2zLxwg/s1600/237.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595533222916886674" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRSh7SOwEtLkh-7JNeK7U9G0GkEjyPt3EhiGLTxkVuijYjVIdclb70kvBOQpYLX6BY3EBGbWRniq0tNidiTwWiHLjpLkeR1oVxJn3TNt3U0xzfLmiR37QTAusxVGlPT0jL7Z0-2zLxwg/s400/237.jpg" /></a> <br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh07Y8CzpjoGA4DqYql8SEu7f8nOcXG7SyiTU1e_nIqtga_NrgdJvaPPvVi1-iygG0E_1rjads3YsX78yUVPbog6aI3kQi59LXDG01fhMNO8EK_mMEH50_gu_lPpVzi-QsCVgB2xj5o0g/s1600/240.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595533216013290146" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh07Y8CzpjoGA4DqYql8SEu7f8nOcXG7SyiTU1e_nIqtga_NrgdJvaPPvVi1-iygG0E_1rjads3YsX78yUVPbog6aI3kQi59LXDG01fhMNO8EK_mMEH50_gu_lPpVzi-QsCVgB2xj5o0g/s400/240.jpg" /></a> As we drove down the road that morning we could see where the waves had washed a lot of sand and debris, along with some pretty heavy lava rocks that usually line the beach. There was a lot of flooding, but most fales have concrete floors and are raised up enough to keep the water out. Notice how the waves had undercut the beach and washed away the dirt and sand from under the palm trees lining the beach. Several of them were tipped right over and others don’t look like they’ll stand up much longer. When we drove back up there a couple of days later, most of the mess had been cleaned off the road, even though there were plenty of large pools and puddles still standing most filled with little boys who couldn’t resist sloshing around in them and running and sliding across the soggy grass. <br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju6-EH9Vp8zXrtnxV0yQeh6zShCRWcswnnHBYxRAvYt8Vk98MYNwNzPqj6qQZZyqgZnk4lFvLrd1Zh1I73bazFPitYnE_GZHPoxCwC8psbG_uQGAMBtOSUJUFnK0dRoAp4ypUJkT99Ow/s1600/246.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 299px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595533213282481698" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju6-EH9Vp8zXrtnxV0yQeh6zShCRWcswnnHBYxRAvYt8Vk98MYNwNzPqj6qQZZyqgZnk4lFvLrd1Zh1I73bazFPitYnE_GZHPoxCwC8psbG_uQGAMBtOSUJUFnK0dRoAp4ypUJkT99Ow/s400/246.jpg" /></a> <br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitZ1XgkWFbDpvFV_i6kfniFc3Eomg1a9YVClmb7K_cShKrT83qm1zy39hdXUVR1czTTiL4UvOceaxTjHJKL9-VZB4Ilaf1Szu9jQxwNPngJbHXaag65p0MqHw_SDxYIKCQsWIZX9Sv0g/s1600/250.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595533214267473858" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitZ1XgkWFbDpvFV_i6kfniFc3Eomg1a9YVClmb7K_cShKrT83qm1zy39hdXUVR1czTTiL4UvOceaxTjHJKL9-VZB4Ilaf1Szu9jQxwNPngJbHXaag65p0MqHw_SDxYIKCQsWIZX9Sv0g/s400/250.jpg" /></a> <br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7Z0WxIPRvCF4iDCL-tUcTibP0FZXOfs3tA4D50MtuymrcYAHM8sAGyg59CC2o-L0lCw4EEr0hjr1ieDLDBRUpLUxJKoaEOwadX44Sy3SYQLiByU3C7OUb6NRyXSVYlF6IxRSsWZUDhw/s1600/252.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595533209405604226" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7Z0WxIPRvCF4iDCL-tUcTibP0FZXOfs3tA4D50MtuymrcYAHM8sAGyg59CC2o-L0lCw4EEr0hjr1ieDLDBRUpLUxJKoaEOwadX44Sy3SYQLiByU3C7OUb6NRyXSVYlF6IxRSsWZUDhw/s400/252.jpg" /></a> One of the many service projects that the missionaries have gotten involved in this year has been providing materials and labor to paint several weather-worn old primary school buildings, inside and outside. As you can see, the usual missionary white shirt and tie are the dress code set up by the mission president, who promised that if they got paint on them, he’d buy them new ones. I doubt that any of them have taken him up on that promise, because from the look of these shirts and ties, this was not the first painting project where they were worn. This was our first painting experience on the mission, so the clothes we wore that now have paint on them will be set aside for next time, just as I’m sure the elders have done. The one concession the mission president made was to provide white plastic painting pants, which didn’t have very good elastic at the waist, as evidenced by the photos of the “missionary mooning” whenever one would stoop down to show his black slacks (gratefully) underneath. When some elders saw me taking pictures of a couple of others painting by the windows, they all wanted to get in the picture. This third photo was a very candid one, as you can see. <br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQBaC-q4rdIka5n4dEMiJV_vpC8fPAXTomc7rfiuKgkmdEcK5Eit_0Ofs6b7ywkNjln4Rb_v3yR5_jetbzW7oeG5l7nyLk71TxFMZrNM4EKViM7_s9Zp3xEXpFoxQsh-T2ORyW5__45Q/s1600/255.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595533036254115170" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQBaC-q4rdIka5n4dEMiJV_vpC8fPAXTomc7rfiuKgkmdEcK5Eit_0Ofs6b7ywkNjln4Rb_v3yR5_jetbzW7oeG5l7nyLk71TxFMZrNM4EKViM7_s9Zp3xEXpFoxQsh-T2ORyW5__45Q/s400/255.jpg" /></a> <br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitwJwZOsKuYMSCa2Z7O_cnkThtZqR4P-7k5Hcap1ieSy6t4bXfmy9M4GReuWSO74yII_GkeVBmXsqMOPAEtliuvMx-nTICLDNIakSoRhHBJlrxDuFJmqKTwxeC4B-AT1Wrv38yl5SYKg/s1600/258.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595533034474535106" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitwJwZOsKuYMSCa2Z7O_cnkThtZqR4P-7k5Hcap1ieSy6t4bXfmy9M4GReuWSO74yII_GkeVBmXsqMOPAEtliuvMx-nTICLDNIakSoRhHBJlrxDuFJmqKTwxeC4B-AT1Wrv38yl5SYKg/s400/258.jpg" /></a> <br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_W083NEZF8v6Zyk43fqbE3aAUrOrYSK0EMt-G5PkUeE_AQBUTswKKbrPk2Yk0nCL7heRAcszqOTy_soF90uKvxJeszTsELJYbuelt311FPR2P5fItywyH1GfvIzWChJByiEFgpi-IjA/s1600/260.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 299px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595533032528219394" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_W083NEZF8v6Zyk43fqbE3aAUrOrYSK0EMt-G5PkUeE_AQBUTswKKbrPk2Yk0nCL7heRAcszqOTy_soF90uKvxJeszTsELJYbuelt311FPR2P5fItywyH1GfvIzWChJByiEFgpi-IjA/s400/260.jpg" /></a> We had some good help from some of the parents, and some really great “help” from some of their kids, who were eating their lunch in the form of big chunks torn from a loaf of bread. They wanted to paint everything, including the benches and tables we were supposed to be standing on to reach the high walls and ceilings. I’m not sure they were even supposed to be painted, but they are now. They were so proud of themselves, that we just tried to work around them and stood on 5 gallon paint buckets instead. John helped the elders paint about 25 porch posts in front of the school. Just about the time they had them all finished and the area cleaned up around them, a huge rain storm dumped buckets of water for half an hour or so and the bottom 2 to 3 feet of each post will have to be done again on another day. A new mess to clean up was made by the bleeding posts. The one lone senior sister missionary went around touching up around the small moldings that no else wanted to paint, or weren’t wearing their glasses when they did. <br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjab9GY9v-kJzFShw9u-B3d7F7eVSkszOX_sCmVDAu-l8UIiWaS7fpqOKZ-4VrfXhlx1JNWDQn2UP7ULNXqbpEWanVwNa6AsqbMOv8sQ3GuECW7A7dgEvaTBl8VAxdA40fsrsi3F0ABNw/s1600/262.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 299px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595533026971699890" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjab9GY9v-kJzFShw9u-B3d7F7eVSkszOX_sCmVDAu-l8UIiWaS7fpqOKZ-4VrfXhlx1JNWDQn2UP7ULNXqbpEWanVwNa6AsqbMOv8sQ3GuECW7A7dgEvaTBl8VAxdA40fsrsi3F0ABNw/s400/262.jpg" /></a> <br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLt7VTxD6PSg9CN-rJ2BvNSZ4lFaDbtzwMSSgKajpzvAy27P8FScClT8N624eETeMsD-DQ1jTdBmMeplaxWrmXxVMdF1vtLYuZRjFFNojGXsoxcbI5EVNN_BVhJr2-yOqTmZqhB2eqeA/s1600/263.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595533024122174146" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLt7VTxD6PSg9CN-rJ2BvNSZ4lFaDbtzwMSSgKajpzvAy27P8FScClT8N624eETeMsD-DQ1jTdBmMeplaxWrmXxVMdF1vtLYuZRjFFNojGXsoxcbI5EVNN_BVhJr2-yOqTmZqhB2eqeA/s400/263.jpg" /></a> <br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwolf1KgPTrAIGXrlAC281Iw7cCDB5ZSLzDE1czaNRcdLZNRfVL4zvWGvTCnrMIQV_3nfRL_MXVSYXfWXAkom_VU3hKzoBYul-OnC-ddoZX7zPUTj7iAVb_aqeiex1ZXNFM-V7YnyH-Q/s1600/266.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595532821479897074" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwolf1KgPTrAIGXrlAC281Iw7cCDB5ZSLzDE1czaNRcdLZNRfVL4zvWGvTCnrMIQV_3nfRL_MXVSYXfWXAkom_VU3hKzoBYul-OnC-ddoZX7zPUTj7iAVb_aqeiex1ZXNFM-V7YnyH-Q/s400/266.jpg" /></a> These final pictures show the elders prepping (sort of) the back of the building by brushing off the dust and flaked paint with a small paint brush, and the front and back of the building almost finished. It really did look nice when it was done, both inside and outside, if you didn’t count the rain-washed posts. The insides of the classrooms looked especially bright and cheerful after covering up the old dark tan walls and navy blue ceilings with mostly a creamy white. Other service projects have been wheelchair giveaways, large water storage tanks, new desks and chairs for some schools that had nothing but straw mats to sit on and the uneven floor to write against. The elders really enjoy these projects, especially when they get to see the happy faces of the local villagers when they first see the projects finished. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Our work visiting inactive families is a continuing process that we fit in around the service projects, piano classes, etc. We have just finished our visits in the final ward in the Savai’I Stake and feel excited about some of the successes we’ve experienced there. One of the challenges of this particular mission, is that we make the contacts with the local mission leaders, share our testimonies and invite them to church and even offer to pick them up and take them the first time. We attend that ward for a few weeks and then move on to another. After that, the ward takes over with the fellowshipping, visiting teaching and home teaching, and we are not always aware of how that’s working after we leave. It’s kind of like an emergency room doctor who deals with the immediate crisis and then sends the patient on up to a hospital ward, hoping that they will get good care once the actual emergency is over. Our son Benjamin, who is a doctor, told us once that’s why he preferred family practice over the emergency room, because of his continuous relationship with his patients. We can really relate to that. We feel great satisfaction when some of those families we’ve visited with do come to church and appear to want to change their lives. In the final week we worked in Fataloa Ward, the last ward in Savaii Stake, six of the families were in church that week. We were so excited to see them there, and now that we’ve moved on hope that the ward members will embrace them and give them the fellowship and love that will assure them of their place in our Father’s kingdom. We have to trust the wards with that responsibility, because it won’t be many months before we are gone for good. We certainly understand how the young missionaries feel when they are working with a promising investigator and are then transferred to another area, hoping the next missionaries and the ward members will carry on with their hard work. I remember wondering why the elders were transferred so often, but I think it’s all part of the plan so that the investigators have a large support group and don’t just depend on that one set of missionaries to help them progress in the gospel. That makes every member a missionary, right?? I remember in one ward here an old gentleman speaking up about the fact that it was the job of the missionaries to preach and teach and fellowship. A young palagi fulltime missionary threw his hand up abruptly and said that the missionaries were the finders, and the ward members, who also have the gospel, were then responsible for helping the investigator and new members feel a part of the ward and church family. The ward members will always be there—the missionaries will be transferred or go home, leaving their investigator and new member ‘children’ to be cared for by the local ward family. Having been ward members all our lives, who maybe haven’t done our share of fellowshipping, we can really see it from the other side as we leave our reactivated ‘children’ behind and move on. Hopefully, that will set a new pattern for us when we go home. Not that I mean to change the subject so drastically, but this picture was the next one on my list, so that’s what you get. <br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP13JI_PKz9BjRmLNajgXCgj78h4BqIlQ5BvwRJYeyq-fkBgHJmeLssRvCKEdONcQtMgu9GnEFuYenV3VIl3-OkjP4s9sC0tFfgcBXJIi3H0bGpJBmCZ_AjaW5Jt6dy27tQLayef2jcA/s1600/269.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595532820030515074" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP13JI_PKz9BjRmLNajgXCgj78h4BqIlQ5BvwRJYeyq-fkBgHJmeLssRvCKEdONcQtMgu9GnEFuYenV3VIl3-OkjP4s9sC0tFfgcBXJIi3H0bGpJBmCZ_AjaW5Jt6dy27tQLayef2jcA/s400/269.jpg" /></a> John was awakened one night by a stinging in the back of his calf, suspecting a centipede bite. He threw on the light, and sure enough there was the centipede scurrying away from the bed. He quickly grabbed some insect spray and did it in and then took its picture. Notice the size compared to standard ballpoint pen. Those bites are not fun and take a while to heal. I was bitten a few weeks before that, but I wasn’t quite aware of what it was until I got out of bed and informed John. By the time we got the lights on, we couldn’t see a sign of it, except for the bite mark on my hand. There are some great things about Samoa, and some not so great! Don’t you wish you were here? </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>One of the fun things for us about being over here on Savai’i is being able to entertain guests from the other island and from overseas and show them around. The Menascos, Sam and Amber, are a young couple who both just graduated from BYU and wanted to have an adventure before they moved on to the big new world. They had both had some classes in Samoan Language and culture after their missions, so they made arrangements after their graduation, with the Church colleges here to do some volunteer work for a few weeks. They paid their own way and the school put them up in one of the houses on campus. The last few days they were here they came over to see Savai’I so we had the opportunity to show them around for a couple of days. They enjoy snorkeling, and wanted to see the other end of the island so we suggested a Friday night and Saturday stayover up at the hotel in Vaisaula where we take off to go snorkeling once every couple of months. <br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqKrY9904BXK7tEqv6umQcBZBbbPWRkF7ro9DoHyLIg1ARPmpF0xJYbHs9aRlO6LW2wRgRPpTRr_KnvPM3u0fJAS21jtonnUrJNOWam3i94r1guQBvwY34gbL46Q8QTDVhecjT69XQ6w/s1600/288.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595532816292421026" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqKrY9904BXK7tEqv6umQcBZBbbPWRkF7ro9DoHyLIg1ARPmpF0xJYbHs9aRlO6LW2wRgRPpTRr_KnvPM3u0fJAS21jtonnUrJNOWam3i94r1guQBvwY34gbL46Q8QTDVhecjT69XQ6w/s400/288.jpg" /></a> <br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEUWJ7rgM6rHYXbwDYdDPcqc4Hgv0gInGWRsaY0QmvbrU63XkYJU3VwkVhGPYkLlS18kW6szZUMixi2MCeYy0iUXrAnCjADIsxqwep5AYEHZxNtaKuG7IQM8nXwU0w_e6Z8ijgtIMrDw/s1600/292.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 299px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595532819384181378" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEUWJ7rgM6rHYXbwDYdDPcqc4Hgv0gInGWRsaY0QmvbrU63XkYJU3VwkVhGPYkLlS18kW6szZUMixi2MCeYy0iUXrAnCjADIsxqwep5AYEHZxNtaKuG7IQM8nXwU0w_e6Z8ijgtIMrDw/s400/292.jpg" /></a> <br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Fty_kUenyofkBJXkK4KUt6TdVUVhzkQSRLTBhJrWUCahIsMWNQNLSxMvvd-NxifhvPFOP1Sp7S5kkqTlU6EtqYpOMfe0it6MDCQJDLA1JXLDLoVbUJ_6UlsgXtoowqjhX93N4EvPkA/s1600/295.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 299px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595532814962899682" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Fty_kUenyofkBJXkK4KUt6TdVUVhzkQSRLTBhJrWUCahIsMWNQNLSxMvvd-NxifhvPFOP1Sp7S5kkqTlU6EtqYpOMfe0it6MDCQJDLA1JXLDLoVbUJ_6UlsgXtoowqjhX93N4EvPkA/s400/295.jpg" /></a> <br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheUd-IBwrv8vkTodk-K_9uEa_JGP_syecGn4GBgoGYbEMIrbWNWC_tOOwstbGdE_6rt20CcgyP3l2yCE02I3YRwg2IPUNJRckPX6a4kmJbEaF2YavT_PaB5qee0Tarjyvsd5v2s4NcKQ/s1600/303.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595532149311173506" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheUd-IBwrv8vkTodk-K_9uEa_JGP_syecGn4GBgoGYbEMIrbWNWC_tOOwstbGdE_6rt20CcgyP3l2yCE02I3YRwg2IPUNJRckPX6a4kmJbEaF2YavT_PaB5qee0Tarjyvsd5v2s4NcKQ/s400/303.jpg" /></a> We had dinner Friday night on the balcony overlooking the beach. The next day after some snorkeling, we went up to the rain forest preserve and climbed the new metal tower, walked across the swinging bridge to the giant banyan tree where we continued to climb much higher to get to the top overlooking the rain forest. The stairway and platforms that you take down the tree to get to the bottom number almost 100 steps, so that is a huge tree and a beautiful view from the top. The last place we stopped was on the far western edge of Samoa where the beach is really closest to the international dateline. It’s said if you stand in that spot, you can see tomorrow, so the Menascos wanted their picture taken there. It was so fun to get to know Sam and Amber and hope we get to connect with them again sometime in the States. Probably another thing not so great in Samoa is the quality of health care. Our little hospital here at Tuisivi is pretty clean and has some good doctors and nurses, but not nearly enough of them. I think I told you earlier about a missionary who was in a few months ago and we found out he had to supply his own bedding and food, which we had to do for Elder Blazer this past month, when he ended up in the hospital for a bad infection. Because of the nursing shortage, his companion had to stay with him and sleep on the floor, just in case he needed any help during the night. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbENYR4a4QnHIhwQqrGSAi3gValO-k4dlsN-g9iu0oO543OVu3e4X6Pyl48C8GDiFvT-xvMp1duXC2VnYVqeEcuiNiAnbkOS2GYNJUJ2cM0jwLIu8RN0aJ_EOjz8fvBwa-8pLctrKNYA/s1600/304.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595532144543097506" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbENYR4a4QnHIhwQqrGSAi3gValO-k4dlsN-g9iu0oO543OVu3e4X6Pyl48C8GDiFvT-xvMp1duXC2VnYVqeEcuiNiAnbkOS2GYNJUJ2cM0jwLIu8RN0aJ_EOjz8fvBwa-8pLctrKNYA/s400/304.jpg" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE842S7VChxIM8zW7buht_WilCjrUoe9h4yPJib8ntW23ALmWQRogaUy_ugOi2Eo50aQ3inpfOYDDHU9KKDRVFg3Blqiaos4wraubALzbjklwv3H925swzOYmbRwCUkwnArRMTgetz9g/s1600/307.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595532143173066466" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE842S7VChxIM8zW7buht_WilCjrUoe9h4yPJib8ntW23ALmWQRogaUy_ugOi2Eo50aQ3inpfOYDDHU9KKDRVFg3Blqiaos4wraubALzbjklwv3H925swzOYmbRwCUkwnArRMTgetz9g/s400/307.jpg" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3AO0DUhwV1nHzyTUpdraTb8YwdXHPlj81qF7SPon7e-krPf0r1A1IjjbZUkSsVDMdMYlEsL8OCHy9kh2LRH0_kRwhGMmMomCHM4Zixih97IbOqusoYr5nIbNQ-1xvPTfEyk9jKBppgQ/s1600/310.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595532140534317202" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3AO0DUhwV1nHzyTUpdraTb8YwdXHPlj81qF7SPon7e-krPf0r1A1IjjbZUkSsVDMdMYlEsL8OCHy9kh2LRH0_kRwhGMmMomCHM4Zixih97IbOqusoYr5nIbNQ-1xvPTfEyk9jKBppgQ/s400/310.jpg" /></a> The first picture is of Elder Blazer, the patient, and his faithful companion, Elder Asa’asa, the second with Elder Krogh and the third is of the board inside the men’s ward where they list the names of the patients. Instead of jotting down Elder Blazer’s real name, they took whatever looked like a palagi name on his “Kaiser-Permanente” insurance card. I think he was called Kaiser for the duration of his stay. It was so hilarious that we had to have a picture of it and nobody that knew the truth wanted to change it on the board. It was a priceless example of the difference between people recognizing Samoan names and Palagi names. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw-sgD7CmNw8KSW2iSubfKznCcSFs1nYCl1mHWjL2AphHPj0L1iD_jU7OvYE6pi8p4bYfVPZARgaE3piUF6YxnYP4dCMq0MCUE2K3yBzUQIxEZOQLZcsGwZK8c4EwigY3RxdVvV32xXQ/s1600/314.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595532132588915026" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw-sgD7CmNw8KSW2iSubfKznCcSFs1nYCl1mHWjL2AphHPj0L1iD_jU7OvYE6pi8p4bYfVPZARgaE3piUF6YxnYP4dCMq0MCUE2K3yBzUQIxEZOQLZcsGwZK8c4EwigY3RxdVvV32xXQ/s400/314.jpg" /></a> We pulled into the parking lot at the wharf one day and found these big colorful tents set up in the next lot. They seemed so completely incongruous sitting there next to the wharf and the ocean. We've since heard from many people that they attended the circus, even some of them missing school to do so. I don't know how often they get the chance to see a circus. I don't know if it was just a Samoan circus, or it travelled all over the Pacific. Obviously, I didn't ask enough of the right questions. I did get a good picture of it though. </div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>John & Karen Kroghhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08097598934218597824noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7660554378340018126.post-53539499229134834682011-02-27T13:58:00.000-08:002011-02-27T15:04:11.983-08:00Blog # 14 – January 30, 2011<br /><br />Wow, these blog entries are getting further and further apart. We keep so busy that it’s hard to find time to just sit down and write. Actually, so much of what we’ve done lately is pretty much a repeat of what we’ve been doing for the past year, with a few exceptions. We continue moving from ward to ward visiting inactive families and hopefully helping them to be strengthened in their activity and testimonies. It’s very gratifying, and discouraging like most mission experiences, but the good experiences make the others seem minimal. Unfortunately, we don’t always learn the outcome of our visits until several weeks or months later after the Home teachers and ward members have picked up the fellowshipping after we’ve moved on. In fact, we don’t know whether their success has come from our visits or the follow-up visits of the local members. It doesn’t really matter, as long as their families are moving toward becoming an eternal family.<br /><br />Several months ago we told the story of visiting two brothers (identical twins named Liai (Lehi) and Nefai (Nephi) along with their very large families. The mothers and kids were active, but the fathers both smoked and didn’t want to give it up to go back to church. We felt so discouraged after several visits and some family home evenings with each family, that the fathers just didn’t want to change. Their bishop told us they’ve been trying to help reactivate them for years and that we should probably move on to another ward. We’ve dropped in to see them occasionally and were well received. After not seeing them for a couple of months, we drove by the house of Liai the other day and his wife was crossing the road with her children. They all waved happily and we stopped to visit. She told us with a big smile on her face that Liai had been coming to church lately for the first time in years. We were so delighted to hear it, even though I think most of the credit probably goes to the new bishop and his family who have become really close to them since we left. If we could hear that Nephi had finally made the effort to come back as well, we’d be especially delighted. They’re both great men and good friends and it would make our mission if we could accompany their families to the Temple before we leave at the end of the year.<br /><br />We’ve learned to really love these people and their unique and special culture. We’ve certainly looked forward to being back home again as well, but the longer we stay, the harder it will be to leave at the end of this year. We’re actually saying things like “Maybe we’ll want to come back and visit again in a couple of years.” We’ve made such wonderful friends and want to see them again, and the chances of many, if any, getting up to our neck of the woods are pretty remote, I’m afraid. I just can’t imagine not seeing them again.<br /><br />You’ll be glad to know that we’ve seen (and taken pictures of) virtually everything there is to see on this island, a few times over, since we have plenty of visitors from the other island who want to come over and have us show them around. So, the travelogues will be diminished quite a bit from this past year. Aren’t you glad? We are fine with the tour-guide thing because it gives us a chance to spend time with new people and get to know the missionaries from the other island better. We’ve been the only senior missionaries on this island for several months until two weeks ago, when another Senior missionary couple has finally moved into the spot up at Vaiola College, about 20 minutes from us. Hooray!!! We are so delighted to have them here and we’ve already had dinner together a couple of times. As is usually the case with the couples we meet here, we have family/friends in common with them. They are the Gouldings from Hurricane, Utah, where he was the high school principal for several years and she taught Special Ed. Before they came, we heard from our daughter Kelly that her neighbor’s aunt and uncle were coming to Samoa and it turns out they’ve landed on our very island. They are just beginning to get the feel of things around here and still have plenty to adapt to before they’re really comfortable. Sister Goulding’s feeling about the way I did a year ago at this time when we first came, and I know just how she feels and can tell her that it does get better, but I’m not sure she believes me yet. Fortunately, they will do most of their work up there in English, except their church meetings, so I think it will be easier for them. They will be working with the teachers up at the college (high school), helping any of them that do not have their bachelor’s degree or teaching certificates, to acquire those and certainly better their job and salary opportunities. It’s a free program for them, except their time after school, and many who need it take advantage of it. Those teachers pretty much all live right up there at Vaiola and so they don’t have far to go to get those extra credits. It’s a wonderful program the Church has provided for those who teach in the Church Schools all over the South Pacific.<br /><br />Also, I’m sure most of you are familiar with the Perpetual Education Fund that the Church started a few years ago for the benefit of underprivileged people who hardly have enough money to feed their families, let alone get an education that would assist them to better themselves and their living conditions. If you’re not aware of what the program does, it provides very low interest school loans to deserving people from ages 18 to 30 (some even older), who want to better their education. Once they’ve finished their schooling and are able to get better jobs, they are obligated to slowly pay the loans back into the Fund to help other students have the same opportunities (Thus… Perpetual Education Fund because is just keeps perpetuating itself.) I know that 1000’s have taken advantage of it and are now working at good-paying jobs and able to help others do the same. We’re working with one fellow right now, Ualese, who is one of my piano students, who I teach by himself, because I can’t start another class in that ward. He has wanted to play piano most of his life and just couldn’t afford to get lessons. He was so motivated and so I just added one more private lesson to my schedule and explained that I’d expect him to work toward serving the Church with what I teach him and then be willing to teach others after I’m gone. He was very excited about the chance to learn and is doing quite well. He works as a library assistant at a local college (high school), speaks good English, and is also the executive secretary to our Stake Presidency. He has a small family and has asked us to find out if there is some way for him to get some help with more education, so that he can get a better paying job. He has a pretty responsible job now, but because he has no degree, his pay is minimal. We spoke to the Senior missionaries over in Upolu who oversee the institute program at the University and also administer the Perpetual Education Fund and other grants there. When we told them about Ualese’s desire for more education and how deserving we felt he was, they informed us that he would need a special age exception, because he is 40 and the age limit is 30. They said it’s not impossible, but he’ll need some good recommendations, and then approval from the area presidency. We feel that he could certainly qualify if he could get the Stake President, who is also the principal at Vaiola College, to send a recommendation letter in his behalf; he may have a chance. He is so well organized and works so hard, and actually calls us whenever we need to confirm appointments, or he’s going to be late or unable to make the lesson. That is very unusual in this culture, and no wonder he does so well as the Stake Executive Secretary. We’re doing everything we can to assist him and hoping and praying for the best.<br /><br />Since I’ve not written on the blog for a couple of months, it doesn’t mean that we haven’t had plenty of new experiences and taken a lot of pictures. The pictures are what help me keep track of what I’ve written about. Since the seasons are all opposite from the USA, the end of the school year happens the first of December and the “summer vacation” is all of December and January. The last week of school, we had the opportunity to attend the awards and prize ceremony up at Vaiola College, where we are acquainted with many of the students because they all live in the different wards we’ve been working in. The program lasted almost four hours, and I had thought our own kids’ awards programs went long. It was long but really interesting to see how they honor their students, and teachers as well.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYJ9e_h2U1GPQKt5MuRRNkoaYFruzGPV90mIV6jHqWIcGZCkT7xivAl8av5BvCeRm4IKPN2klYBlBd05cq_mxk7fXVDi3Z9CBKo-mj66q93NVqIcp9p1cLzfJtiD-f9NiKTN60FSMb8A/s1600/799.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578501105709836418" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYJ9e_h2U1GPQKt5MuRRNkoaYFruzGPV90mIV6jHqWIcGZCkT7xivAl8av5BvCeRm4IKPN2klYBlBd05cq_mxk7fXVDi3Z9CBKo-mj66q93NVqIcp9p1cLzfJtiD-f9NiKTN60FSMb8A/s400/799.jpg" /></a><br />This first picture shows some of the faculty making presentations. Notice the candy necklaces around the neck of the speaker. The program went so long because every time a student award was announced, their family would come forward to congratulate them and present them with some candy necklaces, and also give one to several of their teachers. Each award became a new celebration with people moving all over the gym before they could go on to the next award. Once the students have several candy ropes around their necks, they will often join the celebration and give their own necklaces to others of their fellow classmates who are getting awards. By the end of the program, when they announced the Valedictorian and Salutatorian awards, those two students had so many candy ropes around their necks that you literally could not see their faces. My camera battery died before the end of the program, so that I couldn’t get pictures of those kids buried in candy necklaces.<br /><br />There were also a number of musical performances by groups of students as well as the faculty.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjScJW9z-JV_s5Pbxbf1Av_qcAPCB_EzK5BnE9yYaV6Pp8LORnx5w8u0pZMoJM6JWu9Hea34tyCxiuRPYhuaszq9ygs5mua9bytCOrQkcOMaWIyyWadig7966pttUvjrZ5hsPskflROqQ/s1600/806.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578501025537716194" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjScJW9z-JV_s5Pbxbf1Av_qcAPCB_EzK5BnE9yYaV6Pp8LORnx5w8u0pZMoJM6JWu9Hea34tyCxiuRPYhuaszq9ygs5mua9bytCOrQkcOMaWIyyWadig7966pttUvjrZ5hsPskflROqQ/s400/806.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV8OZaxd14gRBwIdVUbM5fQFMhMwHxVShSqMeCcYSxa62rSYlaXf_5BsQuiuWkchFwDtm11fgLZLstQ2Kc6CvCBFrjRhuZSeNTPmgNSVoC9JAvqQ57rpzfPDFDxIg-4jpZ8YDkRkb_eA/s1600/816.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578500956771352530" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV8OZaxd14gRBwIdVUbM5fQFMhMwHxVShSqMeCcYSxa62rSYlaXf_5BsQuiuWkchFwDtm11fgLZLstQ2Kc6CvCBFrjRhuZSeNTPmgNSVoC9JAvqQ57rpzfPDFDxIg-4jpZ8YDkRkb_eA/s400/816.jpg" /></a><br />These two pictures are of the Viaola Principal (Siakasoni (Jackson) Taleni, who is also our new Stake President) along with the vice principal, Jeannie Obley; and the other one is of one class of students performing on stage, with the faculty sitting in front of them. All Samoans are great singers and that was a major part of this program. Another interesting thing that happens when the families come up to congratulate their children and grandchildren, some of the parents and grandparents really get carried away, kind of dancing their way up to the front, putting on a little show and dancing back, hugging whoever happens to be along the way, whether they know them or not.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglsrVk3SxZrlm4vrISOs-MBQau_4eD7ODXE9ekJ0E0uLcuEWotq_NgNinq7SmHvtXS8WsFsVHqycrms4POBJ13Js-zEFGVD1U_1qpOASJsHlRIEWW-dKrG3dj9CCTQDgU-bTOC0jsmgQ/s1600/796.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578500880502353202" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglsrVk3SxZrlm4vrISOs-MBQau_4eD7ODXE9ekJ0E0uLcuEWotq_NgNinq7SmHvtXS8WsFsVHqycrms4POBJ13Js-zEFGVD1U_1qpOASJsHlRIEWW-dKrG3dj9CCTQDgU-bTOC0jsmgQ/s400/796.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpLRcZZlaIfLOr_3gY2k3stRwZVKDRSytBti_TsVa0qKdw0yW3G4zLz5E9IM9wBD2kwiZhmdw3QA0pXmczoNBNnt0UihcdyLK7GdCfvvsPa8aH5l_h-uSOo0rTalen6kfkMNPs3AQwPQ/s1600/810.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578500812352412690" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpLRcZZlaIfLOr_3gY2k3stRwZVKDRSytBti_TsVa0qKdw0yW3G4zLz5E9IM9wBD2kwiZhmdw3QA0pXmczoNBNnt0UihcdyLK7GdCfvvsPa8aH5l_h-uSOo0rTalen6kfkMNPs3AQwPQ/s400/810.jpg" /></a><br />One family, who are friends of ours that own the resort where we do a lot of snorkeling, the Martins, had a daughter that must have won more than a dozen awards, and when her family came up, the Grandma put on a real show each time. The first picture shows her doing her little jig as she comes back from putting on quite a performance up front. Her daughter, Mrs. Martin in the picture right behind her, was a little embarrassed, but very tolerant. The second picture shows the Grandma planting a kiss on the cheek of one of several unsuspecting people along the aisle on her way back to her seat. Mrs. Martin is full blood Samoan, but is married to a handsome blonde Australian. Their children are just beautiful and very smart and talented. They are not members, but their mom or dad drives a good 45 minutes or so each way to take their kids clear up to Vaiola every morning, and then do the same every afternoon. Vaiola is supposedly the best school on the island and all classes are taught in English, so people have to get on a waiting list to get their kids in school up there, because their standards are so high. Because 3 of the 4 Martin children still go to the primary school, they can’t ride the bus and their parents have to provide their transportation. As they drive around the island on the way to school everyday, the Martins pick up several other primary children and end up with a dozen or so standing in the back of their pick-up for the ride to school and back. Their truck has a fancy frame all around it where they carry their Surfboards and other equipment, so the kids just hang onto the frame and have a grand old time, rain or shine. Even though the program was long and tedious, we actually enjoyed ourselves just watching the way they honor their children, and seeing so many of the kids we worked with in our English and piano classes get awards.<br /><br />One day when the mail was being delivered to us from Upolo, there were also two auto tires (or tyres as they say here) that needed to be taken to the elders in the South Zone, where they had two completely worn out tires that needed to be replaced. We loaded up the mail and the tires and took them way around to the other side of the island, only to find out the elders had no way to mount the two new tires on the rims. So we loaded up the tires and the old rims and a couple of missionaries and transported them back the other direction quite a way to a tire shop (tyre shop) where they had the old tires removed and the new ones mounted on the rims.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFmBt76xMyu7QjIKAc40pybqcU8HnFV_NuyR7lbv95_dfvC6oYbn50mey9w78G2wlq6CZ17kHHE_qZR6P9g-9XLkcAq6CROuVac6yRMhyphenhyphenn-XZ9q1KALJGIH0CGl5nx1P2VkVuTJmhDjw/s1600/826.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578500726708953650" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFmBt76xMyu7QjIKAc40pybqcU8HnFV_NuyR7lbv95_dfvC6oYbn50mey9w78G2wlq6CZ17kHHE_qZR6P9g-9XLkcAq6CROuVac6yRMhyphenhyphenn-XZ9q1KALJGIH0CGl5nx1P2VkVuTJmhDjw/s400/826.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_x8L3odPlaS1mHASTz677jVsRbFQ3NzpMAAX82DlIHZ9UaeqmeMYtQ8Q3Q1CA5iZMiqZJuhC-Benj3wNFKe1QgXa3Jiel_QHejhDdyzQODWB4Bsz56o8fVRorKLETN_e8XogvSo6ylA/s1600/827.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578500655891294162" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_x8L3odPlaS1mHASTz677jVsRbFQ3NzpMAAX82DlIHZ9UaeqmeMYtQ8Q3Q1CA5iZMiqZJuhC-Benj3wNFKe1QgXa3Jiel_QHejhDdyzQODWB4Bsz56o8fVRorKLETN_e8XogvSo6ylA/s400/827.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdrIXFDr0As5Egzft2JNZsVhhO-Q_WDe-d6uMLL5qtgrHr4pzhPVJQSszIX7fNpIbohXRhzQeGLTgUVK0BBVHUxU-AUMbTzFyo7e7G2EGfTZnCYeyNerot3S36yQduEI7zxqABqvKfnA/s1600/828.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578500592159043010" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdrIXFDr0As5Egzft2JNZsVhhO-Q_WDe-d6uMLL5qtgrHr4pzhPVJQSszIX7fNpIbohXRhzQeGLTgUVK0BBVHUxU-AUMbTzFyo7e7G2EGfTZnCYeyNerot3S36yQduEI7zxqABqvKfnA/s400/828.jpg" /></a><br />These three pictures are of the Tyre shop, outside and inside, and the shop with the big old tyre painted as a sign out in front. After waiting for the man to replace the tires, quite efficiently I might add, we loaded us all up and took the elders and their new tires back to their place so that the tires could be put on their van. We spent the good part of a day, and plenty of gas, to get that project finalized and the elders back on the road again.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG2ZghAk8xY0p8qf08sMvxFl8l4u5INZC3s-5_2bDVbRWLvaGkUdpqndfnpG0UqrxP2f-zS1enC9_6HpsSKE4ID1b9lFqA4CsQRO_3tiotdjZJljOPuAZOKl2jpuu1mlAI7SqaAxs0DQ/s1600/831.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578500529136400962" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG2ZghAk8xY0p8qf08sMvxFl8l4u5INZC3s-5_2bDVbRWLvaGkUdpqndfnpG0UqrxP2f-zS1enC9_6HpsSKE4ID1b9lFqA4CsQRO_3tiotdjZJljOPuAZOKl2jpuu1mlAI7SqaAxs0DQ/s400/831.jpg" /></a><br />While I was waiting for the tire repair, I could see a beautiful flame tree just down the road, so I slipped away with our camera to snap a picture. These trees all blossom out just before Christmas every year, and then drop their blooms about the middle of January. During that month, however, they are truly beautiful and we see them everywhere.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXRR9BPHSAtvoW-4uwG-_agTu91r19CGsCDhi9Oj7ZNXJGdPsnC9spGE1xp_jYYbFJrPQ_0-Ur1HsCOph8gBG_nI1n-qjkKbolwNKR0GOqgkwgshyphenhyphen_OOPThIDCULkRBs1jQN7V_GtrSQ/s1600/899.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578500457094205154" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXRR9BPHSAtvoW-4uwG-_agTu91r19CGsCDhi9Oj7ZNXJGdPsnC9spGE1xp_jYYbFJrPQ_0-Ur1HsCOph8gBG_nI1n-qjkKbolwNKR0GOqgkwgshyphenhyphen_OOPThIDCULkRBs1jQN7V_GtrSQ/s400/899.jpg" /></a><br />Just a little while before Christmas, the Stake Primary had a big program, where all primary kids in the Stake performed a musical number/dance with each of their ward groups all dressed up the same, as with other Samoan programs and performances we’ve attended. I took several pictures that day, but so many of them were like others we’ve taken at other programs, I decided to just show you the one ward primary group that was all dressed in primary colors--red, yellow, & blue.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp4637fxtFaVhNTWsJxjfLmhZuTxJ7JuKYpX19QiSze1YQ6-egU-ewhgClpMcp9F8uPgL8FxdnvZJauYNDgM97k032IBRWopH6wCFLz1HhdDxSnLS5GfvdgFqxhdycGNj_nn7RVSUmAg/s1600/941.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578500392139649858" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp4637fxtFaVhNTWsJxjfLmhZuTxJ7JuKYpX19QiSze1YQ6-egU-ewhgClpMcp9F8uPgL8FxdnvZJauYNDgM97k032IBRWopH6wCFLz1HhdDxSnLS5GfvdgFqxhdycGNj_nn7RVSUmAg/s400/941.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirImjhIXIlA30rZ1hCteAQTbghOS5N6NzBv2gKewfbvrPY3MY1el7ZsUyzFZQrqYMC06kvwqvfX3yBjeylhjr_sMXGPoLuPeeiA6pFJpZETB5d8BJYgn4sLEdb-g4qpbv28GlW9b0prA/s1600/957.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578500253264045506" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirImjhIXIlA30rZ1hCteAQTbghOS5N6NzBv2gKewfbvrPY3MY1el7ZsUyzFZQrqYMC06kvwqvfX3yBjeylhjr_sMXGPoLuPeeiA6pFJpZETB5d8BJYgn4sLEdb-g4qpbv28GlW9b0prA/s400/957.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwVf0nNso1JYYES5fZ3dymXvtn0VfLg5gF_NxO61mg8UWU6o1HrVvGCF3rpBbIukMY1TZ2QZz-ThXgobWLuiPcA41tSpE7oMLZs7IYPymWnAtfO7tyq_Yc65-uzx8ZjnAMNw6dtkMoOw/s1600/959.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578500174353141138" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwVf0nNso1JYYES5fZ3dymXvtn0VfLg5gF_NxO61mg8UWU6o1HrVvGCF3rpBbIukMY1TZ2QZz-ThXgobWLuiPcA41tSpE7oMLZs7IYPymWnAtfO7tyq_Yc65-uzx8ZjnAMNw6dtkMoOw/s400/959.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_O2NHCjCJlVcFcndBI4fgL1zroUUe9TGx219hLK7-7nGtR93Om9BhP8dkRD8EcG6h78ln-FaJ1t4sJAltNKFT0b48D-QwrKjBbeyq_Vn98wp-QteYXmAd7LuZ-WCSGwNTCmf3Eqanhw/s1600/965.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578500102920416722" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_O2NHCjCJlVcFcndBI4fgL1zroUUe9TGx219hLK7-7nGtR93Om9BhP8dkRD8EcG6h78ln-FaJ1t4sJAltNKFT0b48D-QwrKjBbeyq_Vn98wp-QteYXmAd7LuZ-WCSGwNTCmf3Eqanhw/s400/965.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcWijYm24z2G7ypUZrjmfmZYPkXpVlzxDcFpZLrjJnIa6qI-pXhr_a1tJ-ZE9AgMs7KlZanotcSMu9U3tbmm8GIJ5EsJ1A5zk1Uwl8lDhj7XL_akoz7NJLzgclKC6wSr8tSsxsl764kA/s1600/978.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578500031141451010" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcWijYm24z2G7ypUZrjmfmZYPkXpVlzxDcFpZLrjJnIa6qI-pXhr_a1tJ-ZE9AgMs7KlZanotcSMu9U3tbmm8GIJ5EsJ1A5zk1Uwl8lDhj7XL_akoz7NJLzgclKC6wSr8tSsxsl764kA/s400/978.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiubfCSdYdIe1d95b4FKADgRsOkbFcQogM5tiVt9rHjUZEmb6rPflFjFvxqBzD66KxDDlyPKXDr2EgZpde6USP59bDYTDyB8OjZJDYlFZL1dajInN8CAegYkqQCfcB5D10AwomtlzPLFA/s1600/979.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578499915512994226" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiubfCSdYdIe1d95b4FKADgRsOkbFcQogM5tiVt9rHjUZEmb6rPflFjFvxqBzD66KxDDlyPKXDr2EgZpde6USP59bDYTDyB8OjZJDYlFZL1dajInN8CAegYkqQCfcB5D10AwomtlzPLFA/s400/979.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJd8hhTXRk0WA7ARyW-Anzi04I-UTWvjVidM27PzZaa-lysMFH6TZC1_OIQRWmfqKrw3-vQsWZgR_BoNUwIsN98onGap23mxlRnw_3nHLo9CTFnameqWQu2eu2iOh8s4rnD3P8NM1JCw/s1600/980.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578499804726448690" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJd8hhTXRk0WA7ARyW-Anzi04I-UTWvjVidM27PzZaa-lysMFH6TZC1_OIQRWmfqKrw3-vQsWZgR_BoNUwIsN98onGap23mxlRnw_3nHLo9CTFnameqWQu2eu2iOh8s4rnD3P8NM1JCw/s400/980.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1GHf4-6qvbBgcJUp5Kq_dkD_940K9qr0mBOus-YIbbIAERGU_8bBdZj76k-t65ztszZvDbC5A0HaL0vO5FYPDZ-r72M1irjNF0PnUCa4v-L9IjCyp-rmoBKe16ITdIjq4cSpGEOt6fA/s1600/276.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578499743726908866" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1GHf4-6qvbBgcJUp5Kq_dkD_940K9qr0mBOus-YIbbIAERGU_8bBdZj76k-t65ztszZvDbC5A0HaL0vO5FYPDZ-r72M1irjNF0PnUCa4v-L9IjCyp-rmoBKe16ITdIjq4cSpGEOt6fA/s400/276.jpg" /></a><br />While John and I were washing dishes at the sink window one day, we noticed some men working to build a new fale roof. We asked if we could take pictures periodically as they progressed over a few days. They build the roof structure on the ground first. Notice the intricate structure of the wood poles they’ve put together. After that’s completed, they gather up several big strong men, including John, to lift up the roof framework while others prop and attach the corner pillars with big long nails. (Years ago the whole thing would have been tied together with afa, which is a strong twine woven from coconut husk fibers. John says back in the old days when he was here, before hammer and nails were available to them, the old men would sit all day long weaving and braiding the fibers, because all of their construction projects were held together with that special twine.) Once the corner posts were secured with rocks in a hole in the ground, they were wedged with diagonal supports until all the other posts are added and the whole structure is held together by cross-members, where they eventually attach the floor, about 18 inches above the ground. Then they start adding the pieces of thatch to cover the roof, woven ahead of time, probably by the women, in several overlapping courses. The thatching is attached with twine from the inside to the roof framework. When the thatch is finished, it is often covered with a large piece of netting the keep the thatch from blowing away in some of the tropical storms that hit the island periodically. The top part of the roof is covered with corrugated metal to make it more waterproof, even though the thatch does a pretty good job of keeping out the rain.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLeQREmVTQOlzFOpb0bxJt1A2lTVqSJSpJMb3Gixn5qGho93aILy5wSXkCCgs_xsCh1fJfnx0jJVVKbdnJlAdYX_kkUMy7yniJGSnxw72ip5_v9DkzFwZxaSmlTgBnQN0dPQLn1mRYMw/s1600/285.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578499661464171634" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLeQREmVTQOlzFOpb0bxJt1A2lTVqSJSpJMb3Gixn5qGho93aILy5wSXkCCgs_xsCh1fJfnx0jJVVKbdnJlAdYX_kkUMy7yniJGSnxw72ip5_v9DkzFwZxaSmlTgBnQN0dPQLn1mRYMw/s400/285.jpg" /></a><br />They used to weave small mats into what works like a roman shade to keep the rain from coming in the sides. Each pull-up shade is made up of several hand-woven mats held together by a system of ropes inside that can pull them up or lower them when needed. Now, most of the newer fales just use large plastic covered canvas tarps. When you realize all the manpower, or probably womanpower, that was used to make and tie up these shades, it’s easy to understand why one big tarp would be revolutionary, even though they don’t look as picturesque.<br /><br />This little fale now serves as the house for a young couple, probably newly married, who belong to the family in the larger fale nearby. Very few newly married couples live anywhere except with one of their families in the same fale, or a smaller one within the family compound, like the one pictured above.<br /><br />About the 16th of December, we went over to Apia for a few days, when the mission had scheduled the Christmas party for all the missionaries on Savai’I and Upolu. President and Sister Halleck left later that week to go over to Tutuila (American Samoa) where they live and where there is another part of the mission. They had another party planned for the missionaries over there right before Christmas and then stayed to enjoy Christmas with their family before coming back to the mission home in Pesega. (I may have sorted out all of these names before, but just to make it clear again. Upolu is the most inhabited island, and Apia, located on Upolu, is the capital city. Pesega is a sort of suburb of Apia where the mission home, the temple and Pesega College are located on a large compound there. Savai’I, the island we live on, is the largest island but the least densely populated of all of them and we think the most beautiful. Actually, to be honest, there are some really beautiful areas over on Upolu too, once you get out of the big city). Back to the mission Christmas party.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI-oVCix91Ru_gDGBbreDlrwzB_EqM_dIIGMOCWS53YMK6J1VinQYx6cgPZortjpldUqwbGHOW6MEHQw5jhnghD7_QuVhu04GUJql-vieT4yR97QtGAYFcRoSs5mSlchbzQj-7MupIJw/s1600/987.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578499596039854002" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI-oVCix91Ru_gDGBbreDlrwzB_EqM_dIIGMOCWS53YMK6J1VinQYx6cgPZortjpldUqwbGHOW6MEHQw5jhnghD7_QuVhu04GUJql-vieT4yR97QtGAYFcRoSs5mSlchbzQj-7MupIJw/s400/987.jpg" /></a><br />This first picture is of two sister missionaries all dressed up for the Christmas party in the same outfit. A new rule has allowed the sisters to wear some color other than white blouses now, so each sister companionship showed up in twin colored outfits for the party. Sister Laulu on the left was in our area for quite a while and was the sister missionary who had to play piano in two different wards because there were no other piano players in either ward. When she was transferred, I made arrangements with the Bishops of both wards to start some piano classes to help train some new pianists and organists. Each ward now has about two people who can play in each ward, since I was able to give them all a copy of the Hymns made Easy book after they’d had several months of lessons. I’m really proud of them all, but can hardly take the credit for their playing. Three of them had played a little before, but felt the regular hymn book was too difficult for them. With a few brush-up lessons and the easy hymnbook, they are able to help out quite a bit in their respective wards. The one I’m most excited about is a little ten-year-old girl who just started from scratch with my lessons and has been so motivated that she practices in most of her free time every day, and has been playing in Sacrament meeting for several weeks now. Let’s see, where was I? Oh yes, the Christmas party. My mind does seem to wander a lot. The reason I wanted a picture of Sister Laulu is that she reminds me so much of the pictures of Sophie, Kelly’s new little daughter from Etheopia.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl6sSE1hDhwZAmMLHGKxfv6fzJj7WX5GVES0Hr4nbDkiGkIU2Qw3aEg6empTwc-WgO0PSzGKM3TQmrpCNQEv9DlkT6urbPnByDAqo8EGym2XB2zyqTgpWOce4vGRXs3obIUXxXIxvoyw/s1600/988.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578499530426327922" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl6sSE1hDhwZAmMLHGKxfv6fzJj7WX5GVES0Hr4nbDkiGkIU2Qw3aEg6empTwc-WgO0PSzGKM3TQmrpCNQEv9DlkT6urbPnByDAqo8EGym2XB2zyqTgpWOce4vGRXs3obIUXxXIxvoyw/s400/988.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh87pK7p0-Bon6wU3o6hDH7DlDZcccr4T1JVQ5W_m9V28_0vGy9H3c9RlhrMkGrw8L4jZ1G5G05O4bXZBhqZzqlWx_Ynv5dPyPDwjWeSzuCFO0llemaZ2iosRvBt1u4XhTnUwAAzKvquQ/s1600/995.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578499479618383362" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh87pK7p0-Bon6wU3o6hDH7DlDZcccr4T1JVQ5W_m9V28_0vGy9H3c9RlhrMkGrw8L4jZ1G5G05O4bXZBhqZzqlWx_Ynv5dPyPDwjWeSzuCFO0llemaZ2iosRvBt1u4XhTnUwAAzKvquQ/s400/995.jpg" /></a><br />As is typical of all Samoan wards, the Relief Societies put together a wonderful Christmas dinner buffet for us, with all kinds of Samoan and Palagi food.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJo5YkxJmigFLm7IapvtvP-Am2WI4Nk-hyCpNti34NFgvWiMZrt9ymnSCorE94pfXGN0fbAML2PTI4BzsIRQbISqjSUxQsgeLOEVr-104kVazmfuh5C3hqdigU4_103jT5bwkWQ7p95Q/s1600/996.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 299px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578499410620686818" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJo5YkxJmigFLm7IapvtvP-Am2WI4Nk-hyCpNti34NFgvWiMZrt9ymnSCorE94pfXGN0fbAML2PTI4BzsIRQbISqjSUxQsgeLOEVr-104kVazmfuh5C3hqdigU4_103jT5bwkWQ7p95Q/s400/996.jpg" /></a><br />The cultural hall was all decorated with Samoan Christmas trees, made out of palm fronds.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd9qMBxGLGqzWRFisAHvXFP4wzQCujumfzum_6CsFCiyCfHi3EgdnvIIp2IhpJtTaWTZfSNfgwpo2z_xvl7s5OXq3BeYBEH4-XF4I7BAYw65SAFowC3O7VJ2e08h3AHiONz7n1TWzPvw/s1600/997.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578499306070398530" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd9qMBxGLGqzWRFisAHvXFP4wzQCujumfzum_6CsFCiyCfHi3EgdnvIIp2IhpJtTaWTZfSNfgwpo2z_xvl7s5OXq3BeYBEH4-XF4I7BAYw65SAFowC3O7VJ2e08h3AHiONz7n1TWzPvw/s400/997.jpg" /></a><br />Sister Halleck, with the help of several other senior missionaries in Pesega put together wonderful little individual gift bags for every missionary and all the bags looked so festive piled on the tables.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC0gyD95D13OchOei_6IeUw8-dM5erVFNARu9C0YL-spXTD6DoMSpKO3B5FHiAfbc9ihRfGWR0neAI6dKo2zW_1YB3R765COpKXJkjD548n5eyMpsOmwFFGDGFVxTUlaQzRgYxFeqRLQ/s1600/001.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578499250088670210" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC0gyD95D13OchOei_6IeUw8-dM5erVFNARu9C0YL-spXTD6DoMSpKO3B5FHiAfbc9ihRfGWR0neAI6dKo2zW_1YB3R765COpKXJkjD548n5eyMpsOmwFFGDGFVxTUlaQzRgYxFeqRLQ/s400/001.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDP62zeAJ0io_miW7eFrgR0tpvt6WotmrJ33jnxAw2nx-VStlvuopdZXbTXuamB3wvVWmB-eONEoKHD_2_MAbVPQYMdzvpgzkgBASp5_GsOO1kRyHsliooS0Repox3q6Dg2ZXVN2NvHA/s1600/007.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578499204663998946" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDP62zeAJ0io_miW7eFrgR0tpvt6WotmrJ33jnxAw2nx-VStlvuopdZXbTXuamB3wvVWmB-eONEoKHD_2_MAbVPQYMdzvpgzkgBASp5_GsOO1kRyHsliooS0Repox3q6Dg2ZXVN2NvHA/s400/007.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMFC92JLSjt8UsECxG1ER9RQ0zDzOGQcLPmjSd96RjGcvpP6B0n9V5noHE0jPti683PM8xOkCciJ0IKUyzo7UeghDXJ4CRKyJcB96RZrk5zvz6IgijsPyPW_HtYnc5RhTAcU_i3Ipffw/s1600/009.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578499156908793730" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMFC92JLSjt8UsECxG1ER9RQ0zDzOGQcLPmjSd96RjGcvpP6B0n9V5noHE0jPti683PM8xOkCciJ0IKUyzo7UeghDXJ4CRKyJcB96RZrk5zvz6IgijsPyPW_HtYnc5RhTAcU_i3Ipffw/s400/009.jpg" /></a><br />Each gift bag had candy, caramel corn, and a wonderful DVD made up of pictures from all of the missionaries from all three islands, which was made up for and shown at the special Christmas program before dinner. Another amazing gift for each of us was a personalized little fold-out booklet with several personal pictures of each missionary and their zone, plus pictures of President and Sister Halleck, the Samoan Temple, the First Presidency etc. I understand that Sister Halleck spent hours and hours and way into the night for weeks to get them finished. I’m thinking there are well over 100 missionaries, plus all the senior missionaries. What an undertaking, and what a special memento for each of us from the Hallecks, who will finish up their three-year mission in June, 5 months from now.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1utsOKXG6wJhGkVqoFCFvIco_10-_s7MR_Vv_-D4CdNtkfSY8umKArXOSKAhodGiW3Ar7vyfKvLhybd5tF4KgfgOoyo_mX7NSPnclE4z3TWRgkScWWaw0UsZUQfXBH5YquiSgTu9Esg/s1600/016.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578499103756785090" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1utsOKXG6wJhGkVqoFCFvIco_10-_s7MR_Vv_-D4CdNtkfSY8umKArXOSKAhodGiW3Ar7vyfKvLhybd5tF4KgfgOoyo_mX7NSPnclE4z3TWRgkScWWaw0UsZUQfXBH5YquiSgTu9Esg/s400/016.jpg" /></a><br /> As usual, while we were in Apia, we had the opportunity to spend time with some of the other senior missionaries and several of us had dinner out at a new restaurant near the compound. Pictured from left are the Webbers, the new dentist from Provo, who was a dental student in our ward in LA over fifty years ago; the Kelly’s from Canada, and originally England, who were in the MTC with us and are responsible for keeping all the missionaries alive and well; and the Merrills who are originally from Vernal and retired to St George, who now run the mission office; and then, of course, you-know-who. Several of our good friends have recently left and gone home and will be sorely missed, but have been replaced by another group of incredible couples. We are so fortunate to be numbered among them and do wish they all lived within easy driving distance to Wallsburg so that we’d be able to get together with them more often after we all go home.<br /><br />JOHN<br /><br />The stake we’re working in consists of 12 wards. We have done visits to inactive members in 8 of them, and many of these people have come back, and are again active, attending church each Sunday. Two of the wards have no inactive members, as they are affiliated with the church school in the village of Vaiola. The Vaiola ward is made up of school teachers, administrators, and support and maintenance staff, and all of them are active members of the church. The adjacent village of Tapueleele is also all LDS and all active. The other wards are strong, with good leadership and members with strong commitments to the gospel. The one exception is the Puapua ward where a handful of very strong members struggle to keep the ward functioning. One of these is a returned missionary named Savaii (same name as the island), who is ward clerk, ward mission leader, seminary teacher, aaronic priesthood teacher, and young singles leader. He served his mission a few years ago and then went on over to American Samoa and got a job, and a girlfriend, we understand. Somehow he found out what struggles were happening in his old ward in Puapua and felt duty bound to give up another couple of years of his life to try to help the young people to take hold of the Gospel and bring some priesthood strength to that ward. In the meantime, the job and girlfriend back in Tutuila (Am. Samoa) wait until he feels he’s done all he can. He’s been back here a year working his tail off and plans to stay for the rest of this year before he tries to go back and go on with his own life. He is an inspiring young man. He is assisted by another RM who is the Elders Quorum president, the ward organist, Stake Young Adult leader, and he also teaches piano lessons using Karen’s materials and her help. Both of these young men are giving up other opportunities for work and education elsewhere while they remain and try to build up the ward. The Relief Society is strong, and they do their Visiting Teaching and other RS duties. The High Priests Group Leader is inactive. There is no home teaching program. Another man who is a former Stake Presidency member teaches the High Priests class. The bishopric members don’t attend the aaronic priesthood classes, and they go across the street to the inactive high priest group leader’s home to play pool during Mutual times. I have tried to teach the bishopric their duties, but they seem to be too steeped in old ways of doing things. I asked the bishop is he would interview the HPGL and ask if he is willing to continue or if we should release him, but the bishop said the man doesn’t come to church so he has not had an opportunity to interview him (even though the bishop plays pool in the man’s house each Mutual night). The two young missionaries assigned to that ward tell us that there hasn’t been a convert baptism in that ward since last April. We realize that if the ward isn’t functioning properly it will be hard for new members or re-activated members to be properly fellowshipped. One of the people who has come back to church is Savaii’s sister. Another young mother of one-year-old twins has come back together with her husband, so at least some progress has been made there. I talked to the Stake president about the problems, and he advised us to move on to another ward. He said the Stake leaders would take care of educating the bishopric and putting in place the proper leadership for the High Priests Group. It is a ward with great potential. They are planning on building a new chapel. The old one is right on the beach, and it is common for rain and even high winds to bring water into the building. When the recent cyclone just missed us last month we had sea water being driven up against the building during the Sunday services, and we had some water come through the windows into the chapel. This ward reminds me somewhat of the old branches of the church when I was here 53 years ago. Then there were no benches in the chapels, the women openly nursed their babies during meetings, and the small children sitting cross-legged on the floor in the front rows put their heads on the floor and slept with their legs still crossed. In Puapua ward the dogs still come in and sleep on the floor at your feet during sacrament meeting, but I haven’t seen that in any other ward here now. We want to go back to this ward toward the end of our mission to see how much improvement has been made. Hopefully it will be a lot.<br /><br />KAREN AGAIN<br /><br />Just one little note about the Puapua Ward that John just told you about. We met up with the Stake President at another meeting this week and he told us he had visited with the High Priest Group Leader who was inactive and told him that he was really needed and asked if he’d be willing to step up and help get the home teaching moving ahead in that ward. (For those who are unfamiliar with Mormon jargon, Home Teaching is a program where every family within the ward boundaries, is assigned to several different men who check up on them to make sure the family is well and has everything they need, including encouragement and assistance when they have problems, difficulties, or become less active. The home teachers and visiting teachers—the same type of organization for the women where they are visited periodically and assisted with meals, and other help when the need arises--become almost like members of those families they serve, if they’re doing their jobs right. Because we have a lay ministry, there is no way the Bishop can keep on top of all the problems and needs of all the families in the ward, so he is backed up by these men and women who take responsibility for keeping him apprised of where the needs are. Because our job as missionaries is to visit and invite members who have slowed down, or completely stopped in their activity, to come back to church and enjoy the blessings and fellowship that come with embracing and living the Gospel of Jesus Christ, we depend on the home teachers and visiting teachers to continue their encouragement of these members once we move on to another ward, just as the proscelyting missionaries depend on them and the other ward members to fellowship and strengthen the newly baptized members.) Back to the story of the High Priest Group Leader, he responded in a very positive way to the Stake President’s invitation telling him that he really didn’t realize what his responsibilities were. He told President Teleni that he’d be happy to help. We hope that’s the case and that he wasn’t just telling the Stake President what he thought he wanted to hear. The Bishop is a fairly new member, who is trying to learn his duties as well, so hopefully the Stake Presidency will help to train them all so that their ward can function as it’s meant to when everyone is doing their part. We hope to be called back to work in Puapua once the Stake has finished their training.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZuactJt6NKJvFp07gYKmHoiGjHsy_Q218uxj085oDM4l2HAcDmHoHfPXtkbjywKPkW68fE7krlCwK5aPlSYrQI7X_TbKwvbX5y-zLPUzRRSm-uQz61xRpeIHp96qaCNJY7u8Hn3DWtQ/s1600/029.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578498769020636962" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZuactJt6NKJvFp07gYKmHoiGjHsy_Q218uxj085oDM4l2HAcDmHoHfPXtkbjywKPkW68fE7krlCwK5aPlSYrQI7X_TbKwvbX5y-zLPUzRRSm-uQz61xRpeIHp96qaCNJY7u8Hn3DWtQ/s400/029.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2qD2JwbcctIuk9s4jsFGKh7RJqHEQIBm141nt8UPEjphdGz7uRlvMmnzRCCj5K1J4AeMKEBpU-YLDWkocXtFRA13229qZtivvdJlJa_fzGHw0gDzHVYQBtzJ3Yuhw48QMW4AKjllBiw/s1600/036.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 299px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578498702807553762" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2qD2JwbcctIuk9s4jsFGKh7RJqHEQIBm141nt8UPEjphdGz7uRlvMmnzRCCj5K1J4AeMKEBpU-YLDWkocXtFRA13229qZtivvdJlJa_fzGHw0gDzHVYQBtzJ3Yuhw48QMW4AKjllBiw/s400/036.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQKuj4Nrnp4cfNSvk0DjPcHwxPpk99Osoa2N2N1dqtqeYeU_NqqkeoC46nBDXvegPd1Srn4ofwWpgoix6Vpi0X8tgnoZmdI9TqSmpXaYOF_lpxrnssV-s73r4cVnO72MiHI0Adg6JZVg/s1600/052.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578498575258907058" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQKuj4Nrnp4cfNSvk0DjPcHwxPpk99Osoa2N2N1dqtqeYeU_NqqkeoC46nBDXvegPd1Srn4ofwWpgoix6Vpi0X8tgnoZmdI9TqSmpXaYOF_lpxrnssV-s73r4cVnO72MiHI0Adg6JZVg/s400/052.jpg" /></a><br />This family is one we’ve grown to love and admire so much. The daughter, Seminari, just left to go to the Provo MTC and then on to her mission in Columbus, Ohio. What a weather and culture change for her. I suggested I take some pictures of the area around her fale, so that she could show the people in Ohio where she lives. Their fale sits right across the beach road from the ocean and the beautiful picture I added to my Samoan Christmas letter was taken from inside their fale. She has been assisting me with my piano classes, speaks very good English, and will make a top notch missionary. Besides helping in two of my classes, she keeps practice keyboards at her fale and helps the people who come to practice during the week. Her neice, Leuma, pictured in the last picture, is the ten-year-old who’s already playing in church meetings and has been teaching her younger sister, Nuera--as in New Era-- to play as well. Her nephew’s name is Paionia (pioneer). Seminari lives with her widowed mother, in the bright blue dress, and her brother’s family. Her brother is the young men’s president in their ward and has been a huge help with our piano class in that ward by helping to set up tables, make copies of music and always sits through the whole class each week. I’ve really missed Seminari since she left, but she had invited another young woman, 19 year old Araisa, to join the class earlier on and then encouraged her to take over as my assistant after she left. Araisa seemed very shy at first and I wasn’t sure that she’d have the assertiveness that Seminari had, but has turned out to be an excellent help, and has now started a new class at her home because we couldn’t take any more new students into the existing class. I must get a photo of Araisa. She’s a beautiful girl and looks like an American Indian princess from out of the movies.<br /><br />The piano classes still take up most of Thursday—two ward classes and one private lesson—and another ward class on Friday afternoon. The numbers have dwindled to a manageable size, for which I am grateful and hoped would happen when we first started. Many who came the first few times thought they could just attend a few lessons and be ready to play. They found out that it takes a lot of time in class and a lot of practicing outside of class to become proficient, so they just stopped coming. The ones who are left are really motivated and several are already playing in church, priesthood, primary and at baptisms, even though that class hasn’t been completed. Very few have advanced to the point of playing everything out of the regular hymn book, but they all have copies of the Hymns Made Easy collection and do just great with that. The more they play out of that, the quicker they’ll be ready for the harder book. I could tell stories about each student, buy I’ll just relate one for right now. His name is Star, Sitalini, and he is about 16 years old and looks a lot like our grandson Isaac. When he first started coming to class, he wanted to just fiddle around and tried to play everything by ear, without really focusing on reading the music. Actually, he’s very talented that way and so he learns quickly. In class he’d want to move ahead of the lessons and the other kids and I’d often have to stop the instruction because he wouldn’t stop playing while I was talking. I think he just wanted to do it himself without being bothered by having a teacher. He finally stopped coming, which I thought was too bad because he really is talented, but I didn’t miss his disruptive behavior. After a few weeks, I waIked into an empty chapel where I heard someone playing quite well and there he was practicing hymns out of the hymnbook and not doing too bad a job. I told him how impressed I was with what he was doing on his own. I had given him a talk earlier about how wonderful it was to have a good musical ear like he has, but if he would also take the time to learn to read music really well, there’s nothing he couldn’t do on that piano. I’m not sure if I got through to him, or he just figured it out himself and was doing a pretty good job. I told him that day that there were a lot of other good things he could learn if he came back to class and he readily accepted. He’s there every time now and still forgets to listen to new instructions but one little toot on my whistle wakes him up and he’s with us again. I’m making him sound like a delinquent, but that’s not how he is at all. He’s actually a very sweet boy, and I’m convinced he has a little ADD, because when I’d try to stop his playing and finally get his attention with a loud “Woo Hoo”, he’d look up to see what was going on and realized that we had stopped. When I’d start in on my instruction again, he’d forget and just start fiddling around again. I finally resorted to buying a referee’s whistle just for his benefit. It works just great for him, but the others kids hate it and tease him about it. He’s doing much better now and has been playing for priesthood meetings every week and often does prelude or postlude for Sacrament meeting. The first time I heard him playing prelude, I was a little shaken because it was so loud and choppy, even though almost all the notes were right. Because the regular piano/organ in that ward is broken, they use the little keyboard piano from the primary and there’s no sustaining pedal. Because our practice keyboards in class have no pedal, they’ve not learned how to make the music more smooth. I took him into the chapel after a lesson last week and showed him how to play like an organist would, by holding onto one key or chord, until your other fingers found the next one. When he played prelude music this week, he did an amazing job of sustaining the notes, but for some reason had the microphone standing by the piano speaker and the volume was deafening. I think he just didn’t hear the little part of our lesson about prelude music needing to be quiet and reverent. I visited with him about that this week in our lesson and hope he got the message that he didn’t really need the mike. I think we’ll actually make a creditable piano/organist out of him. He’s actually doing most of it himself, but has become very receptive to my coaching him on his technique. I walked into the church the other day after picking up some kids for my class and heard someone playing what I thought was the organ in the chapel. It sounded lovely. Once inside the building, I found out it was Star just practicing on the keyboard that was set up for organ and playing just as smooth as if he were playing an organ and sliding his fingers from key to key. I was delighted and he seemed to be also when I complimented him on it. <br /><br />It’s really satisfying as a teacher to see some success with several of the students and feel like I’ve made some little contribution to that. Five of my students have filled out their applications for a free keyboard. I just have to finish filling out my part and pass them on to the Stake President to sign and I can fax them to the Church Music Department for evaluation. I hope there’s a chance that some of them will be rewarded for their hard work. Several others will be advancing to the point that they can apply fairly soon.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj70qkJwsKQ18JugiWv29Ow22Q921J_jFmLzNzv10eQXTuffTHDGK9g2FLc_gM9Anp-bsvGw8cMhGU8b-xlBkl_-DUKp8T-IM-VQJ7FAxZe2a6HNikp6s1LB_lVZuyeLb4a7N6d_DfgPQ/s1600/061.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578498512952803570" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj70qkJwsKQ18JugiWv29Ow22Q921J_jFmLzNzv10eQXTuffTHDGK9g2FLc_gM9Anp-bsvGw8cMhGU8b-xlBkl_-DUKp8T-IM-VQJ7FAxZe2a6HNikp6s1LB_lVZuyeLb4a7N6d_DfgPQ/s400/061.jpg" /></a><br /> I couldn’t resist snapping this picture of John trying to get past the gate at the home of a member of our mission presidency. Now that we’re delivering all the mail that comes over from Upolu, we were not able to reach these folks by phone and when we got up to the house, which is way up in the mountains beyond Vaiola, the gate was locked. We didn’t want to make another trip back so he just climbed over the gate. He got hung up just a little, but made it over, and decided when he came back to crawl under the gate to get out. I thought I had taken a picture of that too, because he looked even sillier slithering under the gate, but for some reason it didn’t make it to my laptop. I guess we could go back up there and restage it so I can get a picture this time. Somehow I don’t think he’ll go along with it.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPXl5cuPBoSdocULtZnyB7cmJC23sJEEpGrt9W_UzXP5DOdBP8oriRtSYbIeJeUrfHfH99ZybOD7PZWkqbDcQm5hm6pk516CvvoFQlQD8axzd7K6RFHhlnKk4go0LsO3MNjForGK5aaw/s1600/064.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 299px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578498460894154834" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPXl5cuPBoSdocULtZnyB7cmJC23sJEEpGrt9W_UzXP5DOdBP8oriRtSYbIeJeUrfHfH99ZybOD7PZWkqbDcQm5hm6pk516CvvoFQlQD8axzd7K6RFHhlnKk4go0LsO3MNjForGK5aaw/s400/064.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiTQA6XGPCC-JdErPMhM4zCj5ND1fD3YjlUxP5t0XuZNG9arAebbPV16TZCZKqpCfDr5xHpDzgKTjUAikOxf5qj2FcwqLBWTRhPXnSQ6AJNhcsnIovJOEFCggscxoYJYxMNxb2-MN26A/s1600/065.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578498405728908162" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiTQA6XGPCC-JdErPMhM4zCj5ND1fD3YjlUxP5t0XuZNG9arAebbPV16TZCZKqpCfDr5xHpDzgKTjUAikOxf5qj2FcwqLBWTRhPXnSQ6AJNhcsnIovJOEFCggscxoYJYxMNxb2-MN26A/s400/065.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinhASzxFXnKd6qBnVyr04QRpaJ9mfHrFEX8pTYBdMWyRxTWDptrqaNfaHIr2FcbkXzVFQWYJTi88vG9kRPaZiESqcfFTBD3ipSlYB0_LYBStdjy5g_NsAaUbbfIy4mNx_SQhuXY0mTQA/s1600/066.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578498359008515426" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinhASzxFXnKd6qBnVyr04QRpaJ9mfHrFEX8pTYBdMWyRxTWDptrqaNfaHIr2FcbkXzVFQWYJTi88vG9kRPaZiESqcfFTBD3ipSlYB0_LYBStdjy5g_NsAaUbbfIy4mNx_SQhuXY0mTQA/s400/066.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcyGNeAIlU0_C6iYCIonhLBafP9qzek4mXghb7Ugso16v7tLodSAISLyd3S_GmIWX6tZBKr_aHAUxCuWCN0K9cLrzCs13hWdhM12-9pk07y9o7jzBcm0KB_QnlSqCDKT4x1G_1Dg2mPA/s1600/068.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578498295125226226" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcyGNeAIlU0_C6iYCIonhLBafP9qzek4mXghb7Ugso16v7tLodSAISLyd3S_GmIWX6tZBKr_aHAUxCuWCN0K9cLrzCs13hWdhM12-9pk07y9o7jzBcm0KB_QnlSqCDKT4x1G_1Dg2mPA/s400/068.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVkNuTOo3IxSgIjp3UhzwHaUIIt_1K9lAl_mamidYvCULbOMbILAaf7QJhjCY_OQ9dNyVFnzevwRTiuvV1w2AW9vCNF4nw7Fo7QmaEQ9Xa39VdJ-s_sulrUmqyTprjl_qCl-BFQJ-0Cw/s1600/071.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578498229102976994" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVkNuTOo3IxSgIjp3UhzwHaUIIt_1K9lAl_mamidYvCULbOMbILAaf7QJhjCY_OQ9dNyVFnzevwRTiuvV1w2AW9vCNF4nw7Fo7QmaEQ9Xa39VdJ-s_sulrUmqyTprjl_qCl-BFQJ-0Cw/s400/071.jpg" /></a><br /> One Thing John would definitely go along with was pictures of his flourishing garden. The first picture is of the tomato “tree” that grows by our front door, surrounded by a squash/pumpkin patch that doesn’t quit. The next picture is of the side of our house where there are two tomato trees and more pumpkin patch. The tomatoes are growing so fast and tall that John has to climb up a ladder and tie the stems to a rope to keep them from falling over. Notice the beautiful red tomatoes ready to pick and a harvest of two “pumpkins” and some tomatoes. We can’t begin to eat all we grow and have enjoyed giving away much of the harvest. There’s a big cabbage patch behind the house that I didn’t get pictures of and will do so later when they are more mature. We are certainly not hurting for fresh vegetables. This gardening is all happening at Christmastime so that’s quite a twist for us.<br /><br />Speaking of Christmas, because we were pretty much alone over here that weekend, we decided to have a skyping party for the elders on Christmas Eve. They are allowed to call home over Christmas and they have longingly watched us skype our family through the year as we all come to the internet café on P-day. We promised that we’d provide the skyping session for them on Christmas. They came from all over the island and were spread out over most of the day. We spent from about 9:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m. that day coordinating their skype schedule and allowing them each about 30 minutes. It was a long day for us and we were able to fit our own family skyping in between their sessions, but we had a great time listening in on their Christmas visits with their families and enjoying our own as well.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkw_MkoX3XppKkCWeEwZ28eD-RGCofzxN1KTYS_dQ5aZQDx7LwwH97iA2L8u0ZXhrZGzCDO9guax8OuoXXZLfN2dVZzvvB85ckt1CTY0PMzS1WJekFee72n48FpKebCqkWVdiCe2GtyA/s1600/073.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578498151411233218" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkw_MkoX3XppKkCWeEwZ28eD-RGCofzxN1KTYS_dQ5aZQDx7LwwH97iA2L8u0ZXhrZGzCDO9guax8OuoXXZLfN2dVZzvvB85ckt1CTY0PMzS1WJekFee72n48FpKebCqkWVdiCe2GtyA/s400/073.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh130cDD7vCzVNFr9JYoS3aVg44yYiUsDalENak_2t5X_DU_tepihN4sIpFYb10HujZG3a-AXfUhNK1I-f_qaYW96a7GJTkAiiKz6fawy_BEIrRD2Pa2AZHqNaZKJz8xcYc9YBCE3WyoA/s1600/075.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578498094863922274" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh130cDD7vCzVNFr9JYoS3aVg44yYiUsDalENak_2t5X_DU_tepihN4sIpFYb10HujZG3a-AXfUhNK1I-f_qaYW96a7GJTkAiiKz6fawy_BEIrRD2Pa2AZHqNaZKJz8xcYc9YBCE3WyoA/s400/075.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2GUS0faYzLpXR3zK6lGzIVqOVZ0bEzSuxkljeIMMnxXUHZI7rcYkbR1sPGu2L-NtatoHP4NTfBo5fSjz6eIVx_g7LKAFFQzOvGQNgOM_FkWnu9Ee7p6vNUHxpc-VYdNrtiQ3g5Htv1Q/s1600/076.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578498045632714674" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2GUS0faYzLpXR3zK6lGzIVqOVZ0bEzSuxkljeIMMnxXUHZI7rcYkbR1sPGu2L-NtatoHP4NTfBo5fSjz6eIVx_g7LKAFFQzOvGQNgOM_FkWnu9Ee7p6vNUHxpc-VYdNrtiQ3g5Htv1Q/s400/076.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsi2KD4Q2LuVIzy5Ks1vgg27iFvNkhlU0y9lcmtxZZE0Mx3uxi6rvU8Fxo6ofEs4IA9EDmpVv5coPH2Ut6wwP1pf7L6KwjcQSFr96tJYcLzIPxNIEKRn4v8JLXzbJkpHnPX7ZvGn6-cg/s1600/078.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578497990504517218" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsi2KD4Q2LuVIzy5Ks1vgg27iFvNkhlU0y9lcmtxZZE0Mx3uxi6rvU8Fxo6ofEs4IA9EDmpVv5coPH2Ut6wwP1pf7L6KwjcQSFr96tJYcLzIPxNIEKRn4v8JLXzbJkpHnPX7ZvGn6-cg/s400/078.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_Mj0o-0oH7ty_GdH3Iu2koGBERTG9d4Q2YuzaNMWChKZLSrm8Xv5HFlVJT52Ki4vXxl3-TZHwnbigA-w404JeO8M0AKazAPCoej0pMMdL4FeP55F3UYY1epDoTQQb1L4-8dlg2-tDfA/s1600/080.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578497937790041218" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_Mj0o-0oH7ty_GdH3Iu2koGBERTG9d4Q2YuzaNMWChKZLSrm8Xv5HFlVJT52Ki4vXxl3-TZHwnbigA-w404JeO8M0AKazAPCoej0pMMdL4FeP55F3UYY1epDoTQQb1L4-8dlg2-tDfA/s400/080.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizjRBM_ESWCJHUPqrx0ADUN-xw4JmNxzB1FZu8k-kZn2WLBTIyCW61pH66ljSq5CRwuXh657k0RV-4P4olnYlgFwpw34pXhRKhce1niJpI5Oi1ZIGEYrO656KMdQ4XsAobFwmXmfUcWg/s1600/088.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578497875857049042" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizjRBM_ESWCJHUPqrx0ADUN-xw4JmNxzB1FZu8k-kZn2WLBTIyCW61pH66ljSq5CRwuXh657k0RV-4P4olnYlgFwpw34pXhRKhce1niJpI5Oi1ZIGEYrO656KMdQ4XsAobFwmXmfUcWg/s400/088.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUdwPgFM3rhO96pgUrsbISFrB3YyhOB5typIBiE-788OMeeUzBTJ_tHCSuo9qtpDZ2E2wHFiyqDq50w4H4zbKW2BScX6jy29D89ZITopmsylhP3vfRj1l1vh8LF3BkXYQLucEij_d6Ow/s1600/090.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578497811127660306" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUdwPgFM3rhO96pgUrsbISFrB3YyhOB5typIBiE-788OMeeUzBTJ_tHCSuo9qtpDZ2E2wHFiyqDq50w4H4zbKW2BScX6jy29D89ZITopmsylhP3vfRj1l1vh8LF3BkXYQLucEij_d6Ow/s400/090.jpg" /></a><br /> These were most of the Palagi elders who skyped, because the Samoan elders’ families don’t have computers and skype. Each Palagi elder introduced the Samoan Elders to their families and everyone seemed to have a great time, including us, even though we were worn out before the day was over. Once we finished, we had to head home and start making our preparations for the Savaii Elders Christmas dinner the next day at the McKay wardhouse. They were all excited to be able to get together and eat, exchange gifts, play games and just visit for the day. I realized after that I didn’t get single picture because I was running around all day trying to get everything organized and everybody fed. The elders brought some snacks, but John and I provided most of the dinner, home made Chicken Noodle vegetable soup, garlic bread, cut up vegetables and fruit, not to mention bread, peanut butter and jam, graham crackers and milk and other goodies from home. They were a big hit and enjoyed by all. When we were spending the morning trying to get all the food ready by ourselves, two of our teenage friends in the ward happened to stop in and ask if they could help and we were happy to accept. We would never have made it without them. They helped cut up all the fruit and veggies, made homemade noodles (strange shapes, but still delicious) dished out ice cream and cake and then helped us and the elders clean up after. What a huge help they were and we really appreciated their help on Christmas day and they would not take a reward of leftover food for their families. They just wanted to serve the missionaries. The party was a lot of work, but really filled the day for us while we were missing the family so much.<br /><br />Earlier in the week, we went to two ward Christmas parties. Our own ward, McKay ward, and the second ward we worked in was Fusi, where we had our first English class. We’ve gotten really close to some of those families and it was great fun to celebrate with them.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR6Mkulk3bOVFqCY-dVjgRYaY0H6RFKbMohSxUlukvxfmZR8r9MJ7AoGjrsVBXiNGEitwVCk1iIKvuGRmfUrv1prpfCZXzueDSGzSmHMvbVZI1ekn74J7NS5Z3x9u7PMQLs6OwqvoJ1g/s1600/102.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578497732106746466" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR6Mkulk3bOVFqCY-dVjgRYaY0H6RFKbMohSxUlukvxfmZR8r9MJ7AoGjrsVBXiNGEitwVCk1iIKvuGRmfUrv1prpfCZXzueDSGzSmHMvbVZI1ekn74J7NS5Z3x9u7PMQLs6OwqvoJ1g/s400/102.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEjYc23TQnPekBKGTgVYgZ6Sg0lmOtB6UiX2yTVetBIYe5sATrsWQdQnWI57Jkk098Ese6lm8Vx0IiYTM28W_pgM1OxoO8-y7RIr2vW-AUClbD67O2R69Tyw55gUgT_D6wPTVuqCAIFw/s1600/120.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578497665088478450" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEjYc23TQnPekBKGTgVYgZ6Sg0lmOtB6UiX2yTVetBIYe5sATrsWQdQnWI57Jkk098Ese6lm8Vx0IiYTM28W_pgM1OxoO8-y7RIr2vW-AUClbD67O2R69Tyw55gUgT_D6wPTVuqCAIFw/s400/120.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSywnQaXoyF4ECBip9eMT8e8aSQ5KWcRrrLwCYsyY7aedCR4SVM1FI4ZmoMl_m8wj9TjkL5gCvRjR-Zs3Ih394VcZTKLJTB8ZUwJKWwPSeZos33X78vXVkF41y7LVBli76ZaPyJN1gAw/s1600/134.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578497600218049234" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSywnQaXoyF4ECBip9eMT8e8aSQ5KWcRrrLwCYsyY7aedCR4SVM1FI4ZmoMl_m8wj9TjkL5gCvRjR-Zs3Ih394VcZTKLJTB8ZUwJKWwPSeZos33X78vXVkF41y7LVBli76ZaPyJN1gAw/s400/134.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR3lkyQSM9ivyLg2SwlM-SBi8kV9xsn-st1XNjOwQEy51nGv2HWNOBoEav5GwdOcy5JAuOg54-cuNGyVe_5s6m0BMj9c0DXMPYeMhyGhSydbOe6Qy9vFV9nJReTZ96e-RbWlOvRu6G4w/s1600/136.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578497523115917538" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR3lkyQSM9ivyLg2SwlM-SBi8kV9xsn-st1XNjOwQEy51nGv2HWNOBoEav5GwdOcy5JAuOg54-cuNGyVe_5s6m0BMj9c0DXMPYeMhyGhSydbOe6Qy9vFV9nJReTZ96e-RbWlOvRu6G4w/s400/136.jpg" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC4qvQCQV3C4W86gfj_9uCnMY4SSD9jT46GtIEOgYdxPpgRt2wn4b_knxhb48c0GKQEsT62KBU6LQ6SU8Flicw7NzH4CNIAjxgo2R5lvJdo46B5BoDeTkHo2Jt-GPylSLPAuab4dGBTA/s1600/140.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578501211837493586" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC4qvQCQV3C4W86gfj_9uCnMY4SSD9jT46GtIEOgYdxPpgRt2wn4b_knxhb48c0GKQEsT62KBU6LQ6SU8Flicw7NzH4CNIAjxgo2R5lvJdo46B5BoDeTkHo2Jt-GPylSLPAuab4dGBTA/s400/140.jpg" /></a><br />Our first party in was in Fusi Ward, where they held a 3 hour dance, program and then dinner. It was held at the Stake Center cultural hall, where their ward meets, and everybody was there, with all ages dancing and performing, including John and me. Many couples and families came dressed alike, which seems to be a big deal for celebrations and programs with the Samoans. We had a great time reuniting with those families that we worked with our first three months in the mission.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPnUGxgBVLe375eiGC1KjO-t92GQs8i9cXt9ZF3L5VQFJv1pE8aIyZEsRZyYUBpI0iTBBoTtqDfI3-fVcX9poQHwXD2jR1oNokBItMqzKF0HDoyQTdRoD08o2fzwMR7eCTZ0cIs1orhg/s1600/145.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578497198978381954" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPnUGxgBVLe375eiGC1KjO-t92GQs8i9cXt9ZF3L5VQFJv1pE8aIyZEsRZyYUBpI0iTBBoTtqDfI3-fVcX9poQHwXD2jR1oNokBItMqzKF0HDoyQTdRoD08o2fzwMR7eCTZ0cIs1orhg/s400/145.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH_jdyOdZKkogMlHe1JZVXVqTH2LZoEAW7MwOaojZADqGx_8O5Sh2MQeQOp8Qcwirwzvvm5O2u1_l3i6nXhMgca2eg5LsrCN_MegdV00p6DYK77CSzoY_WThC_DtWdoWTGZENCTP8rGw/s1600/151.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578497132961022962" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH_jdyOdZKkogMlHe1JZVXVqTH2LZoEAW7MwOaojZADqGx_8O5Sh2MQeQOp8Qcwirwzvvm5O2u1_l3i6nXhMgca2eg5LsrCN_MegdV00p6DYK77CSzoY_WThC_DtWdoWTGZENCTP8rGw/s400/151.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxFWC6fr8tmMriQ5Uk8Oz_Ut8fViHC7I3dhkAnX7efeAEeE6Km8-7EryEtNHmJY09T1Cl2Zq6qKOg4Os_hmL2iGFsZiEziBUKjHYvN06_OBvdeJiyAt2BB0B-pNf7ptlzEW0nHHLztxA/s1600/154.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578497071838453714" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxFWC6fr8tmMriQ5Uk8Oz_Ut8fViHC7I3dhkAnX7efeAEeE6Km8-7EryEtNHmJY09T1Cl2Zq6qKOg4Os_hmL2iGFsZiEziBUKjHYvN06_OBvdeJiyAt2BB0B-pNf7ptlzEW0nHHLztxA/s400/154.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyxucd5rJTIluXseDnR2wKUavh9sxCnWrathciZinx0Uzi03ASZg14f3HrxC18TGJQe8TCXm6vTA74SPe2UBa6B7VZ6g6rlecle0Kt2pKfCTg0MpxGAzJ64TxtqEQ2B54boDp_u8KQ6g/s1600/163.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578497013241238994" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyxucd5rJTIluXseDnR2wKUavh9sxCnWrathciZinx0Uzi03ASZg14f3HrxC18TGJQe8TCXm6vTA74SPe2UBa6B7VZ6g6rlecle0Kt2pKfCTg0MpxGAzJ64TxtqEQ2B54boDp_u8KQ6g/s400/163.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaHBkZEw1PAdQJi2l0aRXjdRnsNJoMWIDYd3vmn4xWkw4Yi34kThs0y78gtwqxMcCC2Stq5HX_VU3gyHx7dHDvEHV63PpGivtVkF5uTzux9xWQv9LoP1nxpOb31p8pjDOU_H2UkofaRA/s1600/166.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578496944816725714" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaHBkZEw1PAdQJi2l0aRXjdRnsNJoMWIDYd3vmn4xWkw4Yi34kThs0y78gtwqxMcCC2Stq5HX_VU3gyHx7dHDvEHV63PpGivtVkF5uTzux9xWQv9LoP1nxpOb31p8pjDOU_H2UkofaRA/s400/166.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipInRlGbrMOQpjDUsPH91P4T2apzsVgxeZi0nVRGhZn00vvOHCLGfbeouVEaYx_WhmMQpgkKbRRlQjp8c7fgnBgjNuzCTa_EdytnBYl44kRcx7K-yEGQDvQBUyUwbpiM7bg7NHfjiMkA/s1600/167.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578496876185182994" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipInRlGbrMOQpjDUsPH91P4T2apzsVgxeZi0nVRGhZn00vvOHCLGfbeouVEaYx_WhmMQpgkKbRRlQjp8c7fgnBgjNuzCTa_EdytnBYl44kRcx7K-yEGQDvQBUyUwbpiM7bg7NHfjiMkA/s400/167.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu_xqxldbVrA4GNLYMHexQo0X0pU2ir1wKqvhuUCj_DhGANuXyS_Y6Ek-6rbQQ4TpuS8Ldf-gieFF6WIMtBw4rBUbUps1jwmKwQCywcAHeIUE2UOc-Jwy8A_jFygK4Xvma_yMUgMvjtQ/s1600/174.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578496787255564178" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu_xqxldbVrA4GNLYMHexQo0X0pU2ir1wKqvhuUCj_DhGANuXyS_Y6Ek-6rbQQ4TpuS8Ldf-gieFF6WIMtBw4rBUbUps1jwmKwQCywcAHeIUE2UOc-Jwy8A_jFygK4Xvma_yMUgMvjtQ/s400/174.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxT067B6gr8hOj_DZKpuhyphenhyphen9U_oNobmftZXcU4B-h7RCj_wq9hYDjaUmYMqlF6IvaZVCm9T3JEbmNX_jW32L-fWYYqUdSfLj6Ot6A6C-2YYmyD1GfNoHF6LnNP42wdx3yI9HOdOBdf_9A/s1600/175.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578496206981436562" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxT067B6gr8hOj_DZKpuhyphenhyphen9U_oNobmftZXcU4B-h7RCj_wq9hYDjaUmYMqlF6IvaZVCm9T3JEbmNX_jW32L-fWYYqUdSfLj6Ot6A6C-2YYmyD1GfNoHF6LnNP42wdx3yI9HOdOBdf_9A/s400/175.jpg" /></a><br /> The next night we attended the McKay Ward Christmas party, our home ward. They had some dancing, but spent a good part of the evening performing musical numbers from different neighborhoods. The party was held outside on the basketball court and part way through it began to pour rain, so every one moved inside and just hung out for an hour or so until the rain stopped. No one seemed too alarmed about the wait and just took the delay in their stride. After the rain stopped, they spent some time mopping up the basketball court and then started the program again. The program and dance and dinner that followed must have gone on for 5 hours (including the rain delay and a visit from a very young, skinny Santa), but no one seemed to notice and a great time was had by all, including us, except we were worn out by the time it was over.<br /><br />I just had to add a few last random pictures here at the end, just to make sure I had them in this blog.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5TLQ_c81Ai-rdmTqj9yh_26yCiPzWUjRP78KLGzHgeRyhcjXlhAXb8GSGM9NeEk5EZAZjScgbI_uIbgz2qzr9KXbVLKE92CDCId_F0ZJTeYXe3LlvfrpUiaYJRlBzAHvVBpgFfjWreA/s1600/190.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578496118877421474" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5TLQ_c81Ai-rdmTqj9yh_26yCiPzWUjRP78KLGzHgeRyhcjXlhAXb8GSGM9NeEk5EZAZjScgbI_uIbgz2qzr9KXbVLKE92CDCId_F0ZJTeYXe3LlvfrpUiaYJRlBzAHvVBpgFfjWreA/s400/190.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjrytNWhb5naXgNATNudUnI0vjvKrcMM1OWQ_K5ptT8bspBKrnxcTEytL5YBDWlXrP4Sl91KAW699WgAdIGitCsJ6S-46MZPuhFlYvIRdzYAo_azc9a2oUKIAUP36YbseT9cfiq2rVFw/s1600/191.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578496049106457970" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjrytNWhb5naXgNATNudUnI0vjvKrcMM1OWQ_K5ptT8bspBKrnxcTEytL5YBDWlXrP4Sl91KAW699WgAdIGitCsJ6S-46MZPuhFlYvIRdzYAo_azc9a2oUKIAUP36YbseT9cfiq2rVFw/s400/191.jpg" /></a><br />The Samoans have these little tiny neighborhood stores all over the place, but this new one really caught our eye. It was being beautifully hand painted by the proprietor and I had to have a picture of it. Most of the big stores in town close down everyday at 4:00 p.m. and then noon on Saturday. These little family enterprises can be open as late as midnight, as long as people are still needing supplies, or just a place to go socialize when there’s nothing else to do. We see more and more of them being built and wonder how they all make a go of it. Often there are several in what we would call a one block area. Our guess is that since they can buy the supplies wholesale, they can cut their own family budget down, even if they don’t sell a lot.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBtMgn2pkZT28T1nWCPPGH0pRGnAND_Ix1ub-2OYoVB3Ou7GCua8b5m0naltGwscZSBYs9XK5R2dJcRW69-_Ns7brTf2oVlUKi9-MplsTAMi6jOrskTyVpKAdDbKRGt0MgETlOUlk59Q/s1600/197.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578496439240302018" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBtMgn2pkZT28T1nWCPPGH0pRGnAND_Ix1ub-2OYoVB3Ou7GCua8b5m0naltGwscZSBYs9XK5R2dJcRW69-_Ns7brTf2oVlUKi9-MplsTAMi6jOrskTyVpKAdDbKRGt0MgETlOUlk59Q/s400/197.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVl41Dd1EwUsPvrQrQhlwEaWI-0ZP2xv3VqiQAQqH_WqH7ODDzhMkvcLuNk7cKXWiI5zFj2oOI3I6Q9Rb7ej4mjuzTnksu65SAZtaFLLY6Fzl2Qd9eizDnR4ShSqyCVjsTiPjxIrF5Cw/s1600/198.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578492536211935906" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVl41Dd1EwUsPvrQrQhlwEaWI-0ZP2xv3VqiQAQqH_WqH7ODDzhMkvcLuNk7cKXWiI5zFj2oOI3I6Q9Rb7ej4mjuzTnksu65SAZtaFLLY6Fzl2Qd9eizDnR4ShSqyCVjsTiPjxIrF5Cw/s400/198.jpg" /></a><br />As we were showing some Upolo Senior Missionaries around one weekend, we took them up to see the waterfalls and found all kinds of people swimming in the beautiful clear little pools around the base of the falls. The place looks like the garden of Eden and the swimming looks wonderful, not to mention the fun the kids were having jumping from high rocks into the deeper parts. It’s a definite must visit place if and when family members come to see us down here.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUdn49h31vFSzi9SePRoXzDRtupjwtwIFi5aVT-B3NWarRJHbuho6o0fAOAoXSKv03KDcnO-KYtbRXMhyeuHa9038SUY4G0utvKYw16uTu9qU7r0r7mwWpQl-fjzTsCcJ5v0cDjFlgOQ/s1600/200.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578492415641989250" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUdn49h31vFSzi9SePRoXzDRtupjwtwIFi5aVT-B3NWarRJHbuho6o0fAOAoXSKv03KDcnO-KYtbRXMhyeuHa9038SUY4G0utvKYw16uTu9qU7r0r7mwWpQl-fjzTsCcJ5v0cDjFlgOQ/s400/200.jpg" /></a><br /> One last shining example of the ingenuity of some resourceful elders trying to dry their white shirts in a hurry. As we stopped to deliver some mail to these elders we couldn’t help but notice the white shirt spinning around on the ceiling fan. Apparently they will dry much faster that way than on the clothes line, especially if it’s raining. It was such a priceless image, I just had to snap a photo of it.<br /><br />Well, I’m going to call it a day and finish off this segment, even though I have much more to show and tell, but that can wait for next time. I’m determined to send this off at the internet café tomorrow before we head into another very busy week. Here’s hoping and praying that all is well with you and your families.<br /><br />Love to all from the Kroghs<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>John & Karen Kroghhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08097598934218597824noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7660554378340018126.post-87659289057741997282010-12-15T20:28:00.000-08:002010-12-15T21:04:38.016-08:00Blog #13 – November 6, 2010<br /><br />Hi everybody. I had the text of most of this blog completed when I sent Blog #12, but when I realized how much time would be taken up to add all the pictures I had ready, I decided to split the blog up a little and send the second part of that blog a little later,a part of which you are getting now as Blog #13. I say 'part' because it was still too long with all of the pictures. I'm learning more and more what my limitations are where this laptop is concerned and so, for your sake and mine, the blog entries must be shorter each time. Good News, Right?????<br /><br />While we were working last month in Saasa’ai we had the opportunity to attend the local primary Halloween party. Now, they don’t really celebrate Halloween much in Samoa, but I appears to be catching on a little. Tasi Segi, a ward missionary in that ward, introduced us to her sister who is the primary president. They had scheduled a Halloween party, but she didn’t know anything about Halloween and asked us for some information about how it is celebrated in America. We happened to have our photo calendar in the car where we have a photo of several of the grandkids dressed up for Halloween several years ago. We showed her the picture of how they all get dressed up in costumes and go trick or treating. She couldn’t understand what we meant by “trick or treat”, so we explained how the kids go from door to door in their costumes and get treats. The “trick” part of the phrase is an old practice from decades ago where the kids would create mischief if they didn’t get the treat. I explained that it’s been decades since any tricks have been played, because most everyone gives a treat. The trick or treating would not be a realistic activity here in the village neighborhoods, so we explained how the wards back home would have trunk or treat, or other activities at the church. Sooooo…. we went to this party and they did a pretty good job of trying out Halloween for the first time. Some of the costumes were nothing more than a painted face, because they understood that the church doesn’t encourage masked parties. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwKqsac7YHNg_u31VWPaj1FlwMRm5sEzcPnNCyxaGd-HV4aWYLKrZT2adSSKo6rYuunVmJa9Dx84AZpGuXMXQ2DH06tDq0ZW1wYy8IB0ipbrgVDoJE9FeCn6xdVvlj14EmTR9du6bGtA/s1600/642.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 299px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551137747426542706" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwKqsac7YHNg_u31VWPaj1FlwMRm5sEzcPnNCyxaGd-HV4aWYLKrZT2adSSKo6rYuunVmJa9Dx84AZpGuXMXQ2DH06tDq0ZW1wYy8IB0ipbrgVDoJE9FeCn6xdVvlj14EmTR9du6bGtA/s400/642.jpg" /></a><br />In order to simulate the door to door trick or treating, they set up booths all over different parts of the church grounds and the kids visited each one, carrying their universal plastic grocery bags, and collected treats from each booth.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1TvuQrB2MdFwDw1XrmNaGeCpgN1oLFi7tTpeEYj5qesBsbPNHlMW_qG1O-wH-Vj5Y-r82HRK1ZzKgW0wvW7jrr_q4RL3VgTBwVOfc5duvSF2ZpVPOAyyE1W60ysoVvGrLVbJE3ePMiQ/s1600/628.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 299px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551137655236630210" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1TvuQrB2MdFwDw1XrmNaGeCpgN1oLFi7tTpeEYj5qesBsbPNHlMW_qG1O-wH-Vj5Y-r82HRK1ZzKgW0wvW7jrr_q4RL3VgTBwVOfc5duvSF2ZpVPOAyyE1W60ysoVvGrLVbJE3ePMiQ/s400/628.jpg" /></a> <div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr9HKXn0unOb_QSIEXjZmRGZKj02_sZ4257IofblZZqsuG9xhwQAYI0QJ2p5PWDZ4Bdmx556BQReiKqPSovijR3XzIA_AKp0KLv5MG02QRohIchYtCH9Kz4Gn0fOIC5XCk77eM9hZAow/s1600/645.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 299px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551137478240094178" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr9HKXn0unOb_QSIEXjZmRGZKj02_sZ4257IofblZZqsuG9xhwQAYI0QJ2p5PWDZ4Bdmx556BQReiKqPSovijR3XzIA_AKp0KLv5MG02QRohIchYtCH9Kz4Gn0fOIC5XCk77eM9hZAow/s400/645.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-6ElnUWs7amey5a5IGWwIrKsKCo3tq9TTFuro1Bri3ctzSEs20KfK-CKtqdQ0csfzMfmfCk_Hs-KYMkhjKadGXbb07LdDlhh8y-952NWMLBfjI-qkizH7_4tKc1ylUjs2VWJ_WSx_2A/s1600/654.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 299px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551137358086040786" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-6ElnUWs7amey5a5IGWwIrKsKCo3tq9TTFuro1Bri3ctzSEs20KfK-CKtqdQ0csfzMfmfCk_Hs-KYMkhjKadGXbb07LdDlhh8y-952NWMLBfjI-qkizH7_4tKc1ylUjs2VWJ_WSx_2A/s400/654.jpg" /></a><br />These are some of the costumes that showed up that night.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRWAvqLwomqZNg4ZwZ6CJoDsmOM9Kol5rz5Nbe2GhbbG1u77jqcM8X3OHPtpKpIiPZpIbkxPahrxLYy65g256BeirZ0Mzyu1NPMr-0Dm58u9XjDE3aJMsLXkXJDmjnXXPMkqYyPc51pg/s1600/648.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 299px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551137298063053474" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRWAvqLwomqZNg4ZwZ6CJoDsmOM9Kol5rz5Nbe2GhbbG1u77jqcM8X3OHPtpKpIiPZpIbkxPahrxLYy65g256BeirZ0Mzyu1NPMr-0Dm58u9XjDE3aJMsLXkXJDmjnXXPMkqYyPc51pg/s400/648.jpg" /></a><br />This was my personal favorite—several adults dressed up as Mormon Missionaries, complete with their own missionary tags from previous missions.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_FDwfbO20X9J3kFvXj_vjj5BuPANZm46vbQerGTQxBWvkXZmTxiAmC5eaqc82AeXSCEdd64nORUk_FvS9ezeXFji_PQlj5SbEt_St0BJSDzb6VAHQ8LLR26FVFIbTMeOW_LsnchDzBA/s1600/634.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 299px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551137242375103906" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_FDwfbO20X9J3kFvXj_vjj5BuPANZm46vbQerGTQxBWvkXZmTxiAmC5eaqc82AeXSCEdd64nORUk_FvS9ezeXFji_PQlj5SbEt_St0BJSDzb6VAHQ8LLR26FVFIbTMeOW_LsnchDzBA/s400/634.jpg" /></a> <div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8IVNXiL2FnzNGAq5r98cR5KrX2rhZQlVNNj9zJ0UH8EwMkJqOrwI0GrgfbISHdjUEqKHdftsDYHV_V5jzo7lBR6autOZ6zlyifKpZa7H8TQIrOPA-Y5HTF0BqlsEy3GpFBR4QP2hMiQ/s1600/657.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 299px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551136940314920546" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8IVNXiL2FnzNGAq5r98cR5KrX2rhZQlVNNj9zJ0UH8EwMkJqOrwI0GrgfbISHdjUEqKHdftsDYHV_V5jzo7lBR6autOZ6zlyifKpZa7H8TQIrOPA-Y5HTF0BqlsEy3GpFBR4QP2hMiQ/s400/657.jpg" /></a><br />These two pictures are of Tasi with several of her nieces and cousins. Tasi is one of about 10 children, and her mother is one of 16, so she has relatives absolutely everywhere. The party was a great success and I’m guessing there’ll be more and bigger Halloween celebrations as the years go by and the stores discover how to merchandise all the candy and costumes. We see none of it at this point.<br /><br />We had another treat this past weekend and went back up to Visaula for some more snorkeling with Elder and Sister Squire. They had come over from Pesega for some special classes at Vaiola and had to stay over until Monday, so we all left Friday afternoon and came back Saturday afternoon. It turned out to be cold and rainy on Friday and also Saturday morning. Sister Squire ended up being a little under the weather, so she stayed in on Friday, and when I started into the water, I decided to be lazy myself. The guys went ahead and braved the elements without us. I went back to our room, grabbed my book and perused it until I closed my eyes and had a lovely little snooze (what could be better?), until John came back a couple of hours later shivering like crazy. He jumped into the shower, which turned out not to be very hot because the water is heated by the sun and we didn’t see the sun that day. We spent some time that afternoon playing some games with the Squires, then went over to the dining room for a leisurely dinner before we all turned in for the night. We planned to get up early to catch the low tide, but when we looked out on our balcony, we saw the Squires on their adjoining balcony taking pictures of several boats circling around out by the reef. We had heard that the palolo were running this week, and these folks had been out catching them all night long with flashlights and lanterns. (John explains that Palolo is a worm-shaped reproductive segment of an annelid or sea worm. It is greenish-brown, worm-like, about 2 inches long and about the thickness of Raman noodles. Once a year, around the end of October or the first of November, and corresponding to a full moon, these reproductive segments come to the surface of the water out near the reef. They are highly sought for, and quite a delicacy.) John has eaten them before and quite liked them, saying they are about like the taste of caviar. Right now I really am just going to have to take his word for it, because they don’t sound that appetizing to me. The people go out with all kinds of fine nets, almost like butterfly nets and scoop them up from the sea and collect them in all sorts of containers. I raced back in to find my camera, but by the time I got dressed and went out onto the balcony, all the boats had come back in and the people were unloading and coming back to the hotel. John hurried down to try to get some pictures of their catch and after seeing the pictures, I was pretty sure that I’d pass on eating the palolo this time around.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUeQKMqDDAFdszaUZ8sqksTlLtAuR6xIz7A_ZCm75t1R_T25Qx7QwZRg0li-Tqf4x3Jwp8Yp6m5PIbo80j0DiqknuILoO7x-6Q-shaSnEDT_r5kLEbDhVWe1dcnxcaccQ3vWcuEpu8gQ/s1600/536.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 299px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551136879140043058" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUeQKMqDDAFdszaUZ8sqksTlLtAuR6xIz7A_ZCm75t1R_T25Qx7QwZRg0li-Tqf4x3Jwp8Yp6m5PIbo80j0DiqknuILoO7x-6Q-shaSnEDT_r5kLEbDhVWe1dcnxcaccQ3vWcuEpu8gQ/s400/536.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7Bh5fCnSS1n4wf0qZ1WQWWRUqBMmsK2Y3tQ9RO1ghvZA7A52xgoU5drJBWeRIUfjGDhB50_WJ2QUs1rOd2JPX_CBDf4dJ6O23RsXO1n17uO2sz1zjF2D3wixlNJKcTe5liuOp1UpOIQ/s1600/540.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 299px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551136825901203618" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7Bh5fCnSS1n4wf0qZ1WQWWRUqBMmsK2Y3tQ9RO1ghvZA7A52xgoU5drJBWeRIUfjGDhB50_WJ2QUs1rOd2JPX_CBDf4dJ6O23RsXO1n17uO2sz1zjF2D3wixlNJKcTe5liuOp1UpOIQ/s400/540.jpg" /></a><br />This first picture is of the bigger boat owned by the hotel, unloading several guests who had come to Visaula especially for the palolo run. In the second photo, John was able to catch a picture of one batch of the squirmy worms collected in a garbage bag by one of the guests. Ugh!!! When I thought of having to go out there snorkeling with all of them swimming around, I was ready to stay back, but it turns out they are completely gone by daylight and won’t come out again until after dark. Considerate of them, I’d say. We did go ahead and go snorkeling for awhile, but it was still cold and stormy and we didn’t last long. We came on in for a yummy breakfast and just about the time we finished, the sun decided to make an appearance, so we asked if we could stay beyond checkout time to do some more snorkeling. The owners were not expecting any new guests that afternoon, so they told us to take all the time we needed. We had a wonderful time. Besides being warmer with the sun out, it kind of sparkles under the water and you can see so much more color. Since we’ve gone snorkeling with the Squires, we’ve learned that half the fun is the hunt for shells and diving for them. I haven’t had the nerve to do much diving at all, because it means taking a big breath and diving under, while your snorkel tube fills up with water; then when you come back up you have to blow hard to get all the water out in order to take another breath. I watched John do a lot of dives and he found some really nice shells. I decided that I wanted to try it, so I stopped in some shallow water and practiced a few times, getting two or three good mouths full of sea water before I finally got the knack of it. On my first real dive for a shell, I had a hard time staying under, because quite frankly, in spite of a pretty good weight loss this year, I still have plenty of blubber on me that keeps me afloat. After working really hard I was able to make it to the bottom, only 6 or 7 feet down, collect a shell and make it back to the top without a big gulp of water. The shell was a small, very common one, but I was really proud of myself for actually doing it and it certainly added to the fun and excitement. I had to keep that silly little shell because it was my first dive success. We collected several other shells and finally had to bring them back in because we had no more pockets, etc. to carry them in. After we unloaded, we went back out again until we just wore ourselves out. It’s probably one of the most enjoyable times we’ve had snorkeling and look forward to our next shot at it. The Squires are expert snorkelers and they also take lots of underwater pictures. When we saw their photos, we really got the bug to get an underwater camera and try to take our own pictures. We may do that for ourselves for Christmas this year. In the mean time, we thought we’d include a few of the Squire’s underwater pictures just to give you an idea of what we’re seeing down there. Let me tell you, if you get to the ocean somewhere and don’t get a chance to even do some simple snorkeling, you’ll have missed most of the beauty of that venue.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6sW8ptqyJNVvoCM8CcbrAZeEW9ADeh1FuKj6Bq3lsbR__MhAgoTcOpofFFtYdyyZVTVcXTAmjhXHi-e7lI5yGzjDYJj8RwuUod0ug0mBBa2b4916cH9Uy7afVLK3mpvhcVs4f0gSyQA/s1600/fish.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 299px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551136727095393602" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6sW8ptqyJNVvoCM8CcbrAZeEW9ADeh1FuKj6Bq3lsbR__MhAgoTcOpofFFtYdyyZVTVcXTAmjhXHi-e7lI5yGzjDYJj8RwuUod0ug0mBBa2b4916cH9Uy7afVLK3mpvhcVs4f0gSyQA/s400/fish.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFfR4scot6cAz7VrITidN4pLlqV1xO5VhYnSH9mHGTXGUd93n9kQKZsEUWHoeDWqW5pXzQO6lzTMuHh1phAY_9liGxZ9sp6XL01sIO_m2rlDDB4kj4uH89OojZQJ3XKlYu017ohgLNKA/s1600/fish2.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; 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MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 261px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551136560295148402" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3iinpquSFen9y7ujVtUcq70ZzFZi18-RxsPuA8pGlAIW_IL-7xlqYYBnCIXvEQixjrWc9fLPm0nXWOXTLt1K17hHlpFCi7Nm64ZshPaIW8eKEsLmXbfG3OH-aDUvejLuwfVFrtKdCXg/s400/fish4.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyyk90_2bV99zq8jvviFDaVCJ-EjNxFhnobyofpmdNzaY5hDnxHFIffvxEAhFTJsn4JSpPhLFjjg7v6mZUMqxKNv5fZLBRIUg1gpuOw5ixrkSLzAHspV6ftmnWtXuoSUSa_HZN3pTPzg/s1600/fish5.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551136506729504370" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyyk90_2bV99zq8jvviFDaVCJ-EjNxFhnobyofpmdNzaY5hDnxHFIffvxEAhFTJsn4JSpPhLFjjg7v6mZUMqxKNv5fZLBRIUg1gpuOw5ixrkSLzAHspV6ftmnWtXuoSUSa_HZN3pTPzg/s400/fish5.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYjylXw47P2ujJgVNjXePrScnMiZJ5zK78y33bpmQwOAseKjOrvT4_R3012b9tvABFIZ1MeHd2ra2i8-2hVkwLXovmeUTC6cURSQHNnE30V-BLdRG9Ie0ESJX3MdDIvDuzHS0VQ9KWyg/s1600/fish6.jpg"></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCwZY9icdqKYm8YEeTHlki2kcBn1GQrfj54R_pSmiFshOP1vZXN8QhGsAjjwTPzVP6cIJ0Dxii8sAtXJCbfsNsDpehqsobmLfMWKd2RQdHaZz_GKxiFtW1zsolmjpM6UNA9KxCh9c_9g/s1600/fish6.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 299px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551136356605232402" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCwZY9icdqKYm8YEeTHlki2kcBn1GQrfj54R_pSmiFshOP1vZXN8QhGsAjjwTPzVP6cIJ0Dxii8sAtXJCbfsNsDpehqsobmLfMWKd2RQdHaZz_GKxiFtW1zsolmjpM6UNA9KxCh9c_9g/s400/fish6.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbEW7A3Z6V3H2zCaJeMEelVWvvBQUX_H5VdQuTnw2YoLWsZHc14KmK6UtcU-xiooASi8BfAt6WvPzJe4XExofUoETWoG4PtEx14Fe26NTN9Id53xLN34aM4dB2LGQwkOE33OcwOk62uQ/s1600/fish7.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 317px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551136313137727778" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbEW7A3Z6V3H2zCaJeMEelVWvvBQUX_H5VdQuTnw2YoLWsZHc14KmK6UtcU-xiooASi8BfAt6WvPzJe4XExofUoETWoG4PtEx14Fe26NTN9Id53xLN34aM4dB2LGQwkOE33OcwOk62uQ/s400/fish7.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbBeVlg5a4rcMJMQYmlKIppQSZKo7ZWG4EVgJcNO7NB3HEbHjG9pIHwBgRjLn0OoliNRaeOBO_igZ6Htlbo-HBMbhHHiIaDez5tCNWQHrBIYvNiIVvlbDxbjaPHSGAx_xSKWRrhKN_EA/s1600/fish8.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 299px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551136254492719346" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbBeVlg5a4rcMJMQYmlKIppQSZKo7ZWG4EVgJcNO7NB3HEbHjG9pIHwBgRjLn0OoliNRaeOBO_igZ6Htlbo-HBMbhHHiIaDez5tCNWQHrBIYvNiIVvlbDxbjaPHSGAx_xSKWRrhKN_EA/s400/fish8.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1uXwI5BjimZx82HL5BICXE4azt9pTaVn1162rhvVNB9CDVwUF0CPUyFL0YQ8vJkX0QemLUi8mI_Et8ZPTnS1MshnxpAzzeLHtGJW1wIdspndCeEaiKoz7XDcZQzbq0Dv-dWM-HjsuVg/s1600/fish9.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551136202152214722" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1uXwI5BjimZx82HL5BICXE4azt9pTaVn1162rhvVNB9CDVwUF0CPUyFL0YQ8vJkX0QemLUi8mI_Et8ZPTnS1MshnxpAzzeLHtGJW1wIdspndCeEaiKoz7XDcZQzbq0Dv-dWM-HjsuVg/s400/fish9.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwEokGFMNrrQ7hRzvkwhnv6PWqAMwT5wN0BVCWI7hQbE3MuQX6MH2RMBxY_ULNjW4JOQxg25yuJtkE96NlU9lYFKshF_8mbUWgLuG03XrWChAGe_1SKEZ_vsCnMDyubG2TBuYjlHkByA/s1600/fish10.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 255px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551136149555776402" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwEokGFMNrrQ7hRzvkwhnv6PWqAMwT5wN0BVCWI7hQbE3MuQX6MH2RMBxY_ULNjW4JOQxg25yuJtkE96NlU9lYFKshF_8mbUWgLuG03XrWChAGe_1SKEZ_vsCnMDyubG2TBuYjlHkByA/s400/fish10.jpg" /></a><br />When we left Vaisala on Saturday afternoon, we decided to go home around the opposite way from where we came. We came around the island counter-clockwise, and could have gone back the same way, but we decided to go the other way just to see some different scenery. Visaula is far enough around that it’s about the same distance both ways. As we were getting close to home, we told the Squires about a tapa cloth demonstration we had seen a couple of months ago, at a fale up ahead a short distance. They are leaving to go back home this month and this is their last trip to Savaii, so they asked if we’d mind arranging for them to see the demonstration. We had made a reservation before when we brought another couple, so I was glad for the chance to see it again and take photos. We stopped at the fale and asked if it would be possible to see a demonstration that day. The lady said that if we didn’t mind waiting 5 or 10 minutes while they gathered everything up, they’d be glad to oblige us. The making of tapa cloth is becoming almost a lost art, because most of the younger generation are not interested in taking so much time and trouble to create a project. There are apparently only about 3 families left on Savaii who make tapa cloth anymore and this family so far seems to be able to keep their younger generations interested.<br /><br />JOHN: In our visits we have met some interesting and unusual people. We always go out to meet families initially using a ward mission leader or some other church member to show us where to go. There are no street names or address numbers. Many families will contain a father, mother, their children, grand parents, cousins, etc, all living in the same house. One woman, Flo, has taken on the responsibility of taking care of a severely handicapped 30 year-old niece who can only lie on her back and be spoon-fed all of her meals. She can’t talk, sit or stand due to severe contractures of her joints. She is probably mentally retarded as well. Another 7-year-old girl has been ‘p[ taken in as a daughter because her real mother tried to take some kind of drugs to abort her, and thought she would also be born like the other handicapped girl. She, however, is quite normal, and, in fact, is very precocious. If this isn’t enough, Flo also takes care of her aged mother who is wheelchair-bound. Flo has been coming out to church again. She speaks good English and loves to talk. Our first visit lasted 5 hours.<br /><br />We stopped in for another short visit yesterday and ended up staying about 3 hours, after she had fed us several kinds of snacks and then prepared a full meal for us of fish and chips, chicken soup, taro and bananas, soda pop. She kept sending her girls out to buy more stuff at the store. We certainly were filled up and ended up having just fruit and mixed nuts for dinner that night. We’ll be going back tonight to take her a pumpkin pie and the recipe. She has a baking business that she’s trying to expand into a fish and chips place and thought pumpkin pie sounded pretty good to add to here menu.<br /><br />Others we have visited have had their feelings hurt by a church member, or they have stopped keeping the commandments and have fallen out of the habit of going to church. We are sure that some of them don’t tell us the real reasons. Undoubtedly there are some who don’t want to pay tithing, others who live far from the church and don’t want to walk that far, etc, etc.. We are offered Samoan cocoa practically every where we go. We usually eat Sunday dinner with a member family, and eat a lot of taro, palusami, chicken soup, fish (speared, baked whole), papaya, and lobster and crab on special occasions.<br /><br />Last week we met a woman who is not a member, but now wants to be baptized, along with her whole family. The Elders are now giving them the lessons. She told us her church has levied an assessment on each family of $5000, 30 pigs, and 24 cases of canned meat for the building of their new church down on the coast. If they don’t come through with the assessment, they will not be allowed to worship at that church. She was impressed that we would eat the same food as her family ate. She said her pastor would turn his nose up at that food because it wasn’t good enough for him. She was also very impressed with our tithing doctrine and our unpaid ministry. I explained that our church leaders don’t get paid one cent for their service, and that they all have to support themselves. Other churches here supply their ministers with a salary, all their food, sometimes a car and a house – all at the expense of the members. I pointed out that that was not in accordance with Christ’s teachings, because Peter and his fellow apostles continued to work as fishermen while serving, and Paul continued to work as a tent-maker while serving as an apostle. Anyway, I’m sure that family will soon be baptized. Our mission gets about 130 baptisms each month, and leads the Pacific area in baptisms. I told Karen she could edit my entry if she wanted to, and you will know she didn’t if the following statement remains: Karen is a dingbat.<br /><br />KAREN: Ha! I added a couple of things anyway and everybody already knows that I’m a dingbat, so that’s not big news to anyone.<br /><br />Recently one of our elders, Elder Beck, called us to tell us about an injury on his hand that appeared to be getting badly infected, with red lines running up his arm. John told him to go straight to the hospital and they surprised him by admitting him immediately and starting him on intravenous antibiotics. He had been putting a shirt on and put his hands above his head and was smacked by the metal blades of the ceiling fan. He and his companion, Elder Wells, had to stay at the hospital for three days, until the treatments were finished. They had not a chance to get back to their fale to even get clean clothes, or shaving stuff, etc. We visited them the second day and found them pretty discouraged, just sitting there all day and night. In Samoa, you have to take your own bedding to the hospital, supply your own food and have a member of the family stay with you 24/7 because of a nursing shortage. Because companions cannot be separated, Elder Wells had to stay as the family member. The local ward provided them with bedding and a mat so Elder Wells could sleep on the floor in Elder Beck’s cubicle. The ward also provided meals for them. We had thought we could pick them up and take them home that second day, but the doctor wanted more treatments, so we had to come back the next morning. They were both chomping at the bit to get out of there so that they could get clean clothes, a shower, and a shave. They had pretty good 5:00 o’clock shadows by then. It took most of the morning to finish the last treatment, and their whole zone of elders came in while we were there waiting and sang to them and had a prayer. The hospital was pretty clean, but very sparsely furnished. Each cubicle had a bed and a bench. Elder Beck’s intravenous bottle was hanging from a home made wooden stand about 6 ft tall, with a cross board at the top with holes drilled in it to hold the bottles of fluid with a wire. It was almost noon before they were ready to go and they were really ready. These are some of the pictures we took while we were waiting for them.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO1ccwPugPi3nfcutmZTkgffhyphenhyphenY7c1aQCB7avd1bAX_Ks3v39vCm326yVqdSHwmS_sHX8l9W3VFrQfWbfcE1XUXnscKSO6D1EoURDLGHt95-un9RwEL97OHy6BQkIaHDGrTuv14ViehQ/s1600/664.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 299px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551136004031486082" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO1ccwPugPi3nfcutmZTkgffhyphenhyphenY7c1aQCB7avd1bAX_Ks3v39vCm326yVqdSHwmS_sHX8l9W3VFrQfWbfcE1XUXnscKSO6D1EoURDLGHt95-un9RwEL97OHy6BQkIaHDGrTuv14ViehQ/s400/664.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihHZFEWr4JZXuGznZnuaLUzPBn-htdTdIrufdzxE0IWrildG1lh5IXh3NdTFnFee8JkCGP6esvkh6iC6psw44cteWxdKdsseDOr4aKEKr2lWTjSN9V0iOpqp29as5NMEebzHvkiqbCeA/s1600/665.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 299px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551135950074580802" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihHZFEWr4JZXuGznZnuaLUzPBn-htdTdIrufdzxE0IWrildG1lh5IXh3NdTFnFee8JkCGP6esvkh6iC6psw44cteWxdKdsseDOr4aKEKr2lWTjSN9V0iOpqp29as5NMEebzHvkiqbCeA/s400/665.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7s28qzfsegO_egngdsPaKmRqDd8-DMZO8X2Wv01g-lojJfByCWTAI_UMBLbBcGoqtLnV8XJr8XiNbuvggbz14oE-FYMmOCDnecF9PEkXPnznXNSZD4u54Jo-6EaMpcrelOkM1H0BRrw/s1600/672.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 299px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551135902970532162" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7s28qzfsegO_egngdsPaKmRqDd8-DMZO8X2Wv01g-lojJfByCWTAI_UMBLbBcGoqtLnV8XJr8XiNbuvggbz14oE-FYMmOCDnecF9PEkXPnznXNSZD4u54Jo-6EaMpcrelOkM1H0BRrw/s400/672.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRQKdxY6Jm6XxFZVZbUq_pbHlnGWm7cpKhEfECChxuTCXVFiPSnUBfowEtK0x5-waw83IRPdaQoPIGoLDHX1nNqq4ibspj9-9tnbPqJxQiNxELetChA8jIe3kV7-mg0x07hVfa5Xjd2A/s1600/677.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 299px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551135818727496962" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRQKdxY6Jm6XxFZVZbUq_pbHlnGWm7cpKhEfECChxuTCXVFiPSnUBfowEtK0x5-waw83IRPdaQoPIGoLDHX1nNqq4ibspj9-9tnbPqJxQiNxELetChA8jIe3kV7-mg0x07hVfa5Xjd2A/s400/677.jpg" /></a> I got Elder Beck’s family’s email address and sent them a note and copies of the pictures. I got the pictures in the message in the wrong order, and apologized that I was a 72-year-old senior missionary, who is still pretty computer illiterate, and said I was thankful that the pictures ended up in the message at all. We got a copy of a note his family sent as they forwarded the pictures to other family members and commented about the sweet little old 72-yr-old grandma who had sent the pictures. We got a big laugh out of that. I may be a 72-year-old grandma, but sweet and little??? That just doesn’t seem to fit a true description of me.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXaTyFpHf6E9ud9K6QM_EHALYE7ntRugIAWgMqQv0yoq0Ckz6i4I_CJTMNIkN3o-OruJD2I7mzGlGal-WnlZgkZCOJjPOIzXk9I5zS-nYQX5d3SEepwCnAvSEZWmCUuntB83JljpkHWw/s1600/682.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 299px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551135605174203602" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXaTyFpHf6E9ud9K6QM_EHALYE7ntRugIAWgMqQv0yoq0Ckz6i4I_CJTMNIkN3o-OruJD2I7mzGlGal-WnlZgkZCOJjPOIzXk9I5zS-nYQX5d3SEepwCnAvSEZWmCUuntB83JljpkHWw/s400/682.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcEpW4Ye7A5SUeXPoczSOh86Ul5iE1ebmO5bXkK-Z5ARJuLzNHW4BOD9xXMkk8e78Jk_aE1YxLawa-Nn6XHAvOWhVNQl68LfraU-O6gK_z8kWKLCntCyvaeeFzP0nRBu9s5F7eg1OTow/s1600/684.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 299px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551135559492853906" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcEpW4Ye7A5SUeXPoczSOh86Ul5iE1ebmO5bXkK-Z5ARJuLzNHW4BOD9xXMkk8e78Jk_aE1YxLawa-Nn6XHAvOWhVNQl68LfraU-O6gK_z8kWKLCntCyvaeeFzP0nRBu9s5F7eg1OTow/s400/684.jpg" /></a> These are pictures we took of our second adventure making pizza. Elder Uelese, who was the zone leader and getting ready to go home, said he’d heard I’d made pizza for the last zone leader who went home and suggested he’d love to have some. So we invited him, and his companion and any others they wanted to bring along to have pizza the following Saturday. We got a picture of the pizzas this time and I’ll admit they look pretty strange. The cheese we can get here hardly melts at all, so the pizza looks a little blotchy. I was so excited to find pepperoni over in Apia last trip, so these pizza’s were better than the others. We have no such thing as a pizza pan around here, so I found these funny shaped aluminum trays at the grocery store that looked like they would fit in our little oven, so we bought 4 of them and they’ve worked out pretty well. I cover them with foil, so they don’t get burned on food on them and will plan to use them over and over. We had to flatten them out a little, because they were shaped like a serving tray with a ridge in around the middle, but John just took the hammer and smashed them all pretty flat and once they’re covered with foil they don’t look quite so beat up. The picture of Elder Uelese sitting at the serving table with the pizza in front of him, is exactly where he sat the rest of the evening. I had intended to use our little table as a buffet and just planned to have them load their plates and sit around the living room with drinks on a little table in the center. Elder Uelese just decided to stay by the Pizza and I think must have eaten almost two of them (I made four) by himself. The other 5 of us ate the other two, plus a couple of pieces. This particular elder is a very handsome fellow, but I’m sure he’s put on about 50 pounds since he got here and I hope he can take some back off when he gets home. He’s actually a law enforcement officer who was in great shape when he came and is expecting to go back to work on the police force in Hawaii. I’ve a feeling they’ll crack down on his weight once he’s back. He’s a great elder though, and is several years older then most of the others. He just felt a strong desire to get more school under his belt before his mission, so he almost finished a masters degree in Criminal Justice, but just couldn’t pass the final test two different times, missing the passing level by only 1 or 2 points both times. His father, who had been encouraging him to go on a mission for several years, told him he’d be sorry if he waited too long. He jokingly said his father must have put a curse on his exams, and figured he’d probably never pass until after he’d served his mission. He was so reluctant to go on a mission for so many years, but now he doesn’t want to go home. He’s extended twice for a month each time and asked the President to extend again, but was told that it was probably time for him to get home and move along with his life. As with the other missionaries we’ve watched go home, we’ll really miss him too.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNIZFnBbQUw4l6gjNmhxe-BKoo99AYOFor-8uOaVqn_oIn_FcbcaYQuYVjhxgEkdJSb3lR_XHDPVwnVMzWlf2yEmme7KTwS5sQ6CdAsu7UyyFUs2BYEM9qAD8o3phnTjiOADHjTjenlw/s1600/686.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 299px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551135510062016082" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNIZFnBbQUw4l6gjNmhxe-BKoo99AYOFor-8uOaVqn_oIn_FcbcaYQuYVjhxgEkdJSb3lR_XHDPVwnVMzWlf2yEmme7KTwS5sQ6CdAsu7UyyFUs2BYEM9qAD8o3phnTjiOADHjTjenlw/s400/686.jpg" /></a> This a photo we took of our good friend Tasi Segi, (see pictures early in this blog in Halloween paragraphs) with her “friend” as she calls him that she is planning to marry next summer. They are engaged, but like most Samoan couples there is very little demonstrative romantic behavior between them in public. She met him just as he came home from his mission and he became interested in her right away. Because she was planning on a mission herself, she didn’t want to get too serious with anyone yet. She did really like him, but had very strong feelings about her own mission. He told her he’d just wait, because he really intended to marry her someday. Once she finally got her call to the Independence, Missouri, mission, he supported her completely and wrote her faithfully every month, even though she didn’t write to him a lot, because she was trying to focus on her mission. She was amazed that he was still waiting here in Samoa when she got home and hadn’t changed his mind at all. She was able to relax now that she was finally home and allowed him to come around a lot and spend time with her and her family. She’s totally committed now, but he works over in Apia and she’s not ready to think of moving there just yet, so they trade weekends and visit each other. Each time she goes over to Apia, she stays a little longer with her cousin because she doesn’t want to be separated from her “boyfriend” or “Fiancee” or friend as she calls him. I’ve a feeling the wedding will be sooner than next summer. Tasi has been a great help to us visiting inactive members of her ward, where she is serving as a ward missionary. Because of her American mission, she speaks great English, so we’re able to go on splits with her and the ward mission leader. We’ve become great friends and we really miss seeing her so much now that we’re working in another ward. The day we took this picture of them there was an outing at the beach for the local YSA, Young Single Adults, where they swam, played volleyball and had a wonderful feast of barbequed chicken and all the trimmings.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqR1iubbOukYHSeEUsCKNlRJ8pxO4QxpUyphXkrgu7B4aKiZ9VMDHW6JNt4OzmRLtQOWimzGpE3WTpcMapd8ZQKERRYGcu2JY4bZOnueZ0i6JtqKGvwJM63zP9wV00eXHN3cqk0KEiRQ/s1600/690.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 299px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551135454130833618" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqR1iubbOukYHSeEUsCKNlRJ8pxO4QxpUyphXkrgu7B4aKiZ9VMDHW6JNt4OzmRLtQOWimzGpE3WTpcMapd8ZQKERRYGcu2JY4bZOnueZ0i6JtqKGvwJM63zP9wV00eXHN3cqk0KEiRQ/s400/690.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFRWs_B7kuOzz1yXHxRHw_bRDSEBAXXwV-X_RdnIf2yOHpYEqgZk4-IFWuvIIxU1Qfn9wVbfIvqVMvg_zRTYY3Jt6MwsGq6uFedgP4QZbP76fk-ZD2TM5CwunKt47OuCRk1yk-xZbEDA/s1600/692.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 299px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551135403004754786" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFRWs_B7kuOzz1yXHxRHw_bRDSEBAXXwV-X_RdnIf2yOHpYEqgZk4-IFWuvIIxU1Qfn9wVbfIvqVMvg_zRTYY3Jt6MwsGq6uFedgP4QZbP76fk-ZD2TM5CwunKt47OuCRk1yk-xZbEDA/s400/692.jpg" /></a> The elders are always invited to the YSA activities on Saturday, even though they can’t swim. This was the same day we brought Elder Beck home from the hospital. We had wanted to stop on the way and meet Tasi’s intended and the elders decided to stay after seeing the food and games. The other local elders were there too, so we turned our hospital veterans over to them to enjoy the food and volleyball and association with the Samoans so near their own age. It was a nice change for them after those three days cooped up in the hospital, and we were freed from having to take them all the way home, so we were able to go home and get caught up on some of our fun Saturday stuff, like laundry, shopping, housecleaning, etc.<br /><br />Our trip over to Pesega for the Thanksgiving celebration was a really fun weekend. We started off on the early ferry on Saturday morning, arriving on Upolo about 9:30. We were scheduled to meet up with some other couples at a beach on the back side of the island, Return to Paradise Beach (named after the movie that was made there back in the 50’s with Gary Cooper). The route from the wharf to the back side of Upolo is much different from the one we usually take into Apia, and much more picturesque, because there are just small villages over there separated by larger open areas of bush or beach or mountains. One of the rivers we had to cross had no bridge, just a ford. We see these quite often in Samoa where the stream of water just crosses a concrete roadway where the cars just go through the water to the other side, maybe 8-10” deep.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHk-s9nO88qRgdH6IcItI8Vr3qKduekCYD6n_GFILJ2ORfGeB3eyEebtezK4dsLt1B-FQtlF-x48YgLWuXl7PeuBPOZK9NMfZW80-HURcThcCtnPXRCoSu8jVLRUSa_ELr1VtyUXWfTA/s1600/838.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 299px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551135342397239794" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHk-s9nO88qRgdH6IcItI8Vr3qKduekCYD6n_GFILJ2ORfGeB3eyEebtezK4dsLt1B-FQtlF-x48YgLWuXl7PeuBPOZK9NMfZW80-HURcThcCtnPXRCoSu8jVLRUSa_ELr1VtyUXWfTA/s400/838.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwpSWcCQ3NAHzedsLUXcvnvXGk6jMjYSeMzxsDCAeY7exFDND3bhHCVlimWTPfnjV833i0QKH0vthBXEFhyzhst306fGj8wSOTvUC30UDDWpj50ItxbPIDyosQOff0EK1x9Fn1rNVB7g/s1600/840.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 299px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551135293097003618" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwpSWcCQ3NAHzedsLUXcvnvXGk6jMjYSeMzxsDCAeY7exFDND3bhHCVlimWTPfnjV833i0QKH0vthBXEFhyzhst306fGj8wSOTvUC30UDDWpj50ItxbPIDyosQOff0EK1x9Fn1rNVB7g/s400/840.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM4Bt6MswqyrgZa5rHNWRs6gUNwxIk7Ypp2nNraS0sNg9W9YfYyZdviTUvu14aJ5jVYLDVMofaJgPmmd1ZBfNwH9YoKHo2MxDPwToYEfQxHyS_ektv0ISXEmwTJBW6Ym-m5n06gOAh2g/s1600/841.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 299px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551135224772461954" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM4Bt6MswqyrgZa5rHNWRs6gUNwxIk7Ypp2nNraS0sNg9W9YfYyZdviTUvu14aJ5jVYLDVMofaJgPmmd1ZBfNwH9YoKHo2MxDPwToYEfQxHyS_ektv0ISXEmwTJBW6Ym-m5n06gOAh2g/s400/841.jpg" /></a><br />This first picture was taken as the car was getting ready to cross the ford. The other two were taken from the inside of the car halfway across, looking upstream and downstream. This ford is under water almost all of the time, but there are several others on the islands that only have water crossing them during a severe rain storm, which we experienced the first couple of months we were here during the rainy season, and will start happening again as soon as the rainy season comes upon us in January. Last year, we came up behind a line of cars stopped at a ford because the water was moving too fast and deep for cars to safely make it across. Sooooo…, you just wait until the water subsides and it’s safe to start across, sometimes ten minutes, sometimes an hour. You can’t just go around another way because there is usually no other way. We hit a ford once just down below Vaiola, and decided we’d just go around the back way and miss the ford, and found there was another ford on that road too, same stream of water, just down the canyon lower. We’ve learned our lesson about just being patient and waiting.<br /><br />Once we had arrived at the beach, we met the other missionaries and had a wonderful barbeque with charcoal broiled hamburgers and Polish sausages and all the trimmings. It was a cool, rainy day, so only a few of the guys went snorkeling and the rest of us stayed up on the beach and just spent the time helping with the food and visiting. It was a nice relaxing day for us.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUcv6G1SiIeh20lJG3bC5KZY8ah1zaJzYMDx4EmOeb9c46EIDTGdXyUZSyCAJk5iCEcMOt4PVxI-UKJyXGTN0FyRAGcOYwlzTSp2QA0B2Rq0vbrEpWzXBXcGcfTUJMxgQ8CZoqUwsdyQ/s1600/850.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 299px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551135169843294434" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUcv6G1SiIeh20lJG3bC5KZY8ah1zaJzYMDx4EmOeb9c46EIDTGdXyUZSyCAJk5iCEcMOt4PVxI-UKJyXGTN0FyRAGcOYwlzTSp2QA0B2Rq0vbrEpWzXBXcGcfTUJMxgQ8CZoqUwsdyQ/s400/850.jpg" /></a> This is the group at the barbeque: the Tolmans (who are in charge of the Institute at the University in Apia, and will be finishing their mission in February), the Kroghs, the Webers (who just arrived a couple of months ago and happened to be in our ward in Los Angeles more than 50 years ago. He is the mission dentist and they’ll go home after we do), and the Squires, who’ve taught us a lot about snorkeling and become great friends as well.<br /><br />After the barbeque, we were pretty well rained out, so we headed back to Apia, and made our way to the guest house where we would stay for the weekend, unpacked and got settled and then went to our favorite Chinese restaurant for dinner, another special meal that we can’t find in Savaii. We got to bed early and had a nice sleep-in the next morning because our meetings at the English-speaking ward don’t start until 11:00 p.m. After church the next day we spent about an hour making tortillas to take to the Mexican dinner we were invited to at the Squires home right across the street from our guest house.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFZnOPSypEsDjev9Ng1IV9-Fqdx-arEu70v7ns_vqz2PA80W9ToP6XRZ1mPJ2xjXfcuvCU0ql7GPiAf6JzfHBdK8y4yWk_biHmFDwuU1l_eO91i5UUyPEjjgBjAZFFo6JQxBJll1m02w/s1600/852.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 299px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551134976052763442" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFZnOPSypEsDjev9Ng1IV9-Fqdx-arEu70v7ns_vqz2PA80W9ToP6XRZ1mPJ2xjXfcuvCU0ql7GPiAf6JzfHBdK8y4yWk_biHmFDwuU1l_eO91i5UUyPEjjgBjAZFFo6JQxBJll1m02w/s400/852.jpg" /></a> We’ve gotten the tortilla making down to a science with me making the dough and dividing it up into balls, and then John rolls each ball out to tortilla size and then I slap them in the first pan to cook for several seconds on one side, and then turn them over into another pan to finish baking on the other side. We can usually keep two pans going at once to keep up with the rolling pin. Once I had made the dough and allowed it to sit and cool (you make them with boiling water), we were able to roll out and cookaabout 30 tortillas in about as many minutes. (Maybe we should go into the business.) The dinner at the Squires was such a treat, because Elder Squires made his wonderful Chile Rellenos from scratch and taught me how in the process. (He’d made them for us a couple of times before and promised he’d teach me how to make them before they left to go home.) We had the Rellenos, plus our tortillas and all the fixins for soft tacos, chips and homemade salsa, and a chocolate pudding cake for dessert. It was our third great meal of the weekend. After we finished the dinner at Squires, we went over to President Hanks’ home (Temple President) to visit for a little while and look over some music Sister Hanks was going to lend me for one of our elders, who is playing a piano solo at a fireside in Savaii in December. They’re probably just a little older than we are and have 11 children and tons of grandchildren (almost 60 I think) and great grandchildren. This is their third mission to Samoa together, once as teachers, once as mission president and now temple president. President Hanks also served his first mission in Samoa before he was married, about the time Dad was here. I’m sure I’ve mentioned before that he is the brother of our good friend from Kirksville, David Hanks.<br /><br />Monday morning, after a short doctor appointment, we spent the rest of the morning doing our usual Apia shopping for those food items and things we can’t find on Savaii. We’ve got the stores pretty well plotted out as to where to find what we want, so we don’t spend as much time just hunting like we did at first. One store over there has started stocking quite a few things from Sams and Costco since we were here the last time, so it was fun to find some of our old favorites. However, the price is significantly higher that what we paid for it them home, so we decided we could live without some of it till after we get home. At 2:00 we met up with the Squires again for one last snorkeling trip before they go home at the end of the week. They had been telling us about a place just a little outside Apia called the Pololo Deep. Just the ‘Deep’ part of the name made me nervous at first, but they told us there were no bad currents and you could either stay around the edge or venture out into the middle where it was really deep. It’s like a big deep underwater bowl inside the reef. I stayed pretty close to the edge at first, but as I got used to it and everyone else was moving out a little further, I felt better about doing the same. It was just a wonderful place, where you can see more varieties and larger sizes of fish than you can in the shallower areas. We didn’t stay too long because we had to get back for our Thanksgiving dinner, but the Squires felt we’d do better going out the first time with someone who knew what to show us. We really appreciated their time that day, because they have so much to do to finish packing up and getting ready to go home the end of the week, and still keep up their busy missionary schedule right until the very end. Their last obligations are on Friday I think, and they leave Saturday. They are going to go down to visit New Zealand for a couple of weeks before they go home, since they’re already this far south. We’d really like to try to head down that way on our way home, if we can work it out financially. We’ll never be down this way again I’m thinking. Some of our kids have talked about maybe coming down around Thanksgiving next year, which will be about two weeks before we finish up. Our first thought when we thought they were coming right at the very end of our mission was that we’d probably want to fly home with them; but since the Thanksgiving week is easier for them, they’ll be gone before we finish up, so we may plan to go the other way first. That’s still a year away, however and a lot can happen to all of our plans before then.<br /><br />Because they don’t celebrate Thanksgiving in Samoa, the Senior Missionaries scheduled their Thanksgiving dinner for that Monday Family night on the 22nd, combined with a farewell party for two couples who were going home. The dinner was just wonderful, with all the traditional thanksgiving food we eat in America, plus some good Samoan food, because there are now several Samoan Senior couples. The Mission President’s wife brought turkey and ham back from American Samoa on her last trip, and everything else was taken care of by the missionaries. It all tasted so much like home.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTyuaMXfR7-yPc8PgPDkxNhW18bBdBqITacN9BYIttPw9d5H4HHSLXrygkLGM70LL3yOVbQiYGCIyaRe0dlsT5yEJ0mjXwTVnwFk_GObWs_d-umcnHi2gRlPpR_JiHIbLBDvXx5dkD7A/s1600/857.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 299px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551134898765770882" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTyuaMXfR7-yPc8PgPDkxNhW18bBdBqITacN9BYIttPw9d5H4HHSLXrygkLGM70LL3yOVbQiYGCIyaRe0dlsT5yEJ0mjXwTVnwFk_GObWs_d-umcnHi2gRlPpR_JiHIbLBDvXx5dkD7A/s400/857.jpg" /></a> Earlier in the day before we went snorkeling, we stopped in at the mission home and the ladies were all weaving little dining mats to use on the tables. I had a little time, so I sat down and wove a couple of them. We used strips of palm fronds and criss-crossed them in a simple woven pattern and then tied them off at the corners, just one of the many clever things the Samoans make with their hands from something they pluck from a tree or vine. They were used like we would use paper plate liners, to give a little strength to the plate, but also add the Samoan look to the festivities..<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaZyyvyGgX38hFnV6hWMG7LiU-6Idiz6_T09Q-B5TjL8ucpJp_wnrMgljCso_NrnZYkC3HCul0qZQkcNR4sIMcpfNge_m46VJaE1kpRXHcGzX2bU2mUxN7BeygzW7qxDJL_-wwNtPNMQ/s1600/859.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 299px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551134838623898290" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaZyyvyGgX38hFnV6hWMG7LiU-6Idiz6_T09Q-B5TjL8ucpJp_wnrMgljCso_NrnZYkC3HCul0qZQkcNR4sIMcpfNge_m46VJaE1kpRXHcGzX2bU2mUxN7BeygzW7qxDJL_-wwNtPNMQ/s400/859.jpg" /></a> The tables looked so colorful with the dark table cloths, the mat and plates and colorful little corn candies sprinkled all over the place to nibble on before, during and after dinner. I love those corn candies and haven’t had any since we got here, so I put away quite a few during the evening. One of the sisters had made cute little turkey name tag/favors out of half a muffin, a flat cookie for a tail and a little corn candy for the head. It’s amazing what a bunch of old Relief Society ladies can put together.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiPwrB3KOFYdEwjGWDnJbOQXpoLoYpmrwjEGCrUq3O7qjo5kjcJlEsh6BKWSikaVp7SKiha8GqVI2PpQo089mmf17v5qVCoBcvh93kWolblFc1Yw_XYj6TLJDM9kKUYpbgIAKuVfvUjA/s1600/862.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 299px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551134761821256850" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiPwrB3KOFYdEwjGWDnJbOQXpoLoYpmrwjEGCrUq3O7qjo5kjcJlEsh6BKWSikaVp7SKiha8GqVI2PpQo089mmf17v5qVCoBcvh93kWolblFc1Yw_XYj6TLJDM9kKUYpbgIAKuVfvUjA/s400/862.jpg" /></a> It was so fun to be in the kitchen before the dinner to smell the terrific aroma of the meat and dinner rolls cooking, etc., and see everyone bustling around, carving turkeys and hams and making gravy and putting the finishing touches on all the other dishes. Two big buffet tables were set up and decorated with all the food and we carried it back to our tables on the mats and plates. Needless to say, everything was delicious and greatly enjoyed by all. That was our fourth special meal of the weekend, in about that many days. We’ve really been spoiled. (It sounds like all we did that weekend was eat, which is probably not too far from the truth. We’ll have to be good when we get back to Savaii and double up on our exercising to pay for all those delicious calories. Fortunately, we only get over to Apia once in every four to six weeks.)<br /><br />After the Dinner was over, there was a special farewell program put on for the Squires and Pembertons, who were leaving the end of the week.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTMM5gUeVR0nCykcmBwf_I-JTwYQmzziG0qxVk7m8o_i7qfW2g03U0AxUtZyZzukb0ZdPp26RmeeTrL3RX3Z_HxVQmyPwoW9Xm_aEzGb8x8h5-DfNYqGK5OHu_S272movuMnyF9phh2g/s1600/877.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 299px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551134365946544850" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTMM5gUeVR0nCykcmBwf_I-JTwYQmzziG0qxVk7m8o_i7qfW2g03U0AxUtZyZzukb0ZdPp26RmeeTrL3RX3Z_HxVQmyPwoW9Xm_aEzGb8x8h5-DfNYqGK5OHu_S272movuMnyF9phh2g/s400/877.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9oLse2kagEqdH0KWQaTVOL2AAzPNlg3zrNi-ccAPnY-MngNMqwbWtE0zJ3QMQhOhPRRtl8cyyzr5rnZgf9m8gISU4b3Q4A3ZIY7qDpth0gQqdy_A5NMFkVNC-gHoDAZOhP_ECY0ykZA/s1600/879.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 299px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551134308222158450" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9oLse2kagEqdH0KWQaTVOL2AAzPNlg3zrNi-ccAPnY-MngNMqwbWtE0zJ3QMQhOhPRRtl8cyyzr5rnZgf9m8gISU4b3Q4A3ZIY7qDpth0gQqdy_A5NMFkVNC-gHoDAZOhP_ECY0ykZA/s400/879.jpg" /></a> By tradition, each couple has to stand up and give a few thoughts about their mission experiences, and of course many tears were shed by those leaving and those seeing them off, maybe never to see them again.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieWOCd2spT4TGB_ZdDdZ_Vf8k-DUWXDfU1OvyPB7TjPj1IOB8U_WymYoTzAnxog4tqoVIE9x_RqcO9I02JGu-eGdIF4cxsi0O6OGKxFli-ICMUQkeRHrpQY3zh7od3TgsjxTJTHJxDnQ/s1600/883.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 299px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551134204376218738" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieWOCd2spT4TGB_ZdDdZ_Vf8k-DUWXDfU1OvyPB7TjPj1IOB8U_WymYoTzAnxog4tqoVIE9x_RqcO9I02JGu-eGdIF4cxsi0O6OGKxFli-ICMUQkeRHrpQY3zh7od3TgsjxTJTHJxDnQ/s400/883.jpg" /></a> The final ordeal for the two couples was having the group sing the traditional Samoan farewell song to them. It’s a beautiful song and a lovely way to end the program, but a real tear jerker for all involved. After getting everything all cleaned up, everybody just seemed to want to hang around and visit before heading home. We were so glad to have the opportunity to go over for that weekend and spend some precious time with the other Missionaries. What a tremendous group of people they are, and we feel privileged to have this association with them.<br /><br />We finished our last day in Apia the next morning, by spending time in the Temple, which is always an uplifting experience. We had to head out pretty quick after we left the Temple so that we could pack up our belongings, pick up all the last minute mail and packages that we needed to carry over to Savaii for all the young missionaries, and then make the 45 minute drive back to the wharf to catch the 2:00 p.m. ferry. We got off the ferry an hour and a half later, raced home to unload the car, and then filled it up again with pianos, music and lesson books for our piano class that afternoon at 5:00 p.m. up in Moesavili. Our mission was back in full swing.<br /><br />This looks like as good a time as any to end this section and continue with the rest next time around. I guess I'm including too many pictures in each blog and there's not enough space for them all. Rather than eliminate the pictures, I just need to make each blog posting shorter, in order to keep everything in that I want to have saved as our Mission Journal, which will include all of the blogs over our 23 months. I expect we'll have several volumes by the time we go home.<br />We trust all is going well with your families and we've loved hearing from you periodically. Please know how much you all mean to us and how much we look forward to seeing you all again.<br /><br />Until next time around, much love from Mom and Dad, Grandpa and Grandpa, John and Karen, Elder and Sister Krogh<br /></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>John & Karen Kroghhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08097598934218597824noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7660554378340018126.post-27386450271650177682010-11-08T16:15:00.000-08:002010-11-08T17:07:00.120-08:00Blog #12 – September 28, 2010<br /><br />It’s only been a little over a week since I sent off the last blog segment and I am determined to try to write as I go on this next one, so it won’t seem such a huge job when I get behind on it. Thank you so much for your comments and emails, especially your thoughts about all the details I write about. I fear that my long-winded entries will become a bore to everyone, but I’m having such a great time writing the experiences we’re having, I hope you’ll forgive my desire to not leave out anything. When we get back home and start missing Samoa and her beautiful people and spectacular scenery, we’ll have a wonderful record of this amazing adventure to look back on.<br /><br />One morning early, John woke me up asking where the camera was. I told him it was in the car and he said I might want to get some pictures of the beautiful sunrise that was showing itself off. I threw on some clothes, grabbed the camera and was able to get a couple of shots before it started to fade. It only takes a few minutes for the sunrises and sunsets to lose their color after they’ve hit their peak.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9yBskbL98sO62ICRLgfQzgdpMaFzs7f5H3hPAASmKTm3c99whwa-ybY6-Pn1S-RYScB5ntjGXX3HpbmWTfl0nLrC5BqaIw9jILuAUZhzvobGBs_iTDCFJe1dLqH0wykoXE8-6wxvm0A/s1600/335.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537341702380268946" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9yBskbL98sO62ICRLgfQzgdpMaFzs7f5H3hPAASmKTm3c99whwa-ybY6-Pn1S-RYScB5ntjGXX3HpbmWTfl0nLrC5BqaIw9jILuAUZhzvobGBs_iTDCFJe1dLqH0wykoXE8-6wxvm0A/s400/335.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT6H3V8I590ILHmH_5udcyIL-Ew2yolbum5h6iFlfKqWpvdEYtcwWb3noq9YJ6UzuR6iUM_QA74Vq7CzDBuLVacRZnLbanpkHOeZEBvKO4FiwUkG62Fp-07pI9nnWxVEZEPbpC4ITuLg/s1600/336.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537341647954997026" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT6H3V8I590ILHmH_5udcyIL-Ew2yolbum5h6iFlfKqWpvdEYtcwWb3noq9YJ6UzuR6iUM_QA74Vq7CzDBuLVacRZnLbanpkHOeZEBvKO4FiwUkG62Fp-07pI9nnWxVEZEPbpC4ITuLg/s400/336.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirXK3SaC9-V2dGh8vN8klF36i2ddp-dS7x7DVPJriK496rUW9LTYvhUEOSVDpERZSEkYH9s5y8z-UTzMmMmSaVTSYrOUTdpU4ZJ2vaid-_Fwy1Wzn0Ycbql7LC88Cnh-PlPPovxD4ARA/s1600/338.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537341605290029634" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirXK3SaC9-V2dGh8vN8klF36i2ddp-dS7x7DVPJriK496rUW9LTYvhUEOSVDpERZSEkYH9s5y8z-UTzMmMmSaVTSYrOUTdpU4ZJ2vaid-_Fwy1Wzn0Ycbql7LC88Cnh-PlPPovxD4ARA/s400/338.jpg" /></a>These were some of the beauties we took that morning. The best part of most sunrises and sunsets, besides the color, is the cloud formations.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0Rzkt8jixsFDK1P-h9_hnuUyMUXQurzHqYSMNhxzXQ4ikbu42PjO6-_xdjBpvEwZP4xLvCZKMCFmNwrPKGChTXL8V6BX2EukpGnpTI9GuxgCr8OxJq3XB-TUdFTWMpctzROi9qx3SSQ/s1600/339.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537341559197635394" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0Rzkt8jixsFDK1P-h9_hnuUyMUXQurzHqYSMNhxzXQ4ikbu42PjO6-_xdjBpvEwZP4xLvCZKMCFmNwrPKGChTXL8V6BX2EukpGnpTI9GuxgCr8OxJq3XB-TUdFTWMpctzROi9qx3SSQ/s400/339.jpg" /></a>These clouds were across the sky from the sunrise. We’ve never seen clouds like we see in Samoa and here are a few we snapped just before sunset on another day, as we were dropping some piano students off at their house, which sits right across the road from the beach.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhNduC4rwtDooQHk1l3IDU9BvD6oys0sokvXlL-h-ddP6TCKzQWvuiTxO5nhzaj8Um4iUBvw3MtqArR_dUkUihlQndaFTPUl4vCIqYABiX5s_yIo7czwH8Y7r9pPFJXOGq1ciZv429kg/s1600/500.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537341475179511938" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhNduC4rwtDooQHk1l3IDU9BvD6oys0sokvXlL-h-ddP6TCKzQWvuiTxO5nhzaj8Um4iUBvw3MtqArR_dUkUihlQndaFTPUl4vCIqYABiX5s_yIo7czwH8Y7r9pPFJXOGq1ciZv429kg/s400/500.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdtfmgDctrbAVmNha_wQcvt6tURzw056SIYaZb5i_6s1aIwZDv6M2IZMw_MdeMZnpU2Ip6s9LfQiQYG77YOJpvcVB1jc6qPPwXqhJ7JcenLJvv23fhzCvMExnev7ovSZprrlUvvrakWQ/s1600/502.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537341239160562930" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdtfmgDctrbAVmNha_wQcvt6tURzw056SIYaZb5i_6s1aIwZDv6M2IZMw_MdeMZnpU2Ip6s9LfQiQYG77YOJpvcVB1jc6qPPwXqhJ7JcenLJvv23fhzCvMExnev7ovSZprrlUvvrakWQ/s400/502.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia9m_cWZ8GXCYI1wswFYYwhKfNodFZz_82XhNl_htepi0A_aNBLI29zoC65DE4-LaafgNkUufOZ1_NUemln42deH-Ov9knYkP-QgUumRyME8QhSOq4Etz3IofotjvR_dgBVi_neoQ5Ew/s1600/505.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537341033999376322" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia9m_cWZ8GXCYI1wswFYYwhKfNodFZz_82XhNl_htepi0A_aNBLI29zoC65DE4-LaafgNkUufOZ1_NUemln42deH-Ov9knYkP-QgUumRyME8QhSOq4Etz3IofotjvR_dgBVi_neoQ5Ew/s400/505.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEzTcF5mDv-0_CsdFu3pDlb6KvTIgIciSE1_t_3F5iQ52zTMSDbskJwSMp_tmy0rcZUGjkMpy-ZruSfQj-NzTwunWOCWVlHS8el43WvbSFk67-_RVO-_cptHVLBWX6kSzk5F5MP9JhVw/s1600/506.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537340955648633490" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEzTcF5mDv-0_CsdFu3pDlb6KvTIgIciSE1_t_3F5iQ52zTMSDbskJwSMp_tmy0rcZUGjkMpy-ZruSfQj-NzTwunWOCWVlHS8el43WvbSFk67-_RVO-_cptHVLBWX6kSzk5F5MP9JhVw/s400/506.jpg" /></a>We’ll probably have 100’s of these by the time we get home, but each one just seems so amazing, I like to record it along with the rest of our memories.<br /><br />We finished this last week off with a trip back up to Sasa’ai, where we’ve been making a lot of family visits with the Ward Mission Leader, Konofese, as well as attending their Sunday meetings for a few weeks. We noticed as we attended the Sasa’ai sacrament meeting and then the Moesavili meeting later in the day in the same building, that the organ was being played in both wards by the current full-time sister missionary, Sister La’ule. When I asked her about it, she told me they had no other pianists in both of those wards with enough experience to play in church. I mentioned to her that I was teaching a piano class down in the McKay ward and wondered if they could use one up there to help get some organists prepared to take over when Sister La’ule gets transferred. She suggested we visit with the bishops and ward music chairmen of both wards and see if there is any interest, as long as I am here and have been sent along on our mission with materials to teach keyboard and conducting classes. Both bishops were very enthused with the idea and we will be meeting with both wards this week to get the class started. Our intension was to have one combined class for both wards, with maybe 4 or 5 from each ward. Amazingly we had over 25 people attend the meeting who wanted to take the class. I knew that there was only one working piano available at that time and how I could teach a class with that many was beyond me. It was finally decided that we would split the class into two classes, one for each ward. We did have to limit the number or people eligible at that time, because there were a few younger children there, who couldn’t speak English and I knew that would be a problem. We explained to them that they needed to be 14 years old, unless they had a parent or older sibling taking the class as well that could help translate and help them practice at home. About two in each class fell into that category. I felt bad to disappoint the others, but we explained that this would only be the first such class and that as soon as I had trained others to teach the course after I’m gone, they would be able to teach the younger children in Samoan, even though the lesson books are all in English.<br /><br />After the meeting, while we were talking to one bishop’s wife who will be taking the class and is coordinating it for her ward, John asked how in the world I’d ever be able to teach so many people with just one piano, and all of them expected to practice every day. We had enough problems in the other ward with just 11 students and 5 pianos. I just shook my head and said “I have absolutely no idea, but we’ll just have to hope for a miracle.” The Bishop’s wife gave me a ‘thumbs up’ and I hope we’re right about the miracle.<br /><br />Well, the miracle happened. I had been in contact with the Church Music department who had sent me more copies of the keyboard course kit. I had a couple of cheap little roll-up pianos, one that I had brought with me and another that I had shipped, but they were beginning to malfunction. I realized that I should probably buy my own small keyboard so as to have at least one other instrument available to the classes. Finding that there were none available here in Samoa, I tried on line to find some in New Zealand, where the families in the first ward, who had their own keyboards, had purchased them. The only thing I could find on line in New Zealand was a site where I could bid on used keyboards, which I’d have no idea about whether they were in working order. I decided to call Diane Bastian on the skype, who is the sister in the Church Music Department who had sent me the extra copies of the lesson books, and asked if she could recommend a keyboard that I could buy that would work down here. She informed me that the same Harman Grant fund that had provided the books, could also supply a few practice keyboards for us at no charge. I asked “What do you mean by a few?” She nonchalantly said that she could probably provide at least 6 if we needed them. Because we had just had word that all the shipping and mailing procedures in the mission had been changed, I was not able to place an order at that time, but told her I would email her with details. When I found that the shipping procedure from the States had not changed, I sent her an email and asked if it would be possible to send the 6 keyboards, along with keyboard course lesson books and adapters for each, and gave her the shipping instructions. When I didn’t hear back from her after a week, I got nervous that maybe it wasn’t going to happen, so I tried to call her again, only to find she was in meetings all day. The lady I talked to suggested I send her an email asking my questions, which I did that very day. After a couple of days, when we went back to the internet café to send and pick up new messages, there was a message from her saying that 8, yes 8, new keyboards, plus books and adaptors, had been ordered on Oct. 11, at no charge to us and we were to let them know when we had received them. WOW!! That was our miracle and just what we’ll need to make these classes realistically possible. It will take a few weeks to get them, but just knowing they’re coming will make the next few lessons tolerable. I’ll be able to leave three in some homes in each ward for daily practice and keep two for the other class, and then gather them all up on class days, so that we’ll have ten available for the classes. Halleluiah!! It will certainly take some extra running around to gather up and deliver the keyboards, but we’re happy to be able to do it, knowing we’ll have what we need for each class.<br /><br />Moving along, as I was visiting with the one Bishop and his wife, she asked if there was any kind of an activity that we could do for their young men/young women at mutual. We told her about some of the things we’ve already done in other wards, like a dance class, dating seminar, or music conducting, etc. When she heard that we had taught one group how to waltz, she jumped on that and we set a date to come last Friday night to the Bishop’s house, where they had a computer with all kinds of music downloaded on it, and a very large room to teach the class in. We went up Thursday evening to go over the music ahead of time, and found she had a lot of really good waltz music. That made our job simple. When we taught the waltz class before, finding the right type of music with ¾ time was a challenge.<br /><br />When we asked how many mutual kids would be there, she said probably about 30. When we got there on Friday evening, there were only about 8 girls and 1 guy when they started mutual, which made a little difficulty in terms of dancing partners. By the time their opening exercise was over and we had started teaching them the basic waltz step from a diagram on a blackboard, others started trickling in, on Samoan time as usual, and we ended up with about 14 couples. Now, ballroom dancing is not a common thing for Samoans to do, especially where boy and girl dance together in dance position. I think I talked before about our first dating seminar, and what a challenge it had been because Samoans don’t date or demonstrate any kind of affection to the opposite sex in public, like holding hands, or arms around each other, etc. Once we had taught the individuals the steps, we kind of paired them up opposite each other so that the boys would be waltzing forward and the girls backward and their feet would work together. We had them take each others’ hands at first, and they seemed to have no problem with that. They stumbled over each other a little in the beginning, trying to get the hang of moving their feet opposite each other, and then introduced the waltz position with hands on shoulders and waist and other hands being held. They took that in their stride as well, and started to do fairly well together just doing a plain square box in a waltz step. Then we had them move across the floor, with the boys pushing the girls backward all the way, and then started turning them a little so they could move around the floor. We had them change partners quite often so that the tall girls didn’t always have to dance with the little short boys. Then we did some different varieties of partner changing like a snowball, starting with one couple dancing until the music stops, and then those two splitting up and asking someone else to dance, and again and again until all were dancing. Then we had them form two circles, boys on the outside and girls on the inside. They started dancing with the person by them in the circle and then when the music stopped, the girls would stand still and the boys would move on to the next partner, and continue doing that all around the circle. This was all new stuff for them and they really seemed to enjoy it. We were a couple of boys short, but some of the girls were more than happy to take a turn as a boy. It’s not like we are these great dance teachers, but we know enough elementary steps to make us look like pros to these inexperienced dancers. It was great fun. We had to slip out a little early in order to get back down to Salelologa for the MTC class, but the kids were still dancing when we left.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnBIJTd5tzSiycdw9HHis0pzjQQYQWi3R68fTzVCZN6Vwlb1SvqAXO5NbMNiik3DcDk0PoHPUxwJxGhceYN0SAA9J6M8YExHFdXtW9BrS_v4DK8F8tyXIYFzMrdco7QF9bNpW_PKy7vQ/s1600/296.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537340894538894386" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnBIJTd5tzSiycdw9HHis0pzjQQYQWi3R68fTzVCZN6Vwlb1SvqAXO5NbMNiik3DcDk0PoHPUxwJxGhceYN0SAA9J6M8YExHFdXtW9BrS_v4DK8F8tyXIYFzMrdco7QF9bNpW_PKy7vQ/s400/296.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj057OADbRDg1DUO1RTKw0dioJMPdphZbJFZ8eMjooFsD2jlHt4Tet4JM-S4xzooWpATzoqRHvfek8LOJ7cdvCgeTwozG9wAOpo9h607xRufWs99zPCSJXqo_-BHR93PG4VNrv2_bEBIw/s1600/297.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537340841926964770" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj057OADbRDg1DUO1RTKw0dioJMPdphZbJFZ8eMjooFsD2jlHt4Tet4JM-S4xzooWpATzoqRHvfek8LOJ7cdvCgeTwozG9wAOpo9h607xRufWs99zPCSJXqo_-BHR93PG4VNrv2_bEBIw/s400/297.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF-2FRdDxaWZ3dV1VKgHWrznjMqRbHQ-_HgKcfXpODpENFxX6F7LOCeIDj_Ab3VjHcq-EFZWSZadx1iaYl0z29LO8glyz76uWpYq_oqok-R6TSKhJVN_cZ93DiA4CAK8cGu1zsvkXsbg/s1600/303.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537340777705740258" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF-2FRdDxaWZ3dV1VKgHWrznjMqRbHQ-_HgKcfXpODpENFxX6F7LOCeIDj_Ab3VjHcq-EFZWSZadx1iaYl0z29LO8glyz76uWpYq_oqok-R6TSKhJVN_cZ93DiA4CAK8cGu1zsvkXsbg/s400/303.jpg" /></a>Here are just a few pictures I snapped while they were dancing.<br /><br />As we left the Bishop’s house and walked back to our car, we had to walk through an open fale where there were several men working on a dugout canoe, carving it from one large tree trunk. We stopped to watch them for a few minutes and were amazed at their expertise using these funny little carving tools, that looked kind of like a short hoe, with the sides bent in and then sharpened to scoop out the wood chips from the inside of the canoe. They had just started this the day before and would probably finish it that evening. They took turns working on the carving and then took a rest with a game of checkers while the others carved for awhile. Of course, there was also a big pot of hot cocoa Samoa being passed around to add to the fun. They were all having a wonderful time, and carving out a functional fishing boat in the process.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje29kkO_Ccd5ImR6KpVORryS89msv4JbNDUGicCzd_fRY8EZsbU4c9dkrFFBtcnvtBEJjqTbyIjzdqPpnRXjlPVmF-Atq_AuyafBPEAkwS1GPexFSNorQ5RsJX4NOfoH-VJc06MQO5eA/s1600/291.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537340732522016242" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje29kkO_Ccd5ImR6KpVORryS89msv4JbNDUGicCzd_fRY8EZsbU4c9dkrFFBtcnvtBEJjqTbyIjzdqPpnRXjlPVmF-Atq_AuyafBPEAkwS1GPexFSNorQ5RsJX4NOfoH-VJc06MQO5eA/s400/291.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN5QUYENwIQoghgTU7Tmxy4_9NROHLMiZpgX-6pYTdMQU_cy3wKr2Ov09MG0wsvpsmXt0JqK-0nAiVY0w7jONdxuSTb7JZbmZpkNLEgwzgts4eSqDv5DVvPueNaIy7Kxbp4qr6qt1JiA/s1600/293.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537340686867939666" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN5QUYENwIQoghgTU7Tmxy4_9NROHLMiZpgX-6pYTdMQU_cy3wKr2Ov09MG0wsvpsmXt0JqK-0nAiVY0w7jONdxuSTb7JZbmZpkNLEgwzgts4eSqDv5DVvPueNaIy7Kxbp4qr6qt1JiA/s400/293.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2IaQ8iFIj4hyQkrKMbi0JyY-JNGJmGCd8WDe9PiVzP4qmtaE5-WVmG_W_5QYLczxew7Y8trs71HAgHQwkueGxrGFYyoJj-_0JV77LSXG3_kb9-AGR1P4mb8CUbMeKAz4G_2Q_YwDvNw/s1600/294.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537340644798746050" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2IaQ8iFIj4hyQkrKMbi0JyY-JNGJmGCd8WDe9PiVzP4qmtaE5-WVmG_W_5QYLczxew7Y8trs71HAgHQwkueGxrGFYyoJj-_0JV77LSXG3_kb9-AGR1P4mb8CUbMeKAz4G_2Q_YwDvNw/s400/294.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirvTeB16tJflg8Mj2L3lf8UvpIlgLXGT7a09A-jG22cLb6ArEXl8WrGg4g2MAfyMdzjEITsYn9PhcQUK5B3m8OoMYD_o_5mBxy3evTQCP9p6QlwttP4TT-9AXjJAWMlGIRc4c6gQpv3Q/s1600/305.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537340550286294690" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirvTeB16tJflg8Mj2L3lf8UvpIlgLXGT7a09A-jG22cLb6ArEXl8WrGg4g2MAfyMdzjEITsYn9PhcQUK5B3m8OoMYD_o_5mBxy3evTQCP9p6QlwttP4TT-9AXjJAWMlGIRc4c6gQpv3Q/s400/305.jpg" /></a>They loved having me take their pictures both carving and playing checkers<br /><br />We went straight from there to the MTC class, where there were about 20 potential missionaries in attendance. We took 9 of them to another room, 5 young men and 4 young women who had mission calls to English speaking missions, and we worked with them on the English lessons and scriptures. Three of the girls were going to California, one to Ohio, and the boys were divided up going to Salt Lake city, New Zealand and Australia. It’s fun to help get them a little more prepared for their missions, and for the different Formal MTC training they’ll get in Provo or New Zealand. Our pre-mission experiences volunteering at the MTC in Provo, have been a big help to us in teaching them a little of what to expect when they get there. Fortunately, they all speak pretty fair English already, but have a lot more to learn in terms of missionary lessons, and casual everyday English conversations. They’ll all be experiencing winter for the first time, and that will be a rude awakening for them, but I think they are looking forward to these new experiences in a new culture, and a little nervous too.<br /><br />These young adults are so sharp. They were all pretty avid seminary and institute attendees and really know their scriptures, of which they have an amazing number already memorized. Memorizing is an incredible gift the Samoans have. I guess for centuries nothing was written down and all the family histories, etc., were memorized and passed on to the next generation. The children started memorizing English primary songs and hymns at a really young age, even though most of the younger ones don’t start learning English in school until 6th grade or so. We love working with these young people, especially since it can mostly be done in English, putting me in more of a comfort zone.<br /><br />Speaking of English, we spent the last two days going to Stake conference meetings, where everything is translated from Samoan into English and English into Samoan, because most general authorities who come are English speakers, though many come from other foreign countries. I was given headphones at the beginning of each session and happily listened to two different interpreters share the messages of the conference. This is such a nice treat for me, because I sit through soooooo many meetings where nothing but Samoan is spoken and I have a long way to go before I’ll be able to understand everything. Even though I’ve learned a lot of words and phrases, and can read and understand a lot of Samoan, when the Samoans speak so softly and so fast, my brain just doesn’t keep up. It doesn’t depress me or put me to sleep like it did in the beginning, because I know enough to be able to listen for words I know and catch a few ideas here and there. In Sunday School and Relief Society, I have English lesson books which really help me to keep up with some of it.<br /><br />This conference was just an amazing experience and we still feel a little of the glow from it. Of course, the musical performances were spectacular, as usual. There was a large choir from one ward, almost 80 members, who sang some really beautiful arrangements of hymns. The best one was my favorite primary song, “As I have Loved you”, all in English. It started with a little primary girl about 8 years old singing a solo at the microphone and the choir humming background music. After a nice chord change in the accompaniment, the whole choir joined in, in English, and then again in Samoan.<br /><br />(Pics missing??) As is often the case, the choir comes all dressed in identical dresses and white shirts and matching ties, this time a pretty aqua, trimmed in black. The choirs are so large, they have to sit on the first several rows of the congregation, because there is absolutely no room for them in the “choir seats”. They took up the first 8 rows of benches, with about ten across each row. I don’t know why this impresses me so much--probably because I’ve been a choir director for years and have been lucky to fill even half the choir seats on the stand. These Samoan choirs would be a dream come true for any choir director, not only because of their numbers, but because of their natural singing ability.<br /><br />Some of the inactive families that we’ve visited were in attendance, to our delight, and a couple of the men were presented for ordination as elders. For those of you reading this blog who are not members, you must get tired of hearing all this Mormon jargon, but becoming an elder is a huge step toward deep spiritual activity in the church and exercising this new priesthood in leading their wives and children toward a stronger unity within their families and with the Lord, bringing peace and contentment in their homes.<br /><br />Please forgive all our references to LDS Jargon, but this is what our mission is all about and we hope you understand what a joy it is for us to serve these incredible people and help them to come to Christ.<br /><br />After the conference session today, we were invited to join the guests of honor and the stake presidency and their families in a delicious feast, where there was way too much food as usual, and certainly enough that was appealing to me, in spite of the octopus and other dishes I’m not accustomed to yet. There were so many leftovers, that each of us was sent home with a plate of food for another meal tomorrow, also a common Samoan practice.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6Zhwpyl3Gyff9XRfwhZfKhLFbcNuVyIvgOyit0z_j5mmNYpfFtkWdJhzvG0iAHVn0yFvwkG3jdUeiqR0u0knr6AQnNhq1LC6fprSAg-1nUDd4gzPL1SsMzg7uXTHNXDmmKylJnYsLKA/s1600/390.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537339912836998786" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6Zhwpyl3Gyff9XRfwhZfKhLFbcNuVyIvgOyit0z_j5mmNYpfFtkWdJhzvG0iAHVn0yFvwkG3jdUeiqR0u0knr6AQnNhq1LC6fprSAg-1nUDd4gzPL1SsMzg7uXTHNXDmmKylJnYsLKA/s400/390.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGdwVKfzumsS3S6-ASnyf-DaFGQlf1mUJpiO4UkikhJb9ngXDkwGDHCe7BMsIs5IrA-uqSztKNfi7xerPzrsmq0kENJT0ug4tNxdpXdPKQ0ZQeshlSr0NH7z4k35QZIrlGLwluA6bv-g/s1600/395.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537339854974168450" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGdwVKfzumsS3S6-ASnyf-DaFGQlf1mUJpiO4UkikhJb9ngXDkwGDHCe7BMsIs5IrA-uqSztKNfi7xerPzrsmq0kENJT0ug4tNxdpXdPKQ0ZQeshlSr0NH7z4k35QZIrlGLwluA6bv-g/s400/395.jpg" /></a>Another choice experience we had last Sunday was to attend the LMS church White Sunday service presided over by our good friends Reverend Esera and his wife Tamara. I’m not sure why it’s called White Sunday, but it’s celebrated all over Samoa in all the churches and is a time when people travel from far and wide to be with their families in other places. The big difference in the service is that the preacher doesn’t preach, but the whole program is put on by all the children and young people of their congregation. They’ve been practicing for weeks for these performances and a lot of work was spent making costumes, etc. There must have been over 250 children performing, and like the primary programs at home, each child had an individual part and they put their heart and soul into performing it.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje-QegNmis0n5MsSNKnGOEp3NKEK_cn0lBWlsA0GACkGPb84I-nr7p8ntJ1Gw-i21ujsXFY9heLRp9g_IxKcRjHyEakgEX2V8YN1WMIsR0Sh-6_CUrntz3VkhPFIxIXsOO4dt1cU8zHA/s1600/421.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537339387283796594" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje-QegNmis0n5MsSNKnGOEp3NKEK_cn0lBWlsA0GACkGPb84I-nr7p8ntJ1Gw-i21ujsXFY9heLRp9g_IxKcRjHyEakgEX2V8YN1WMIsR0Sh-6_CUrntz3VkhPFIxIXsOO4dt1cU8zHA/s400/421.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGUGck4CmXQRqTgwW9k8L3jqODl8J4FoEEOEpdqoeMCuK_Mdo8GdqHKN53XL1MoSEpNB3Z9E5b8DEFuWAysflLAmChVGhQ-_8b6Cc5v-IId4ETsM_PYjR61aO0jwPhPVLTpmM3opTM3g/s1600/422.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537339275913692178" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGUGck4CmXQRqTgwW9k8L3jqODl8J4FoEEOEpdqoeMCuK_Mdo8GdqHKN53XL1MoSEpNB3Z9E5b8DEFuWAysflLAmChVGhQ-_8b6Cc5v-IId4ETsM_PYjR61aO0jwPhPVLTpmM3opTM3g/s400/422.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3zov6_18W6ooCrcZ27Ek1p8W8kp1i_JF_3wQZ145i3zl3iuSXzynSs13lNnBdvszHVxBQHiHta3w_LR5XC_fFWC_dt4ib6Dnbvv_ZAphOfIGLQgCOerYjog83jboYHc8vLVW5Nb1xOA/s1600/432.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537339208703963298" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3zov6_18W6ooCrcZ27Ek1p8W8kp1i_JF_3wQZ145i3zl3iuSXzynSs13lNnBdvszHVxBQHiHta3w_LR5XC_fFWC_dt4ib6Dnbvv_ZAphOfIGLQgCOerYjog83jboYHc8vLVW5Nb1xOA/s400/432.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv_e7NQVkWh02DOlcXK0Xe863Orkj4L-UbNAqAT5YOTMfCO_sVysfKS-HI3D7AaM61mf7ZTRXetLKxtls6JrbpJhHg1rZABMm7K9QzYbDN_OnIZMZlRPvSYP6NWryBYpr71jSPw3D_9Q/s1600/436.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537339154550859858" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv_e7NQVkWh02DOlcXK0Xe863Orkj4L-UbNAqAT5YOTMfCO_sVysfKS-HI3D7AaM61mf7ZTRXetLKxtls6JrbpJhHg1rZABMm7K9QzYbDN_OnIZMZlRPvSYP6NWryBYpr71jSPw3D_9Q/s400/436.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif4snYSO2cGc7PlqHMF5BeGMv4Vgz8AZuE3xPqeXlLHpBtZSZlREgi_mnT5D0KctE7AWLCfGZIikJBUym4ooyTbfRRWryE7F6Y6hcHENoFxraYASLvFv5IGsFCBk_2IZTbFz9f8Te7og/s1600/449.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537339049891703522" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif4snYSO2cGc7PlqHMF5BeGMv4Vgz8AZuE3xPqeXlLHpBtZSZlREgi_mnT5D0KctE7AWLCfGZIikJBUym4ooyTbfRRWryE7F6Y6hcHENoFxraYASLvFv5IGsFCBk_2IZTbFz9f8Te7og/s400/449.jpg" /></a>The costumes were pretty flashy, and each part portrayed some special bible story.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSGR8WQ_y1ajaWPRMoE-NAqjvINIof2yXBf99v535NVEiuxmeFBu7OsgXRuqPmC7czWqa2juagJ2pbdOVDVzDOqqCNy73IRAQia2BGOOa7KpFhbsPeTeMxnwdcaiFg-aQTMI9wgpbGBQ/s1600/383.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537338995822973650" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSGR8WQ_y1ajaWPRMoE-NAqjvINIof2yXBf99v535NVEiuxmeFBu7OsgXRuqPmC7czWqa2juagJ2pbdOVDVzDOqqCNy73IRAQia2BGOOa7KpFhbsPeTeMxnwdcaiFg-aQTMI9wgpbGBQ/s400/383.jpg" /></a>Before the program began, there was a special baptism ceremony performed where Esera baptized three small children by scooping water from a special carved wood stand and bowl and sprinkling the babies’ foreheads.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJjifVSEskYjkpx8txvfGXMswYb5ZSHYY3xP7IBzytzVI2Y5HI0PBO7M9twn5f-qik4byi4ON0PA7Li5QENgrCzphDV6dzl12kyqRTa_BcVhfd3yg7QzUpgndTfOww-WdUaQMziI2ygg/s1600/374.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537338933867690914" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJjifVSEskYjkpx8txvfGXMswYb5ZSHYY3xP7IBzytzVI2Y5HI0PBO7M9twn5f-qik4byi4ON0PA7Li5QENgrCzphDV6dzl12kyqRTa_BcVhfd3yg7QzUpgndTfOww-WdUaQMziI2ygg/s400/374.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-Wkyjn2Ps381sZFdVn-akzIcMJSSkjBYfB1MY5-ih03V3h21n9leRIn7yPrYP9b8eLTBPMv1BQn_NgVYm9PrmQIxE9XqHTiCoaoVlIH39axcMeFDJZk1moBUWxupr2hyphenhyphenUeMdOX9Orag/s1600/380.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537338891413666418" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-Wkyjn2Ps381sZFdVn-akzIcMJSSkjBYfB1MY5-ih03V3h21n9leRIn7yPrYP9b8eLTBPMv1BQn_NgVYm9PrmQIxE9XqHTiCoaoVlIH39axcMeFDJZk1moBUWxupr2hyphenhyphenUeMdOX9Orag/s400/380.jpg" /></a>The picture I captured of one beautiful little baby girl, who sat right in front of us, was so precious. She was all dressed up for her baptism in a white lacey dress, plus a bonnet that had been put on upside-down by American Standards. They had a hard time keeping it on her and had to keep adjusting it, even during the baptism.<br /><br />We truly enjoyed the whole program and could see how much work it had taken to do rehearsals and costumes.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD0eOsi6QKVrHN4eLlZtzZE_gmhe8qZ8G753UBCGMb4kuobIXdaSc1W5AeDKP-8s1KYDAapilK1rv1ydK78NMkVk4uEtcG_D1kcrziARGnt0v5cntqbKmbgbhVZ33fU_Tvy_dzu3gXqQ/s1600/360.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537338830979071090" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD0eOsi6QKVrHN4eLlZtzZE_gmhe8qZ8G753UBCGMb4kuobIXdaSc1W5AeDKP-8s1KYDAapilK1rv1ydK78NMkVk4uEtcG_D1kcrziARGnt0v5cntqbKmbgbhVZ33fU_Tvy_dzu3gXqQ/s400/360.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXjFRoNAwh8mn7m9rkJ5udS0dtuZOvongc4qJD-TT2GB-e_m72d9Yk1gorJRJGn7AECW1-mVDwnw1vt4LDAp39zlN3kFywMa9ATECZGCgo5L83x9m0HyySvtKXWOvj5A52wWW7cgv8nA/s1600/369.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537338775498597058" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXjFRoNAwh8mn7m9rkJ5udS0dtuZOvongc4qJD-TT2GB-e_m72d9Yk1gorJRJGn7AECW1-mVDwnw1vt4LDAp39zlN3kFywMa9ATECZGCgo5L83x9m0HyySvtKXWOvj5A52wWW7cgv8nA/s400/369.jpg" /></a> These are pictures I took of Esera and Tamara during the service. They are both very handsome and distinguished people, and we love them dearly. Esera’s wife Tamara, was responsible for preparing all the younger children for their parts, having to make sure that each child could shine for their parents’ benefit. There were probably about 100 of the small ones and poor Tamara was worn out by the time the program was over. We had a curious call from her a few days earlier, asking if she could come over and talk to us privately, without her husband. She seemed upset and we nearly went nuts wondering what it was all about. We figured that maybe the powers that be at their church had thought they were spending too much time with the Palagi Mormon Missionaries and she was going to tell us that they had to curtail our friendship a little. She wanted us to pick her up and take her to our house to talk, which seemed strange also. We had a little prayer before we went to pick her up, asking that whatever the problem was that we would be inspired to react in a Christ-like way, showing love and understanding. We were saddened by the possibilities we had imagined, because we so cherished the friendship we had developed with them. To our great relief, when we all got sat down at our place, she confided that she had been terribly sick and depressed trying to get this program ready to everyone’s satisfaction and had had a bad attack of some sort at her morning aerobics class that left her weak and breathless. She’d gone to the doctor, who said her blood pressure was up and she had some bronchitis, or something, and sent her home with some meds and told her to go to bed for a few days. She knows John has a medical background of sorts and wanted his opinion on her symptoms, and she wanted to unload some of her worries on some good friends who were not members of her husband’s congregation. We felt touched that she trusted us enough to share her problem with us. She had been quite ill physically that day and Esera had to leave and be gone all day for a funeral across the island, and the longer she stayed home alone the more depressed she got, until she finally called us. Her attack reminded me somewhat of an anxiety attack I’ve had a time or two when stresses mounted up, and I think that relieved her a little. We had a moving visit with her, and had prepared a simple supper of beef stew and garlic bread, which she really seemed to enjoy, especially the garlic bread. It was something new to her, and she must have eaten about ten pieces. In the realm of comfort food (and I know all there is to know about comfort food) I’d say good garlic bread sits pretty high on the list. She was anxious to know how to make it and share it with Esera, so I sent along some of the leftover butter mixed with a garlic bread mix that I brought from Utah, so that she could make some at home.<br /><br />During dinner I told her I think that she does so much hard work as a pastor’s wife, in probably the biggest church on the island, that she’s left absolutely no time for herself. She agreed, but felt guilty and selfish about it. John explained that she needed some balance in her life and told her that she could be of better service to others, if she served herself a little first. It was decided that she and I would take a day off every couple of weeks and go off somewhere for lunch and a long visit. We made a date for that and when I took her home, she was in pretty good spirits; and we were so happy to know that the friendship was still very much in tact.<br /><br />We had our lunch date last week, where I picked her up and we went to a very nice hotel that has a dining room overlooking the most beautiful beach across the road. We went about 11:00, had a lengthy visit and a very leisurely lunch, probably about 3 hours long. It was a great outing for both of us. We’ll be doing it again in a couple of weeks and this time she will pick me up and decide where we will go. I was surprised, because I didn’t think she could even drive, since most drivers in Samoa are men. I just assumed that about her because we’ve always seen her with Esera driving. They’re actually both very well educated, mostly outside of Samoa, and I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. We’ve become very dear friends and she feels like a sister to me. It will be difficult to leave her behind when we go home. They do go to Utah to visit her brother every once in a while, and I’m hoping we’ll have a chance to see them when they make that trip again.<br /><br />One day when John and I were in the local store, we ran into a group of elders who were hunting for something to eat for lunch. They told us they had just come from a local hotel where they heard they could get pizza, so they had been saving up their money for a special meal. When they got to the hotel, they found they only had pizza at night and that wouldn’t work for a P-day (preparation day when the missionaries have a little time off to do something special, as well as their laundry, letter writing, etc.). We’ve been to that hotel for pizza and it’s fair. We told them so and said that we could fix some pretty good pizza for them on their next P-day. We spent most of the morning that next week making four very large pizzas and they were actually pretty good. Several of these elders are going home soon and I don’t believe they’ve had pizza in the past two years. It seemed like a real treat for them and a lot of fun (and work) for us to provide it for them.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJejS3Lql7A2koh78C4UyTyftwwKuD6YuStSKAmPvCsGfkGdUfmKZrEVwe6wsLGVOxEsTJ-3ze9VN1olj2LLB0oVEjwv2ibRJikdgaKtktTp3oAM0-P0lWG1D63tEnBKcy4u65hCmP1A/s1600/288.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537338701245102738" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJejS3Lql7A2koh78C4UyTyftwwKuD6YuStSKAmPvCsGfkGdUfmKZrEVwe6wsLGVOxEsTJ-3ze9VN1olj2LLB0oVEjwv2ibRJikdgaKtktTp3oAM0-P0lWG1D63tEnBKcy4u65hCmP1A/s400/288.jpg" /></a>I didn’t think about taking pictures until all the pizza was gone, but we at least got these pictures of the three Palagi elders who were leaving the end of October. As usual, we’ve gotten pretty attached to them, and hope we’ll run into them again at a Samoan reunion after we get back home ourselves.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilsJMNIVU84ZTwqPW3gdPoSWKTsnOB9FWB318eXNBARB5THwseuMwectIc5taNO9vfYGn5e_Ls1MPoxLuLtLiuzvG647vMHGsq6f7Lzak5CLp5Yhv8hi-FtQRvpbTJEcLt59Ruf2rLXg/s1600/309.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537338641512837746" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilsJMNIVU84ZTwqPW3gdPoSWKTsnOB9FWB318eXNBARB5THwseuMwectIc5taNO9vfYGn5e_Ls1MPoxLuLtLiuzvG647vMHGsq6f7Lzak5CLp5Yhv8hi-FtQRvpbTJEcLt59Ruf2rLXg/s400/309.jpg" /></a>On another day while we were eating lunch at our place, we heard a clucking sound and realized that we had some uninvited guests in the house. This hen, with her chicks, had been pecking and feeding in the yard and decided to come on in our open door to see what they could find in here. We keep the door open most of the day to get as much air as we can, but other things can get in besides the air. It’s not unusual to be visiting at someone else’s fale and have a hen and her chicks wander in and right across between us and those we’re visiting, and no one thinks much about it. We’re learning to take it in our stride.<br /><br />The first piano class we started a few months ago in the McKay Ward where we live, is still moving along. The numbers have dwindled from 11 to about 8 and I’m glad for that. The kids who are still coming seem pretty serious about keeping it up. They certainly don’t get their practicing in every day, which is evident at each lesson, but they are making some progress and hopefully the Ward will benefit by a few of them becoming accompanists some day. We still have to double up on the pianos, which slows us down, but hopefully we can move along faster once I get the new keyboards from the Church.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpO5UC75BeyQ0ysvs47Urt06xqiBuPszDeKSwwWs29l6R8ZUQm7iBI0wAa3lSY7OzJipSR21fJFHm-cFaY9spRtOEDHZ4PZwS6Z9mqF4NGzJBgwKmil4xvqrcYOOdynHVs2mw3yJK4ZQ/s1600/316.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537338599267129650" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpO5UC75BeyQ0ysvs47Urt06xqiBuPszDeKSwwWs29l6R8ZUQm7iBI0wAa3lSY7OzJipSR21fJFHm-cFaY9spRtOEDHZ4PZwS6Z9mqF4NGzJBgwKmil4xvqrcYOOdynHVs2mw3yJK4ZQ/s400/316.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrLxPvpG5abFtFLkibj5iYoI1chhhD7DjX3a8W52Yh2LlqWjkq_rCrPRiUf-YnAEN2_arFnkeTJA7A1kiIUFGb4Ga8SmcYEV51_v2WpdbGVSsLdI61ziB9S3ZjE-7RejaA2kO7FJfiRw/s1600/321.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537338558254586098" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrLxPvpG5abFtFLkibj5iYoI1chhhD7DjX3a8W52Yh2LlqWjkq_rCrPRiUf-YnAEN2_arFnkeTJA7A1kiIUFGb4Ga8SmcYEV51_v2WpdbGVSsLdI61ziB9S3ZjE-7RejaA2kO7FJfiRw/s400/321.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJIQICu2VIPjaA1vmDK3J1Fj8TTE-A75YcHBuBT9xDt3BkYt3H2xP8mwKWuBwhdw_v4XdRrLKCQTWX9R7Kdrpmg2Qg5FNTDbI-H8nyDQcpVmDN1kjC9neDXvVGmfixxilaC7pTaZKqUA/s1600/326.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537338513543093346" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJIQICu2VIPjaA1vmDK3J1Fj8TTE-A75YcHBuBT9xDt3BkYt3H2xP8mwKWuBwhdw_v4XdRrLKCQTWX9R7Kdrpmg2Qg5FNTDbI-H8nyDQcpVmDN1kjC9neDXvVGmfixxilaC7pTaZKqUA/s400/326.jpg" /></a>John is so good to help me get the tables and chairs set up and pianos hooked up, and then sits patiently for 1-1/2 hours for the class and then helps clean up. We’re good friends with most of these kids because they were in our first English class earlier in our mission. We’re hoping to have some of them prepare some simple Christmas carols to be performed around Christmastime at church or a ward party. Since we’ll hopefully have the new keyboards by then, we can do a whole chorus of piano players playing together. That’s the dream anyway and hopefully we can make it work.<br /><br />I do enjoy these classes and even the two new ones where we have large numbers, 19 in one and 16 in the other, where we’re getting along okay with just the one piano in the chapel and one other keyboard that we were able to rig a plug for. The two pianos seemed like a real luxury after a couple of weeks with only one piano. I have some pretty good helpers in these two new classes and so I’m able to split them up in two different rooms where they get more time on the piano, even though they have to play it along with one or two other players. With the two pianos at the church, and the 8 new ones coming, the classes will just be a joy, after what we’ve had to do so far. We’re making it work, though, and know it will get better.<br /><br />We get to the big market once or twice a month, and when we went last time it was the weekend of White Sunday and a really big day at the market.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk_FUuiEq2e_ooonCSRhy5uZcsjsZUUNyBF7_vtS5o2VoH0vLAn26VIGARh_v1q_ppzgwOIY8CueneYRsg5kNUdqINbVENpKht2wgrXGEIFu54yb77x6f-qOUtQ-p1fJghPw72Bf980Q/s1600/342.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537338474003095186" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk_FUuiEq2e_ooonCSRhy5uZcsjsZUUNyBF7_vtS5o2VoH0vLAn26VIGARh_v1q_ppzgwOIY8CueneYRsg5kNUdqINbVENpKht2wgrXGEIFu54yb77x6f-qOUtQ-p1fJghPw72Bf980Q/s400/342.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG6NRc6-j7QpUnqB6OPweZyRcx6B9za4-KTHRaDQeAiHXS806gBlXnUijx9wJRslaOi7WRQWY8X0kHv-rBnlgEW7afhzaoq1s1Fw7Ic6kdsxt7v_lFEfrLMyoQuvlk2hd-3O_kPmBrmA/s1600/349.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537338429765433330" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG6NRc6-j7QpUnqB6OPweZyRcx6B9za4-KTHRaDQeAiHXS806gBlXnUijx9wJRslaOi7WRQWY8X0kHv-rBnlgEW7afhzaoq1s1Fw7Ic6kdsxt7v_lFEfrLMyoQuvlk2hd-3O_kPmBrmA/s400/349.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTlMUE6dJpJGniUQVYcR9DhFA7mMRyNHJxFl43glGf0WcJlHxTMzVWQjPpg4h9T7T6Xct4Spd8x39ADAZ4i_4I1p0ga7vNMTBEIGDGQXb4zGgCIkL8lwRnLDJ_zs6DjbDZhKRsFV9tJQ/s1600/350.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537338382228449250" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTlMUE6dJpJGniUQVYcR9DhFA7mMRyNHJxFl43glGf0WcJlHxTMzVWQjPpg4h9T7T6Xct4Spd8x39ADAZ4i_4I1p0ga7vNMTBEIGDGQXb4zGgCIkL8lwRnLDJ_zs6DjbDZhKRsFV9tJQ/s400/350.jpg" /></a> I snapped a few pictures here and there, including the one of the big fountain out in front of the building that we’ve never seen working before. I guess White Sunday weekend is something really special.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFlkHzcqlpLKfA5_Un9xoK7mJFuK7faKa3nG1-ByjotQ8vgbEnB6zoGzRFL_KK4ZfCI8s3WcAHjTw-8fRuMWUUnnXbmiIB-6YRz6NVVSLA5m4rW0VY8TcdQ_aj4m5u54cSL5cy1Qlfaw/s1600/347.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537338335278403682" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFlkHzcqlpLKfA5_Un9xoK7mJFuK7faKa3nG1-ByjotQ8vgbEnB6zoGzRFL_KK4ZfCI8s3WcAHjTw-8fRuMWUUnnXbmiIB-6YRz6NVVSLA5m4rW0VY8TcdQ_aj4m5u54cSL5cy1Qlfaw/s400/347.jpg" /></a>This picture is of a friend in one of the wards who has a little table set up at the market, where she makes and sells all kinds of Samoan crafts. She’s either a widow or divorcee with several children and this is how she supports them. Her name is Malelega and we’ve bought several things from her. She always seems to find us when we show up at the market, hoping we’ll buy something from her. We usually do, even though we may not really need or want it. Fortunately, she makes typical Samoan fans (also in the picture), which I keep losing, or someone keeps taking, so I always wait to get my next fan from her when I need it; and I’ll tell you, I always need it, either for a fan at church, or a sunshade when we’re out walking around on our visits, or to swat flies wherever we are. Mighty handy little implements, those fans, and they really are inexpensive, even though they’re hand-made. I think most that I’ve purchased were about 6 Tala, which is about $2.60 U.S. I finally printed my name on this last one and we’ll see if I’m able to keep track of it any better.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja_fYmPGRxlP4OeSSZ3xwzkaunI6G-HT3Dr4mhPaPovE2Wwq-901WdAqHsnxqNdT3WwUnRK6mIidEvnQmvGA5tfeCarNU5TxX-OEgC2LQi51NRcb_BNVc3B7XiOi9HY_PEBPM7tw-maw/s1600/352.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537338289155790386" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja_fYmPGRxlP4OeSSZ3xwzkaunI6G-HT3Dr4mhPaPovE2Wwq-901WdAqHsnxqNdT3WwUnRK6mIidEvnQmvGA5tfeCarNU5TxX-OEgC2LQi51NRcb_BNVc3B7XiOi9HY_PEBPM7tw-maw/s400/352.jpg" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-_XFpEAt0vpqCABEPyXZ8V5lg3H6JlDJ2B2GuoWEpQY7CY030QzI1UICKOJIZJJldT-6uaCsn8Ue9NlIqYg-QMvDA_OWDvvMkqBGSuA-Nz5ahMYO5ugkqZyHUY3WbnAeMLZciqgUiUg/s1600/357.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537342621812123426" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-_XFpEAt0vpqCABEPyXZ8V5lg3H6JlDJ2B2GuoWEpQY7CY030QzI1UICKOJIZJJldT-6uaCsn8Ue9NlIqYg-QMvDA_OWDvvMkqBGSuA-Nz5ahMYO5ugkqZyHUY3WbnAeMLZciqgUiUg/s400/357.jpg" /></a>These pictures were taken at a favorite place we go to lunch every once in a while. The small hotel that it’s in looks a little shabby from the front and is on the main busy street just up from the Wharf. It was recommended to us, or I’m not sure we’d have gone there the first time, which we did on our anniversary in June. We were pleasantly surprised when we came around back of the hotel and saw this lovely setting where the dining room is. We were also pleasantly surprised when we had our first meal there. It was really quite delicious. John had the best steak he’s ever had, anywhere he says, and I had a wonderful chicken fetuccini Alfredo, one of my favorite dishes. The only thing about this place is that if you want to go in the evening, you have to make reservations ahead so they will be sure to open up. We were the only ones there the night of our anniversary, and it took over an hour and a half to get our meal. We weren’t in any big hurry, but we were getting really hungry. The food was worth the wait though. You can go anytime for lunch without a reservation, and we have often still been the only ones there. I don’t know how they stay in business, but we really love it there and maybe we’re the ones keeping them open, because we do go quite often because of the lovely surroundings, the really good food and pretty reasonable prices as well.<br /><br />This is being written a couple of weeks later. We decided to go back to that hotel for lunch, and when we drove up a lady came out and told us it was closed and the people had gone to New Zealand. We’re not sure if that was for good, or just temporarily, but as we looked in the windows we saw no tables and chairs at all. We’ll be very disappointed if they don’t open up again, because we really enjoyed our meals there, in spite of the slow service.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhquhEEgCGhYZYKMDS0WXIF1J81S7nLVID5woDys4Xi6LnwNJHoA7ruTyVVWf-UIRCUHtfC0bJniRB6WpGS_Tl9xOSfhxdKuBPWutzboP4m1-YLH_DUPKMRsjK6mS70PYJHORAiPbzXow/s1600/508.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537337772872245810" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhquhEEgCGhYZYKMDS0WXIF1J81S7nLVID5woDys4Xi6LnwNJHoA7ruTyVVWf-UIRCUHtfC0bJniRB6WpGS_Tl9xOSfhxdKuBPWutzboP4m1-YLH_DUPKMRsjK6mS70PYJHORAiPbzXow/s400/508.jpg" /></a> I snapped this picture while waiting our turn at the internet café on a P-day Monday. The place is usually crammed full of elders, as it was on this particular Monday, including Elder Pili in the black shirt. We don’t mind the wait and usually have enough other stuff to do in town that we’re able to come back. Often we have to meet different elders there from around the Island to pick up or deliver mail or meds to them. They’ve had a problem recently of having the Zone leaders deliver the mail, who end up carrying it around in their vans for awhile; or the final straw was when one elder’s new shoes from home ended up in the garbage at the Zone leader’s little house, because when he told his companion to gather up the garbage and take it out, this shoe package was just in a brown bag like their garbage bags, so they got taken out with the garbage. Fortunately, when the mission office called them trying to track down the lost shoes, the zone leader and his companion did a search and sheepishly admitted they had been in the garbage. Soooooo, now there is a new mail policy over here on Savaii and that is that all of the mail comes to us and we have to distribute it personally to each elder, and since some of them live so far around the island, it’s easiest to catch them in town on P-day. They give us their letters to mail home as well and we have to keep track of them until someone comes over from Upolo for one reason or another and can take them back and mail them. I’m nervous about having that responsibility, because I am a little prone to lose things myself and I’d hate to be the culprit that deprives a missionary or his family of their precious mail. Thank heaven they mostly do the email thing, so there aren’t as many letters as there probably used to be.<br /><br />Speaking of me losing things or making blunders, I did a beauty this last week where the mail was concerned. Two weeks ago we had a whole pile of letters for one elder because it was his birthday. Then this week and last week we had all kinds of letters and packages for another new elder that I hadn’t met yet. I asked him last week if it was his birthday and he just politely told me it wasn’t. This week when he received another pile I teased him about the fact that it must be his birthday, which it wasn’t, again. I don’t remember how I found out later that day, but apparently his father had died suddenly, and unexpectedly at age 57, about the second week he was on his mission, less than a month ago. I’d heard about an elder losing his father, but didn’t know who it was until at this Zone meeting the other day. Then I realized why he was getting all this mail and packages from home. I felt so bad after asking him twice if it was his birthday. I apologized later at the meeting and had a nice little visit with him. He was so sweet about it, I just had to give him a hug from an old grandma. Knowing how difficult the first few weeks, and even months, can be for the missionaries in Samoa, and especially over here in Savaii, I can’t even imagine how difficult it has been for him to adjust, with the death of his father on top of the other discomforts most new missionaries face. He says it’s getting easier and preaching the gospel, especially where eternal families are concerned, really puts it all into perspective for him and he’s grateful for that. And I’m grateful that he was so forgiving of my apparent insensitivity.<br /><br />We’ve moved on now to our 8th ward up in Lano. We made contact with the bishop there and he made arrangements for us to do splits with his wife and the ward mission leader. (When I say “splits” it means that John and I split up and I go visiting with one person (Sasa, the bishop’s wife, in this case) and John goes with the ward mission leader. Quite often the elders and sisters will split up and go out with different ward members, especially young men and women who are preparing to go on missions in the near future.) When we visited the Bishop’s fale for the first time, I was so impressed with Sasa's beautiful flower garden that I just had to take pictures.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAhAiJ1lL-znYtN6reH0kquFRUiNvN1clrYNz3qbKI2coeiwGNRpYT-u7RU7G1wUFqlY8LZhi5P8aUHK9OmSuhYmNwHgHHI1C-dhssHxMvupiG7UNrIqHR89b780wFViGFZok4XWC18w/s1600/523.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537337508691804610" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAhAiJ1lL-znYtN6reH0kquFRUiNvN1clrYNz3qbKI2coeiwGNRpYT-u7RU7G1wUFqlY8LZhi5P8aUHK9OmSuhYmNwHgHHI1C-dhssHxMvupiG7UNrIqHR89b780wFViGFZok4XWC18w/s400/523.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA3z35W4AnvrtJnnrG2qlxl_YMhjxu1QghA917xntz2ikX_V1zloy15yUjFQ_4NYCTGqRp0KdGGNRmrCzCrF_eLou70j4n40FcJze7Lpyn0Rm7IQF8Ab1a9GC24WrxHg0bs63tA26uZA/s1600/524.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537337456099920226" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA3z35W4AnvrtJnnrG2qlxl_YMhjxu1QghA917xntz2ikX_V1zloy15yUjFQ_4NYCTGqRp0KdGGNRmrCzCrF_eLou70j4n40FcJze7Lpyn0Rm7IQF8Ab1a9GC24WrxHg0bs63tA26uZA/s400/524.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaZX90_VweREDKN2m3lb4BSCKv1ArdrUEkxlcXTJjcncBE_YFq6d0VHpmAVotTjssFGYyjrqshnIrtELOAPQ95ttdu-hdg-o0yNThxhlJ39SivCgqtV9ArQKYtPnJGmHySOhWfwan_YA/s1600/525.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537337391233230354" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaZX90_VweREDKN2m3lb4BSCKv1ArdrUEkxlcXTJjcncBE_YFq6d0VHpmAVotTjssFGYyjrqshnIrtELOAPQ95ttdu-hdg-o0yNThxhlJ39SivCgqtV9ArQKYtPnJGmHySOhWfwan_YA/s400/525.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcfFzmNlH0g70wNMj2ebVEu34u591FC0GQbVCHVcN3wU5tP0NPiZBKrTT4sD2RVBtKYfBKnfLaJtIoDYcql_pv-qenb1niKRwkEsw7qFp7PCAGgoJDxFoeJMcalYRy5q4ufZhCfloMzg/s1600/526.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537337329557640002" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcfFzmNlH0g70wNMj2ebVEu34u591FC0GQbVCHVcN3wU5tP0NPiZBKrTT4sD2RVBtKYfBKnfLaJtIoDYcql_pv-qenb1niKRwkEsw7qFp7PCAGgoJDxFoeJMcalYRy5q4ufZhCfloMzg/s400/526.jpg" /></a>What’s amazing about these gardens, and we see them all over Samoa, is that they are planted among all the lava rock that is everywhere. The Samoans seem to work around the rock pretty easily, and even use it to their advantage for many, many walls, which we also see everywhere, and to quickly dry their laundry, as you can see in one of these photos. Those black rocks really absorb the heat and are washed almost daily by the prevalent rain storms, so they double quite effectively as clotheslines, and probably even dry the laundry a little faster, which fits in nicely between rainstorms.<br /><br />When we went back to Lano for our visits a few days later, we waited quite a while in vain for the Ward Mission leader and finally went to his house to find him. He apparently wasn’t back from working up in the bush, so the three of us just went ahead with our visits without him. We visited two inactive widows that day, and Sasa insisted that I take their pictures.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNaIYRnGoLcIcti-jLwc2wepS49FX_GB-XppcJWWsDVzt_BDfiIBtts80eJnIfPgh-CUVoUZ7ePsIGBH0a0sLD2AEV7BrmpNKvd373kn1THV_QZ5CN0Uol5obPJ7mRK2jgDzv5UWtvcw/s1600/530.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537337258642841682" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNaIYRnGoLcIcti-jLwc2wepS49FX_GB-XppcJWWsDVzt_BDfiIBtts80eJnIfPgh-CUVoUZ7ePsIGBH0a0sLD2AEV7BrmpNKvd373kn1THV_QZ5CN0Uol5obPJ7mRK2jgDzv5UWtvcw/s400/530.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5Er5W_M3vOohYr3lMhSJAhQ4obw4DrA2iddBFOXOj1RQz_uNe9jmBQMPdNv-0xL99pMaC2Irrgvc0vi85MOHLpSUmQbFESIsF8wk8a0atsrHm6oF-mD2rwZA3zDjzCBndtDzXHNwkUQ/s1600/532.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537337204423426882" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5Er5W_M3vOohYr3lMhSJAhQ4obw4DrA2iddBFOXOj1RQz_uNe9jmBQMPdNv-0xL99pMaC2Irrgvc0vi85MOHLpSUmQbFESIsF8wk8a0atsrHm6oF-mD2rwZA3zDjzCBndtDzXHNwkUQ/s400/532.jpg" /></a> These pictures are of Sasa, in black and white, and Nima, and another photo of Nima sitting on the floor working on weaving a Samoan mat. Nima still feels very strongly about the Church, but she lives so far away and it’s hard for her to walk so far. We offered to pick her up the next Sunday, but she was on her way to Apia to be with a sick daughter. We’ll try that again next week.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMGiLoNWxTVNN49yd_xERuZ1hglGWdSw1qvIinhrGBx92YISBPMi3AvL8HW2uHWHmrdOwk1g-oDsR0aBzBNTqWHbPgyNgOkTHlCdO0_2HSxJQE3bCYm2buzEVD0kmGA5ZhqPqbaC0EQw/s1600/533.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 299px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537349718003995778" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMGiLoNWxTVNN49yd_xERuZ1hglGWdSw1qvIinhrGBx92YISBPMi3AvL8HW2uHWHmrdOwk1g-oDsR0aBzBNTqWHbPgyNgOkTHlCdO0_2HSxJQE3bCYm2buzEVD0kmGA5ZhqPqbaC0EQw/s400/533.jpg" /></a>The other widow we visited was Sita. When we asked if we could take her picture, she insisted that we include her two grandchildren and then took us outside to the porch, which was attached to her husband’s tomb or grave, and wanted their picture of them standing on it. Samoan graves (tombs) are an everyday part of life here in Samoa. They are always very close to the fale, sometimes even inside or often covered with a very elaborate canopy or enclosed glass house of sorts. We see people lounging on them, wet laundry spread out on them, Samoan mat leaves drying on them, and people having their pictures taken on them or by them. I think I mentioned before that being buried on your own property helps you lay claim to that land in a way.<br /></div><div>Well, I think I’m going to call it quits on this blog for now. I actually had several more pages ready, but when I started to add the pictures, I realized there are so many photos to accompany this next section, that it would make this blog segment impossibly long. Soooo we’ll let you have another little rest from our Samoan adventures for a time and I’ll hopefully send this next section off all by itself next week. You won’t be hearing personally from John this time around, simply because I am determined to finish this off, create the email and add the pictures to send on to our daughter, Kelly, who puts it all in order and makes it easy for you to read, with the photos in the right places, etc. (if I’ve done my part right at this end); and I must finish it tonight and John has already gone to bed. (He usually turns into a pumpkin before 9:00 each night, just as I'm getting a good start on some project or other. (so what else is new?) Tomorrow is Sunday and we have a full day scheduled and I want to email this to Kelly first thing Monday morning when we go into the internet café.<br /><br />One last note, in case you're wondering, John is on this mission with me and is doing just great. He loves everything we're doing and does an amazing job with the Samoan language. People who meet him for the first time are just astounded at how fluent he is. He still complains about not being good enough, and continues to study the language daily. He's made friends with so many little kids along our jogging route and stops to high-5 and talk to them. It seems that wherever we go we hear these little voices calling out from a fale or back in the trees saying, "Hi John", even in areas where we don't think we've been jogging. We often can't even see them, so we just wave in that general direction and hope we got it right. He will definitely be writing some of the next blog, however brief, if I can get him to stay up long enough.<br /><br />Again I'll truly quit and send all of our love to our dear family and friends from Elder and Sister Krogh, or Elder and Sister Ioane, which is what most of our Samoan friends call us (because it’s easier for them to say than Krogh), or even Elder and Sister John to make it really simple.<br /><br />Tofa soifoa manuia le po and I'm going to bed too.</div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>John & Karen Kroghhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08097598934218597824noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7660554378340018126.post-80251187295827355682010-09-19T19:32:00.000-07:002010-09-19T20:24:53.514-07:00Blog #11 - September 9, 2010It’s about time I got back to this blog. It’s been weeks since I last wrote and it’s been hanging over my head that I must get another segment done while I still remember what needs to go into it. Fortunately I have my pictures piled up to remind me what I haven’t written about yet. Today is a perfect day for this project. It’s been raining on and off since we woke up and then our Zone meeting was cancelled so we are free until about 2:30 this afternoon. We never know when to expect rain, and when it comes we have no clue how long it will persist. Many mornings when we run, the sky will be almost clear when we start, but before we get back we’ve been caught in a real cloudburst that soaks us to the skin and more. We really don’t mind running in the rain, because it’s so much cooler, but our feet get muddy and our poor shoes are totally filled with water. Thankfully we bought washable running shoes, which were meant to go in a washing machine, so the water doesn’t hurt them.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0RIhLB9nonMkBAMCgn6x9IlCavtJdpE9bQOKq-CNF_tMm2fPpOyPTvqcc3geTFQ_wv6f9A2AErOEV4qPuhYKTZCini56fvF4i0-nDG0z0qiYNeiH-b6UyPSK5jc30lxXhAcTYHOAoZg/s1600/145.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518824003324478162" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0RIhLB9nonMkBAMCgn6x9IlCavtJdpE9bQOKq-CNF_tMm2fPpOyPTvqcc3geTFQ_wv6f9A2AErOEV4qPuhYKTZCini56fvF4i0-nDG0z0qiYNeiH-b6UyPSK5jc30lxXhAcTYHOAoZg/s400/145.jpg" /></a> Here’s a look at what the weather’s like out there today. This picture was actually taken about a month ago, but it looks exactly like that right now. It’s just like a lake out there. You’d think it would flood, but the ground is so full of volcanic rock that everything just seeps through it and in an hour it will all be gone except the mud. The mud on the road is so full of sand and small rocks, that you can’t get stuck. It’s quite amazing really.<br /><br />Speaking of rocks, there has been a huge project taking place along the seashore in front of the hotel and all along the coast here in Lalomolava. They are building a seawall to keep the ocean from eroding away the shoreline. Several feet have been slowly washed away from the Hotel’s shoreline. They’ve been hauling tons and tons of soil and rocks in for months to extend it back out again. There are some places where the hotel land goes almost 30 feet further out from the main building than it did when we first got here. Once they had the shore built out again, they started bringing in load after load of huge rocks, probably averaging about 3 feet in diameter and piling them close to the edge. Then they put down a membrane sort of like landscape cloth about 12 feet wide and pile the big rocks on top of that to keep the soil in place and I’m guessing to keep the plants and weeds from growing up between the rocks. I can’t even begin to imagine what it’s costing the government to do it, after seeing all the 100’s of dump-truck loads of dirt and rock carried in and then large bulldozers and backhoes to move the dirt around and set the rocks in place. We saw a notice in the Apia paper last week that was asking for bids for another huge seawall to be built in another area. We think they’ll go all around both islands before they’re through. Many of the more highly populated areas have had the seawalls for years. We’ve really enjoyed watching the progress on the hotel seawall and think that they are pretty well done except for the final landscaping, which will probably be up to the hotel. You know how we love to landscape with rocks and we would love to have some input on what to do here. That’s not our project, however, and it will be fun to see how they finish it up.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxXtiu2R9fdchj8vlVy5AXmAb-8z6iaC_J9oJ68tJ8NmYxjIqTKzwLiQKpse9yy3230_X3yS5AHJWqJa7Tt6lyw__N8ZRcUknHZb7K8_1QhdtHS29GIs853Yx4RVvnegNB_fuhrV1ZJA/s1600/149.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518823957312136354" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxXtiu2R9fdchj8vlVy5AXmAb-8z6iaC_J9oJ68tJ8NmYxjIqTKzwLiQKpse9yy3230_X3yS5AHJWqJa7Tt6lyw__N8ZRcUknHZb7K8_1QhdtHS29GIs853Yx4RVvnegNB_fuhrV1ZJA/s400/149.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirozW2PdzZeNl0jlyIEWouG-ptgomI8bMbq0mHOzjghWHRvUgQfO5Xq4QExZOvLz52nz7clCQysOW9kQj9HLuMZ_gmadbKqPOlbghQFweas0z0CSc8Xgqrbvb8cvWfJxog1jBTqDPAeA/s1600/151.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518823900319501474" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirozW2PdzZeNl0jlyIEWouG-ptgomI8bMbq0mHOzjghWHRvUgQfO5Xq4QExZOvLz52nz7clCQysOW9kQj9HLuMZ_gmadbKqPOlbghQFweas0z0CSc8Xgqrbvb8cvWfJxog1jBTqDPAeA/s400/151.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9mXPzWDGqmM-U0L_urTh9q6azVGyerXMQ8I1Y6kXjfk0-dUI5WsZ5jhgnKRMdPLvolTLX7f54fYnN64mF-h_aCUfTF9Sdd_Wq8UCVKZpZKBp23z4EIiL9WRpXfeXmP8IvtV9hlmimYA/s1600/152.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518823821044405266" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9mXPzWDGqmM-U0L_urTh9q6azVGyerXMQ8I1Y6kXjfk0-dUI5WsZ5jhgnKRMdPLvolTLX7f54fYnN64mF-h_aCUfTF9Sdd_Wq8UCVKZpZKBp23z4EIiL9WRpXfeXmP8IvtV9hlmimYA/s400/152.jpg" /></a> These three pictures show the rocks being dumped, just one of hundreds of loads, rocks being positioned by backhoe, and rocks being laid out on the membrane right down to the water’s edge.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbraiLC6a2wAnTH64iWMQZi6iPzPGjrlXIVHxHPoJSiyCkB-xxYs8e1CQi8Io2uUJruNhCTIXND8qsuCRjBBYkLQ5-0UGjU3GoCufrzmQeWLHZB3CI38nkElXnlHxNSI4vjUHPiuS79A/s1600/153.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518823772220245970" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbraiLC6a2wAnTH64iWMQZi6iPzPGjrlXIVHxHPoJSiyCkB-xxYs8e1CQi8Io2uUJruNhCTIXND8qsuCRjBBYkLQ5-0UGjU3GoCufrzmQeWLHZB3CI38nkElXnlHxNSI4vjUHPiuS79A/s400/153.jpg" /></a> This picture gives you an idea of how far they’ve moved the shoreline out. The edge of the grass by the building on the right and the palm tree in the center of the picture, furthest to the left, were right at the edge of the water when we came in January 2010. John estimates that this one ‘small’ project here in Lalomolava stretches along the shoreline for about 200 yards, give or take a few.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip_qV9KmI_SbKaE9vyvSKreLH_2vonJ3dTPJs_4ni_5xVA8LlojyyzXJdb9MDlhhfuk0MrIDkptMcc7MAOBBUHCY4yGuBirVtVpYk1HRkS31mAu5mevttfpRoBrTpoT0F7bGbRAMSmcw/s1600/191.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518823714351807106" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip_qV9KmI_SbKaE9vyvSKreLH_2vonJ3dTPJs_4ni_5xVA8LlojyyzXJdb9MDlhhfuk0MrIDkptMcc7MAOBBUHCY4yGuBirVtVpYk1HRkS31mAu5mevttfpRoBrTpoT0F7bGbRAMSmcw/s400/191.jpg" /></a> This last picture was taken just as we finished a late evening stroll along the seawall and the clouds formed a beautiful backdrop for the silhouette of the rocks. I’ve never seen clouds like we see here in Samoa. Sometimes they don’t even look real, they are so spectacular.<br /><br />Our weeks are really filled with all sorts of missionary activities that keep us moving most of the time. We have no real specific schedule, except for running/walking every morning but Sunday, zone meeting every Thursday Morning and I teach a piano class on Thursday afternoons. Most Friday nights we help with the MTC class, especially if there are missionaries headed for English-speaking missions, and then we work with them on the lessons in English. Most other days, we are either visiting with the Ward Mission leaders in one of six different wards, planning and preparing for family home evenings that we set up with some of the inactive members we’ve visited, or calling back, on our own, on some of the families we’ve been working with in other wards, just to keep in touch, even though we aren’t formally working in their wards right now.<br /><br />The last two weekends we’ve joined with the full time elders and sister missionaries from two zones (plus the two of us and the ward mission leaders and ward missionaries) to do a full canvassing of one ward each week, visiting every house, meeting members, inactive members and nonmembers and inviting them all to a missionary fireside the next day. We do all the visits on Saturday morning and then have the fireside the next evening on Sunday. We do some long distance traveling to get to some of those areas, and find ourselves driving home Sunday night after dark and half-way around the island. The problem with night driving in Samoa is that not only is everything pretty dark, but you never know what’s going to be walking along the narrow road or across the road—pigs, dogs, chickens, horses, cows and lots of people, who like to walk after dark because it is so cool (as in temperature). We’re always greatly relieved to get back home after one of the long dark drives at night.<br /><br />We’ve had a little success with some of the families we’ve invited back to church and feel happy when they seem to be enjoying it. Others have come a time or two while we’ve worked in their ward, but kind of fizzle out after we’ve moved on. The real key for us is to have the help of the members to keep up the fellowshipping and friendshipping, home teaching, visiting teaching, etc., after we’re gone, so that there is a continual positive connection maintained with them. That works really well in some wards and others just don’t seem to get it yet. We can’t expect success every time, but it sure is satisfying when we feel we are able to help make a difference in some way. If nothing else, we’ve made some really great new friends and even if we don’t see them at church, they all greet us out in the villages or in town. In Savaii the people are so friendly and everybody waves at us all the time. Each time it happens one of us will say “do we know them?” and if we do, we’re not sure where from. We are in so many places all the time. We’ve learned to always wave, just in case it is someone who knows us and we’re not sure we know them. So now everybody waves, and so do we. We drive the same road back and forth every day and see a lot of the same people, even though we may have never met them. I’m sure we’ll really miss that back home.<br /><br />We’ve had to learn to schedule ourselves carefully, or we end up getting too tired. We have to remember that we are 75 and 72 years old and we can’t keep up the pace that the young missionaries do. We learned not to schedule more that one other activity on the days that we go visiting with the ward mission leaders. We’ll visit from 5 to 7 families, walking quite a distance and mostly sitting on the hard floors of their fales (houses). We’re always happy when we are offered a chair to sit on, but we are usually on the floor. Our poor old bones, joints and muscles can take a real beating on those days. We’ve had some days when we had visits all morning, a mid-afternoon class, visit or ward activity and then a family home evening that night. We’re trying not to do that any more if we don’t absolutely have to. We especially like to keep a day free from the visits between the other days just to let our bodies recuperate a little. We usually visit three to four days a week, and schedule other types of activities on the off days. We seldom take a real P-day, but just spread our duties of shopping, cooking, laundry, emailing, recreation, etc., on those off days during the week. We still put in a little time studying language every day. John, of course, is getting better and better and I’m still studying, forgetting, not hearing, memorizing, forgetting, etc. I have some things that I have committed to memory, but so much of what I need is to be able to carry on a conversation in normal Samoan, and my big problem is that I can’t really hear what native Samoans are saying, they talk so fast and many so softly that I’m at a real loss. I smile a lot, especially at the children. Even when John is helping me and speaking sentences that I know how to say, he has to repeat them a couple of times before I really hear all the vowels and consonants correctly. When I listen to talks and lessons at church I am hearing and recognizing more and more words, but still can’t put them all together to make a complete thought. I’ll hear a word I know and think, “oh yeah, that means so and so” and by the time I figure that word or phrase out, the person has spoken several other words that I didn’t catch at all. I think I’m better than I was at first and seem to advance a little more every week. Maybe by the time I go home, I’ll be able to actually carry on a conversation in Samoan. I get by with what little I do understand and some pretty good translations, and gratefully there are many English speakers here. At least it doesn’t discourage me like it did before and I guess that’s progress of a sort. I remember when Benj was on his mission and every letter for a while had something about his language not being up to what he’d like. Then we got a letter telling us he had been carrying on a conversation with a kid at a park or something and realized he was speaking Spanish without thinking. We never heard about his language after that. I can’t imagine me getting to that point any time soon.<br /><br />Last month we had a special treat. Another missionary couple from Apia, Elder and Sister Squire, who were coming over for a few days to teach some classes at Vaiola, asked us to join them on a little two day trip up to the north of our island to stay in a hotel at Vaisala and do some great snorkeling. When we were here 5 years ago, several of us came over to Savaii for three days and stayed in a hotel right on the ocean and planned to snorkel. One of the other missionaries had served up there 50 or more years ago and said it would be spectacular. When we got there, however, we discovered that the shoreline had been hit really hard with a hurricane a few years before, and it had really devastated the trees, the beach and the coral. When we went snorkeling back then in a lovely little lagoon close by, it was like a graveyard on the ocean floor, where all the coral had been torn up and it just looked like it was covered with a layer of ashes. We were all quite disappointed, especially the couple who had made the arrangements. We actually had a pretty good stay in spite of the bad snorkeling. Ever since we’ve been back, we’ve tried in vain to find that little hotel again and figured it must have just closed down. To our great surprise, when we went back to Vaisala last month with the Squires, it turned out to be the very same hotel. All the trees and brush had grown back in again, and even though there was a residue of the old “ashes” still apparent, the ocean floor was just covered with new living coral and all the sealife that lives around it. What a delight it was so see the rebirth of that area.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPSgxC4F8a7JnQFDJ1AM2N3J6hOf0vdhzIt5VNd_tpspPZiE811wVEquQDSTC-eP5Z2mtNViG0vJY8pvr62IhLNfnHnMWfIa_ItQZj72XuROLf1g2ABiT-Vg64T4KrJsj1FAr2IuWqAw/s1600/156.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518823665447817378" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPSgxC4F8a7JnQFDJ1AM2N3J6hOf0vdhzIt5VNd_tpspPZiE811wVEquQDSTC-eP5Z2mtNViG0vJY8pvr62IhLNfnHnMWfIa_ItQZj72XuROLf1g2ABiT-Vg64T4KrJsj1FAr2IuWqAw/s400/156.jpg" /></a> When we checked in to our little cottage right on the beach, we were greeted by these towels arranged on the bed with fragrant natural flowers. It was a nice little room with a bathroom and hot water shower, and a lovely little porch out front with chairs and tables.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOuHlHfsLJFez0TYOPGwl3ZxLAaakKel63f2ctRE59jIIQh3fMcX_91IEBuUF4IGNlSC_tOt1CWtDYwW_POfKqxC8M8Os7QA3qI-demWKApLEOKB9jyZiJ9lZvnlYp9z5MaAhgQsVpEQ/s1600/157.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518823610591523522" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOuHlHfsLJFez0TYOPGwl3ZxLAaakKel63f2ctRE59jIIQh3fMcX_91IEBuUF4IGNlSC_tOt1CWtDYwW_POfKqxC8M8Os7QA3qI-demWKApLEOKB9jyZiJ9lZvnlYp9z5MaAhgQsVpEQ/s400/157.jpg" /></a> This is the view from our front porch. <div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNPq8wIk_chdtjq1hJS7LPBv-spMV_14PtbvVJvFZgiCuTk9xinvMtFKjKakGUGM9BudbEwHG5J57DsSKUw9otGPMItZHPcWndES2I7XcVZPXCqaL7NTtgEwcrF6oz0gLf4UAsjRnn5Q/s1600/161.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518823555131680786" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNPq8wIk_chdtjq1hJS7LPBv-spMV_14PtbvVJvFZgiCuTk9xinvMtFKjKakGUGM9BudbEwHG5J57DsSKUw9otGPMItZHPcWndES2I7XcVZPXCqaL7NTtgEwcrF6oz0gLf4UAsjRnn5Q/s400/161.jpg" /></a> This a view of the porch itself, with John sitting and reading.<br /><br />We ate lunch in the car on the way up, so that we could start snorkeling as soon as we got there about 1:30 p.m. Now-----the Squires are diehard snorkelers. When they set out from shore, they are gone for 2-3 hours. It’s not like it is for us at Aganoa where we go out a little ways and paddle around for an hour or so and then come back in to rest or eat lunch and then go back out for a while. I was a little nervous about going out too far after a bad experience I had back in February at Aganoa Beach. I guess this is as good a time to tell about that as any. It was so terrifying for me back then, that I didn’t want to tell the family about it for fear of worrying them. Anyway, we had been having a wonderful time snorkeling and moving on out toward the reef. I felt like I was almost flying because the current was carrying me over the coral so fast. I remembered then about the warning signs on the beach about the dangerous undertow and realized we were probably caught in it. John was just ahead of me so I called out to him that we needed to go back. We turned around and he headed back to shore, not realizing that I wasn’t right behind him. I could not fight the current. I was really in over my head, literally and figuratively. I fought and fought to make some headway and only got pushed further toward the reef, where the big waves break and all of a sudden the ocean gets ve-e-e-r-r-r-ry deep. I was mostly just treading water, which gratefully was quite easy for me back then with about 45 extra pounds of fat on me to keep me buoyant, and the sea water helps to hold you up as well. I saw that John made it to shore and when he looked back for me, he couldn’t see me. I called “help!” and waved at him, so he headed back into the water to come to my assistance. About this time I realized that I had better put my face and mask back in the water and just paddle as hard as I could. I had already said a couple of prayers, because I knew I was in trouble and wasn’t sure I’d survive. I put my face back in the water only to discover the dark navy blue of the deep ocean and realized I’d been washed out past the reef. It frightened me so much that I ripped my mask and snorkel off and I guess in my panic I let go of it, because I never saw it again. I still had my fins on, but couldn’t really swim well with my face out of the water. I thought I was done for. Then I saw John swimming toward me--wow was I happy to see him. Unfortunately, he had worn himself out swimming back in the first time and then back out to help me and didn’t have much strength left. We battled together for awhile to no avail and I was pretty sure we weren’t going to make it. Suddenly I looked toward the shore and noticed the wife of the resort owner waving at me, and pointing off the other direction. When I looked over that way, I saw her husband running into the water with his surfboard. I remember saying “Thank God” as he was quickly making his way toward us. My prayer had been heard. When I was able to put my hands on the surfboard, I thought I’d died and gone to heaven…. Hmmmm, well actually I think I realized we probably weren’t going to go the heaven just yet. We still had to work really hard to paddle behind the surfboard, but we were at least making some progress. Instead of taking us straight in, he took us off to the left quite a ways where the current wasn’t so bad and then on in. His son came out with another surfboard. They put John on that one because he was so tired from two trips out and back he could hardly stay up, and he has not one ounce of fat on his body to help him like I did. When we were in close enough for me to put my feet on the bottom, I felt a huge sense of relief but also horror at how close we had come to not making it back in. We’re almost sure we couldn’t have without their help. When I was almost to the shore, I was so worn out I had to just sit in the water for awhile to get my breath and strength back and to calm down a little. Another thing I’ve learned about myself is that I can get seasick snorkeling and floating on top of the water with the waves gently rocking me. Well I’d had more than just a gentle rocking on this trip and had swallowed several gulps of sea water, so I was really sick. John was ready to go eat lunch, but all I wanted was a Sprite and maybe a couple of his salty French fries and that did help me feel a little better, physically anyway. At that point, I didn’t care if I EVER saw the ocean again and I’ve always loved the ocean. Not seeing the ocean becomes a little difficult when you live only 500 feet away and the road you drive every day skirts it all the way around the Island. I ended up having terribly bad dreams about that experience and relived the terror of it over and over for several weeks. It was almost like I was suffering from post traumatic stress. That, on top of the isolation and homesickness I was experiencing those first couple of months, sent me into a tailspin of depression. John and Elder Montgomery finally gave me a blessing and at least the dreams subsided a little. After working with the mission nurse and Benj over the skype, I was able to get some help with meds and was able to finally pull out of the depression after about six more weeks. If I hadn’t known what a dream this mission had been for John for 50 years, I’d probably have insisted on going home. I was able to work my way out of it with prayers, meds and a lot of positive thinking and talking to myself. On top of all that, I had stomach pains that kept me awake constantly for weeks and I could hardly eat. I don’t know if it was anxiety or just the total change of diet and some dehydration, but I lost 25 pounds during that first month after the ocean scare. Not that I didn’t need to lose twice that much, but I’d not want to do it that way again.<br /><br />I’ve continued on with my morning runs and watched the diet after that and have lost another 20 or so on purpose. I’m feeling just great physically and mentally now and feel that I have really adjusted well to this crazy life we’re living, including being able to share that “washed out to sea” story without plunging back into despair. Anyway, that’s why I was so nervous about going to a new place to snorkel. I’d been back to Aganoa beach a few times and was able to stay close to shore and have a nice time. This new adventure with the Squires scared me a little, but they assured me there was no dangerous current there at all. We stayed pretty close to the rocky shore at first and then went on around into the little lagoon that had looked so bad when we were here years ago. It was all grown in again and was just so beautiful and peaceful. Somehow or other we lost John when we went into the Lagoon, so I stayed pretty close to the Squires the whole time until we found him again, but not until we’d been gone more than two hours, clear out to the reef and swimming in 12 to 15 ft. of water. I didn’t want to head back in by myself, even though I was getting a little seasick again and was pretty tired. Sister Squire recognized that I was wearing out, so she suggested that she and I head back in and leave her husband out by the reef. I gladly accepted and hadn’t realized how far out we were until I noticed how long it took us to get back in. There was no undertow though and I felt pretty much in control, to my great relief. John was waiting for us on shore and getting a little cold in the breeze, so Sis. Squire suggested we go over to this other little area of the beach that was really shallow and calm, so it was like lounging in a nice warm bathtub. We just lolled around there talking, and feeding the fish that swim right up close to shore, for quite a bit while we waited for Elder Squire to come back in and join us. That was probably a little more difficult snorkeling that day than I would have chosen, but it was actually very therapeutic for me to master it after that first scare. After we had a nice warm shower and got dressed again, we wandered along the beach taking pictures and headed for the Dining room for supper.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9dF6HHlHa-HGR9A5UK9TahexnXEJRhf6jeWkr5D-lV8mVFuAXNXOFVHV6K6YFskfM5XbJXovo4SvAg2nU8oQ8nwIiMVxmBs3PZjJiqOAMk5d6C5ktx7G9wuxQCbk82JIfIsDA3iXVLw/s1600/163.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518823510918587026" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9dF6HHlHa-HGR9A5UK9TahexnXEJRhf6jeWkr5D-lV8mVFuAXNXOFVHV6K6YFskfM5XbJXovo4SvAg2nU8oQ8nwIiMVxmBs3PZjJiqOAMk5d6C5ktx7G9wuxQCbk82JIfIsDA3iXVLw/s400/163.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheSX7NjkEM9VjBD-vY-PwNaM6XfUXSMuT5L7x_USugI6-sirGC8oKdiqc3cu2bMk7p2cZfxqVIEZFSQ0MKh8PqoWE6V2bzdFwfsdSwj52TCYpVMC0rl35yLHGL0drpPv3KP4NnpO7b0g/s1600/164.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518823446587255586" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheSX7NjkEM9VjBD-vY-PwNaM6XfUXSMuT5L7x_USugI6-sirGC8oKdiqc3cu2bMk7p2cZfxqVIEZFSQ0MKh8PqoWE6V2bzdFwfsdSwj52TCYpVMC0rl35yLHGL0drpPv3KP4NnpO7b0g/s400/164.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw8RhrdSaL3VsVx2N9g-3ym9MZ6lbQE6CW3WqSgPjEQ0N5ANEC8prY0BgsvAG-rWCDNLnjD3fLBUw6bBYv7R73XZJvJLp62XKQuvkOC8dBC9MPUtDYzqR0_XMKRUCTPEpZ6V6cdyjAdA/s1600/167.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518823403528038226" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw8RhrdSaL3VsVx2N9g-3ym9MZ6lbQE6CW3WqSgPjEQ0N5ANEC8prY0BgsvAG-rWCDNLnjD3fLBUw6bBYv7R73XZJvJLp62XKQuvkOC8dBC9MPUtDYzqR0_XMKRUCTPEpZ6V6cdyjAdA/s400/167.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge_cJAgSbw22QOsWjeSEz4LRWrSN88zIJNdA0zyRe_I3ETx_GjlooVrtGa1jakWDrRKkyIYGpW9oEGUHhPOOBaVin4uSjuF-SI9NyodwsaNV5DS2E3uXmbc4tFbhZUjr9PSgIqHIn_Tg/s1600/175.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518823349793943906" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge_cJAgSbw22QOsWjeSEz4LRWrSN88zIJNdA0zyRe_I3ETx_GjlooVrtGa1jakWDrRKkyIYGpW9oEGUHhPOOBaVin4uSjuF-SI9NyodwsaNV5DS2E3uXmbc4tFbhZUjr9PSgIqHIn_Tg/s400/175.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjilPVmsnIXqMHVh3Ph16WCmCz3CkSkEqxLdW_rr71M39sDoUeGVNZojnvScHe5jbfYMZuiglt736tGlltDCI1iGckiiTx-BVFvZok_2VdEI4l4u-cE4Qu02CNeuaYlM2xApX6cBYiwsw/s1600/178.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518823299807324946" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjilPVmsnIXqMHVh3Ph16WCmCz3CkSkEqxLdW_rr71M39sDoUeGVNZojnvScHe5jbfYMZuiglt736tGlltDCI1iGckiiTx-BVFvZok_2VdEI4l4u-cE4Qu02CNeuaYlM2xApX6cBYiwsw/s400/178.jpg" /></a> These are some of the pictures I took that evening of the sun rays through the clouds, the warm, shallow little beach where we went to lounge around and get warm, a view from a hill above the hotel, with our cottage on the immediate right, and another picturesque shot along the way to the dining room. It’s re-e-e-a-lly a sacrifice to be serving a mission in such an out-of-the-way place, but then SOMEBODY HAS TO DO IT!!!! RIGHT???. Actually the isolated part does make it a little difficult at times, but being able to take a couple of days like these at Viasala once in a while, certainly does make up for the other more stressful parts.<br /><br />We had a lovely dinner on the balcony of the hotel dining room where we took more pictures (181 – 183)<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYt2d8q8j8E6xghwc-kALKCL13CdXcg_LvvfpylNadhVYm9-npqOFIbzH9L0zvTijCoHIDwfMVy92BScQDXLQ0nGsxXYzGEcByk7HBU14e463PE7lK9-Mx71pRjGSl0aRSGVf047_2XA/s1600/181.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518823231439423922" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYt2d8q8j8E6xghwc-kALKCL13CdXcg_LvvfpylNadhVYm9-npqOFIbzH9L0zvTijCoHIDwfMVy92BScQDXLQ0nGsxXYzGEcByk7HBU14e463PE7lK9-Mx71pRjGSl0aRSGVf047_2XA/s400/181.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Xs3Ynw_Aoug-zdp3hJ7UaV7ES1hczztpdUrUWvlc7zOet52wqVSgUNSsOIDu2QTxhxUtrllCP1h4ZGRQ-RxQuX0xQGyN-aLvTY4rsOfyVGDC9nDc0ktYkPcLBPTxlfnzenObWada5g/s1600/183.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518823172996057810" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Xs3Ynw_Aoug-zdp3hJ7UaV7ES1hczztpdUrUWvlc7zOet52wqVSgUNSsOIDu2QTxhxUtrllCP1h4ZGRQ-RxQuX0xQGyN-aLvTY4rsOfyVGDC9nDc0ktYkPcLBPTxlfnzenObWada5g/s400/183.jpg" /></a> and then went back to the Squires porch and played games until bedtime. We got up early and went snorkeling again and had a great day and then had to start back to get the Squires on the 4:00 Ferry headed back to Apia. All in all, it was a wonderful break from our usual duties as missionaries. That’s the nice thing about being a Senior missionary. We have fewer restrictions and more opportunities for recreation than the young missionaries do. We don’t even tell them about our snorkeling trips, because they are not allowed to go in the ocean at all.<br /><br />Seeing these pictures today made us want to go back up to Visaula again. We realized that the MTC class had been cancelled for Friday night and we were planning to go snorkeling at Aganoa on our P-day on Saturday, so we decided to head back up to Visaula tomorrow afternoon (Friday) and stay over until Saturday afternoon. That will be another nice break after several weeks of some pretty stressful days.<br /><br />I mentioned a piano class I’ve been teaching for several weeks now. It started out very simply with me teaching one inactive teenager who didn’t seem interested in going back to church with her parents. We had taken my little roll-up piano to a family home evening we had with their family and she was quite taken with it. Her mom told us she had had to give up her piano class at school because of the need to take another class and she had been very disappointed. Knowing I had been sent with some conducting and piano keyboard teaching aids by the missionary department because of my music background, I volunteered to teach her once a week. I had already sent for another couple of roll-up pianos, because the first one was such a hit with all the families that I feared it would be worn out soon. I had given her about three lessons, when one day the Bishop’s wife came to their house visiting teaching while I was giving Tu’i her piano lesson. Sister Fuga saw me teaching and asked if I would be willing to teach her three teenage girls as well. I was really enjoying these lessons, so I said an immediate ‘yes’ before I realized that I had only one book and I was leaving that with Tu’i to practice with every day. It turns out the Bishop’s family had a keyboard at their home and if the Bishop was willing to make copies of the first few lessons in the book for his daughters to use, we could probably make that work until I could get ahold of more copies of the lesson book. Two extra girls came to sit in on the next lesson and wanted to continue, then several others in the ward asked me also. I had a talk with the Bishop and the Ward Music Chairman and said I would be willing to teach all 11 of them if I could get some help from others in the ward who played the piano already. Also, we had to let others know that there was not room for any others in the class. A couple of the kids brought their little brothers and sisters to join in, but I had to tell them I couldn’t handle any of the younger kids this time around. As soon as this class is over, I may try another one if I’m still around. One of the reasons I really needed helpers was that it’s possible I won’t be here to finish the class, and they would probably be able to carry on without me. Besides not having enough music to go around, we needed more pianos, so we asked around and were able to find another couple of portable keyboards, so I teach the class with the Primary Piano, three other keyboards, and my two little roll-up pianos. The kids have to double up during the class, but it seems to be working okay. Kimmy had told me that she does group lessons, and the kids seem to try a little harder to keep up with the others. It seems to work that way for me too. Because Samoan schedules are so lax, it’s a real challenge to get everyone there on time, if they show up at all. I’ve had a couple of days with no helpers at all, so I’ve taken to reminding them each week on the day before the class. I have to go to their houses to do that, because they have no phones. Then I have to pick up several of the kids on lesson day, because they live quite a ways away from the church and they are bringing their keyboards. Today when I went to pick up the first girl, she was asleep, so I had to wait for her. The next girl was not home at all and no one seemed to know where she was. When I went to pick up the third girl, she came out to the car and said, “oh are we having class today? I thought it would be cancelled because of the rain.” She did go back in and get her keyboard and came along with us. I’m learning some patience I never knew I needed before I was confronted with the Samoan culture. There’s just no big rush for anything. Samoan time is almost always late, if you remember at all, and if you miss this week, you’ll just come next time, even though you’ll end up behind in the piano class. I had to let go of perfection a long time ago, and now I’m just accepting whatever comes. That helps with the stress. Some of them are doing pretty well and others are struggling, because they miss so much class. I’m trying not to let it bother me and I’m getting better each time. I hope we’ll actually have some piano players capable of accompanying simple church hymns by the time we’re finished. I don’t think there’ll be 11 of them, but maybe 3 or 4 who really keep it up and practice regularly. I’ll feel good about that.<br /><br />I think I mentioned in our last blog that we were giving up the English classes, because the Mission President wanted us to move on to other wards now, and it would make it too hard to get back for the two classes each week. We’re actually quite relieved to be finished with them, even though we did make some good friends among the kids in those three wards. Now, here I am trapped into a piano class, but only for one afternoon per week, and because all of the kids speak English, it’s something I can do to contribute something to the wards without knowing Samoan very well.<br /><br />One day while we were in Apia, we had some extra time and decided to go visit the Aggie Grey hotel, where we had stayed 5 years ago. It is a beautiful place and is decorated with Samoan décor to the hilt.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBECACZ9J8tsWCHz2SewGNOXpRWeOaW1BvbNXJxP8kgNAJVGRHb0pLchNBUq49wcnpCymZbaXInfMBXwepH7p-Jon6M3xZGctrc4xn3ECj6ooB7DglJMTPa4hAOKNT41UNves_C-mWkQ/s1600/195.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518823109064127746" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBECACZ9J8tsWCHz2SewGNOXpRWeOaW1BvbNXJxP8kgNAJVGRHb0pLchNBUq49wcnpCymZbaXInfMBXwepH7p-Jon6M3xZGctrc4xn3ECj6ooB7DglJMTPa4hAOKNT41UNves_C-mWkQ/s400/195.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF8CgTYhpmn2KMQAjhBW64TRUbA2PwRBHD-kKJ-CMBAg1_2CJsTLC389aOMMSuVDlFFsCy11b7FX7mgqFrxoY1nf7Bg4LdZWyd31beEk6-yLhyYqy9gVWD_OWzODIUBnP5_kd22Z6zxw/s1600/199.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518823039430261522" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF8CgTYhpmn2KMQAjhBW64TRUbA2PwRBHD-kKJ-CMBAg1_2CJsTLC389aOMMSuVDlFFsCy11b7FX7mgqFrxoY1nf7Bg4LdZWyd31beEk6-yLhyYqy9gVWD_OWzODIUBnP5_kd22Z6zxw/s400/199.jpg" /></a> The landscaping is like the garden of Eden with exotic flowers everywhere, some we’ve not seen before.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtLdnlBgs_hxGP8FN7WMbiJpVTAgH99a1geXdyc_f11QSRd1E4niLTkHnxOc7YQ-0JyeuZknDnGVnyeeRIFEw4RSZWCLOwQTyBU2BDa9VPxWN6U6ue8E-7GWJDLod-LA6XSvjZ1H52cA/s1600/198.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518822974881003858" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtLdnlBgs_hxGP8FN7WMbiJpVTAgH99a1geXdyc_f11QSRd1E4niLTkHnxOc7YQ-0JyeuZknDnGVnyeeRIFEw4RSZWCLOwQTyBU2BDa9VPxWN6U6ue8E-7GWJDLod-LA6XSvjZ1H52cA/s400/198.jpg" /></a> As you walk from the main building back to all the fales and the swimming pool, the whole path is covered with this beautiful carved ceiling and posts. It just goes on and on.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlBXexj336S2taaMg7GqZGSZnCb_NcPK78389vYxoKzrsSZ9td7xH9QarRnK28maW6Qtz4O9pmh15vP8xJ9n2S721KsCOxAEjT2dMFWTWleU7iwRmqjnZCdfXlFs8sz0dRIS2dSxld5g/s1600/204.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518822916755062802" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlBXexj336S2taaMg7GqZGSZnCb_NcPK78389vYxoKzrsSZ9td7xH9QarRnK28maW6Qtz4O9pmh15vP8xJ9n2S721KsCOxAEjT2dMFWTWleU7iwRmqjnZCdfXlFs8sz0dRIS2dSxld5g/s400/204.jpg" /></a> The main dining fale is huge, where they have continual buffets all day long and great entertainment in the evenings. We had great memories of our two-week stay there when we came for the Temple Dedication.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7CPS_Jy9gSCafGNeFIy_csWIs_QiKh2sYLKjR6IxRuRxh9FZRDBqQiiX1eP5GD8oOb5b_q46vAAQKkXzI5jQV_6ly3LkgxcSYzEoT6PdBwgoxxoCm1TPbWYRQtPgNqJNG3Gikp9lIoQ/s1600/202.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518822849012433266" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7CPS_Jy9gSCafGNeFIy_csWIs_QiKh2sYLKjR6IxRuRxh9FZRDBqQiiX1eP5GD8oOb5b_q46vAAQKkXzI5jQV_6ly3LkgxcSYzEoT6PdBwgoxxoCm1TPbWYRQtPgNqJNG3Gikp9lIoQ/s400/202.jpg" /></a> In the large dining fale the whole ceiling is intricately woven and painted with native Samoan carved wood, cords and art. All the support posts are hand carved. I can’t imagine the number of man hours it took to complete the whole thing. It was so fun to have a chance to stop back and see it again. Before we came to Samoa this trip, Kimmy gave us a copy of a book called “Aggie Grey of Samoa, the First Lady of the south Pacific.” She was the founder of the hotel and built it up from a tiny hamburger stand for the American soldiers during world war II, to the incredible luxury hotel that it is now. The history of her life closely parallels the history of Samoa before and during those turbulent war and post war years. I read it before we came, but had to read it again a couple of times after arriving and being more familiar with all the stories and places talked about in the book. The book has made the rounds of most of the Senior missionaries, who’ve enjoyed it as much as we have. Thanks again Kimmy, it was a perfect gift and has been well used.<br /><br />JOHN - Our visits have taken us into two new villages along the coast, Moesavili and Sasa’ai. I actually lived for several months back in 1956 in Moesavili. None of the people there now were even alive or old enough to remember much of those days. The road was sand or rock, there was no elecrtricity, no toilet paper (they used coconut husks), no septic tanks--their outhouses were positioned along the beach out over the water and the fish took care of cleanup, practically no one wore any shorts or pants (all lavalavas) or t-shirts, and people bathed out in the open. Elephantitis was rampant, with many old folks having enlarged arms or legs. The Samoan houses were all thatched roof construction. The houses today are still the same open style, but the roofs are mostly galvanized tin. Houses used to be built using a thin rope material made from coconut husks. The old matais would sit and weave this rope (sennet, or afa) for hours on end. They all still sit cross legged on the floor much of the time. We have met some great people who have not been active in church for long periods of time. Every one we have visited has stated that they still have a strong testimony of the truthfulness of the gospel but for some reason they have not been able to keep coming to church. We have had some absolutely wonderful visits, with old chiefs, widows, young couples, and children. Much of the time we tell them how much we love the church and how we know that our families can be sealed in the temple for all time and eternity because of the great sealing power that was restored through the prophet Joseph Smith. We declare our faith in our living prophet. We met a family with three teenage girls who attend the church’s Vaiola school and who have been baptized into our church. Upon entering their home we found out that they speak very good English, and the father is a minister of the LMS church and teaches at their church college. We knew the parents were non-members when we went, so we tempered our remarks accordingly and kept our testimonies fairly generic. The father and mother sat rather stoically as we spoke and we felt they were a little uncomfortable with us there. When the father began to speak, he thanked us for coming, and went on to say, to our great surprise, that they were very interested in the Church. We were also made aware that he has been reading the church magazines that his daughters bring home from school. Each student at Vaiola has a subscription to the New Era and he’s read them and been so impressed with the messages contained in them that he has just about decided that he and his wife also want to be baptized and become members too. He went on to explain, however, that this was going to be a real challenge for him, being the village minister of another faith. He wants to leave that position without harming his family or causing too much trouble for the village, and he would probably lose his teaching job. We keep copies of the Liahona in our car and we left him several different issues, including one complete conference report from last year. We have taken other reading material to him at his request. This will be an interesting story as it unfolds. We are planning a family home evening with them this next Monday night, along with the sister missionaries who have been working with the girls. We’re really looking forward to it.<br /><br />We have also had several people come back to church, and we have met them on our Sunday visits to those two wards. Just this morning we saw a young father and his two sons in church. We had a very emotional visit with him this past week after which he said he knew he needed to stop his smoking and drinking and get back to church. I related to him how my dad was having the same problems when I was very young – smoking, drinking, and not attending to church activities. I explained that my dad was a good, honest man who loved his children very much, and when I was 12 years old and ready to be made a deacon he realized it was time to set a good example for me. He came back to church and quit his smoking and drinking. I felt that this Samoan man also loved his boys very much and that, he too, probably realized that he needed to make the changes my dad made 62 years ago. With tears in his eyes he said he would come back to church. He did, and so this is a measure of the success that we are experiencing, and it is a wonderful thing to behold. I had a recurring dream a few years back that I would someday be back in Samoa, and that I would have an opportunity to teach the gospel in the home of a high chief. I have actually had that happen, and in fact it happens a few times each week.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUaAvp73Jhmu6O3I7LiBA4w5Hd5ogXl8DuKfgUFPMh5bb-XeM_gv5IyOWq1xF13orO8wpJOz7HFT9u7T3FPiJrb4elCn9W767QB_0a0ZBhIdbealvSu52rHmBMipwIyvIP33C9uKYm_w/s1600/187.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518822751369523730" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUaAvp73Jhmu6O3I7LiBA4w5Hd5ogXl8DuKfgUFPMh5bb-XeM_gv5IyOWq1xF13orO8wpJOz7HFT9u7T3FPiJrb4elCn9W767QB_0a0ZBhIdbealvSu52rHmBMipwIyvIP33C9uKYm_w/s400/187.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiTJBwnI9liHgGMYD3dZ5aFbJDvpcNZRADbHL9NvAWJwkpZgjVvFCsx7GP9XTJt6oZUp9KLe0s-6ny7Y2H_vuVgrh5j1FsXagiJrmgANlOnLYkFmPNl7tG0OoX07im65yx02xqn1KDfg/s1600/188.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518822692842883810" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiTJBwnI9liHgGMYD3dZ5aFbJDvpcNZRADbHL9NvAWJwkpZgjVvFCsx7GP9XTJt6oZUp9KLe0s-6ny7Y2H_vuVgrh5j1FsXagiJrmgANlOnLYkFmPNl7tG0OoX07im65yx02xqn1KDfg/s400/188.jpg" /></a> KAREN - These two pictures were taken at one of our fale visits. The first one is of an old chief, who hasn’t been coming to church because of a bad leg. He and John had such a fun visit along with Malala, the ward mission leader. The other picture is of his daughter and her children. Notice the babies have no clothes on. That’s pretty typical except in town and at church. The children are so beautiful, but a little wary of these strange looking Palagis (whites) at first. When John invited the old chief to church and suggested we could pick him up if it was too hard for him to walk, he readily agreed. When we went to pick him up on Sunday, he had already left and walked to church on his own. He did allow us to take him back home again, however.<br /><br />On that same morning we had made arrangements to pick up another family. We had visited them for the second time the week before and had such a moving visit. The mother, Paula, is a young widow of about three months. Her husband died playing in a rugby game, where I think he broke his neck. She has 6 children, ages 2,4,6,8,10 and 12, all boys, except for the darling baby girl. Her oldest son has gone on to the U.S. to live with her brother and go to school. She hasn’t been coming to church for obvious reasons—she’s pretty depressed and the kids are a handful. Also, the in-laws she lives with are not members and have their own opinions about her attending church. When we were there this past week, she was telling us about her worries of supporting her family. She’s asked for financial help from her own family who live in New Zealand and the U.S., but so far hasn’t had much help. Her in-laws provide her a little house and help with food, but she has no money for anything extra. She told us about trying to start up a baking business, where she would bake cakes, breads, muffins, banana bread, gingerbread, etc., in this really primitive, by our standards anyway, oven.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCEJhm8mWppcTy651nyTkWjFVO5NvpQWYeWP5Wa0kzb-wylBx7dkG9blz7WfDkK1fMGyojAg7ueCCxAH-yPS6XJbKdQdaKk4LUxX2PyJwYxnZ8W9QUvtRzyn2C_8iGicegagug5hp5zw/s1600/252.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518822626447918882" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCEJhm8mWppcTy651nyTkWjFVO5NvpQWYeWP5Wa0kzb-wylBx7dkG9blz7WfDkK1fMGyojAg7ueCCxAH-yPS6XJbKdQdaKk4LUxX2PyJwYxnZ8W9QUvtRzyn2C_8iGicegagug5hp5zw/s400/252.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh7BICjx68JFXRRQaSB01uNdDNgn7r8TrTloS0pLyL8xPH0dsOjKCiu8wqXEDnFPzOH0y9VvCdLiY5Whbsr07_HHoEEqYPu_9tKobaxR2egZMTPpkGunkNgUuVfBwjSOW8ghm7kXXJAA/s1600/253.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518822571391947186" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh7BICjx68JFXRRQaSB01uNdDNgn7r8TrTloS0pLyL8xPH0dsOjKCiu8wqXEDnFPzOH0y9VvCdLiY5Whbsr07_HHoEEqYPu_9tKobaxR2egZMTPpkGunkNgUuVfBwjSOW8ghm7kXXJAA/s400/253.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGfp7qb1ibOgPXxU1zshsF_ExipWDwQv1pfhJgclkRVZIWeflFa-JQPfjFdGMOHtQDUbxuCU6g9cfbO2PZqGyerPTlLDI3_MwMJ_r38qXcH3f7rlaC73lfkr-N2iBCDGkIctqnfb7uHQ/s1600/254.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518822509084774034" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGfp7qb1ibOgPXxU1zshsF_ExipWDwQv1pfhJgclkRVZIWeflFa-JQPfjFdGMOHtQDUbxuCU6g9cfbO2PZqGyerPTlLDI3_MwMJ_r38qXcH3f7rlaC73lfkr-N2iBCDGkIctqnfb7uHQ/s400/254.jpg" /></a> The oven itself is made with a 55-gallon barrel on it’s side, on top of a little rock wall that is open at the back to load the wood for the fire underneath the oven. The whole thing is then covered with about 3-4 inches of concrete. The shelf is added inside and the lid of the barrel is used as the oven door, with a piece of cardboard inside the door, for insulation, I guess, and a couple of sticks to prop it closed. When she told us that she made gingerbread, we were both surprised, saying that we’ve not seen any in Samoa yet. When we asked if we could buy some from her, she told us she was sorry but she had no money to buy ingredients to bake with. We asked if we could pay for it up front and gave her some money and made an appointment for a couple of days later to come and pick up the finished gingerbread. When we came back that afternoon two days later, the gingerbread was still in the oven, but almost finished. I asked her how she was able to control the temperature (she speaks some English), and she just said you either add wood to the fire, or take some out. Okay…..sounds like true precision to me. We watched her father-in-law test the gingerbread by plucking a tiny little stick off a nearby bush, about the size of a toothpick, and testing it the way we would. When the gingerbread muffins came out of the oven they looked really dark, as they should, and I wondered if the bottom closest to the fire would be burned. They were perfect. She spread a little butter on one for us and MMMM-good. It was wonderful. It’s just amazing to me that she can have that kind of control on the oven. She had already received a big order that morning from the local women’s committee for a large pan of Coconut buns and was really acting happy. The coconut buns are just like you would bake hot rolls in the oven, but the dough is put into a coconut milk pudding in the bottom of the pan and baked in the oven. We didn’t have any of hers, but we’ve tasted them before and they are yummy. When we went back to pick her up for church the following Sunday, she had all the kids ready and spruced up. I had baked some pumpkin bread the day before so we brought her a loaf, along with the recipe. She makes a lot of Banana bread, and this is something she hadn’t had before and hopefully she’ll be able to make some and sell it. The pumpkin is readily available and she could probably grow it herself, like we have.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOgLF1GdkJ_ybBd2fniikp-7OyOxH0ADSkmwnlV6IcUkvQd7zkG91f2L2MI7Xw6moyuY4ekrs_mmZ4mh4bQPK46P1v3hWdeznhVbclDBXBAstRmhA2JuSQPPA0IFcO1CxeFdhqDVRY5w/s1600/282.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518822455998766594" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOgLF1GdkJ_ybBd2fniikp-7OyOxH0ADSkmwnlV6IcUkvQd7zkG91f2L2MI7Xw6moyuY4ekrs_mmZ4mh4bQPK46P1v3hWdeznhVbclDBXBAstRmhA2JuSQPPA0IFcO1CxeFdhqDVRY5w/s400/282.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfuWTCb0TI9IvN_Ln4lawH7zmcMeCdptzRknEneLdv18qz0vLH3V_H-gYeimA0yF3zG6Cyi2DSZKrN8BAfYNnv4Nc4K_2af3sU548btu08jVjmr8nHcUBs-ZX8MUCsU26zFxfL8yjmfA/s1600/283.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518822398980608114" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfuWTCb0TI9IvN_Ln4lawH7zmcMeCdptzRknEneLdv18qz0vLH3V_H-gYeimA0yF3zG6Cyi2DSZKrN8BAfYNnv4Nc4K_2af3sU548btu08jVjmr8nHcUBs-ZX8MUCsU26zFxfL8yjmfA/s400/283.jpg" /></a> Their version of pumpkins here are more green than ours, but the taste is the same. You can’t believe the size of the pumpkin plants and how they spread. This is the second one from our garden in the picture and there are several more in varying degrees of ripening. We eat it quite often just like squash but John has also made a few pumpkin pies--MMMMMM again.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3773OyHQka4jgEYCoqUpNxC7CqQ61HvADN8UhuNfCjGtSlKYU8C7VQRiDdr2A6LoCFrR42VNOa8wrFgAp7Ut5Z8W3iLtc2NizBMrpDGeRY2jOljyELVXz49RlROypUHhjOLr7aWLS3Q/s1600/249.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518822341490585762" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3773OyHQka4jgEYCoqUpNxC7CqQ61HvADN8UhuNfCjGtSlKYU8C7VQRiDdr2A6LoCFrR42VNOa8wrFgAp7Ut5Z8W3iLtc2NizBMrpDGeRY2jOljyELVXz49RlROypUHhjOLr7aWLS3Q/s400/249.jpg" /></a> This is a picture of Paula, the young widow, with her kids in front of the cookhouse. She is a beautiful, happy-faced woman, in spite of her circumstances. She really seemed to have a nice time at Church and everyone warmly welcomed her. We made arrangements to pick her up again this next Sunday. I hope she enjoys it enough to keep going after we move on and she has to walk about a mile with her kids. She asked us while we were there last week what she had to do to get ready to go to the temple. The Ward mission leader just told her she’d need to attend church, visit with the bishop, and would also be expected to pay tithing, which could be hard, but she’d be blessed for it. We have great hopes of being there if and when she is able to go.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTbXKrdE_dUFKCA7eoBz4aBU5GoXL-YltVr2V9ynyl2A6kwF97RpWlFeYmz5ShV4_ydCEJHqp8zkuwo53qKS3hiuyNpjLIuEaPzJrf84uPv8rU-y2d6PrnfKgmyS1dN2xWWS0KtEi8Vg/s1600/207.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518822281013523538" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTbXKrdE_dUFKCA7eoBz4aBU5GoXL-YltVr2V9ynyl2A6kwF97RpWlFeYmz5ShV4_ydCEJHqp8zkuwo53qKS3hiuyNpjLIuEaPzJrf84uPv8rU-y2d6PrnfKgmyS1dN2xWWS0KtEi8Vg/s400/207.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9bmR5wAYcTTQHkeofvZ2Iigb3PqJCrsNtywVgZt0D376BTQvVqND8KR0t7egFbhyq_xqmTW19cWAdTiRhHHVfwlGOzhG9HSwQdep_L_-kSHb15RJjn-mYRvSd-yyJLUj6HR6XDl27TQ/s1600/214.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518822218947046194" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9bmR5wAYcTTQHkeofvZ2Iigb3PqJCrsNtywVgZt0D376BTQvVqND8KR0t7egFbhyq_xqmTW19cWAdTiRhHHVfwlGOzhG9HSwQdep_L_-kSHb15RJjn-mYRvSd-yyJLUj6HR6XDl27TQ/s400/214.jpg" /></a> These next pictures were taken at the home of Miriama and her family. I’m pretty sure we’ve talked about her before. Her husband. who was blind in one eye, went to the doctor for treatment of his other eye, and somehow or other lost the sight in that eye as well. He was also deaf, and just decided he didn’t want to live with all that, so he took a pair of scissors and stabbed himself in the temple, with obvious results. She is a handsome woman of about 55 or so. She’s had a hard life. Not only has she lost her husband, but her only daughter died a few years ago from breast cancer, and Miriama is raising her daughter’s four children, plus another darling little boy, Pelese, who belongs to one of her other sons, Letoa. He’s the object of a pretty heavy custody battle between the son and ex-wife, but so far still stays with the family. She really has her hands full, but always has a smile on her face and a happy disposition. She’s just barely active in the Church, but always sends the kids. We had a family home evening on this particular night, because her other son, Ula from American Samoa, was visiting and we had met and befriended him when we first came.<br /><br />Another family we’ve visited off and on is the Auano family. The mother has been coming to church with the children, but her husband is very resistant. He’d had his feelings hurt years ago and has stayed away ever since. He has what appears to be a paralysis on one side of his face and is probably embarrassed about it. He’s a kind and hard-working man who obviously loves his family and has said that he knows he should be going to church with them. It’s not happened yet, but we keep hoping. We had a fun family home evening with them where we played games and showed them a DVD on our laptop of the Savior’s life, death and resurrection. It’s a beautifully done film and can be played with the Samoan language. They all seemed very touched by it.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNvff-KPmj-BYHMPNhTb8g6cGBMfDJ90hUzFskKxAG_ghcz-FXIGndAxprI6YozFGDdxzlaa6_wa3Lt8eyXk2OUjN_LrEMDM09ToGaEUHlM00vVdDj9up_zdy3hgP8H5QeJ1WNAj29LA/s1600/096.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518822158749676146" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNvff-KPmj-BYHMPNhTb8g6cGBMfDJ90hUzFskKxAG_ghcz-FXIGndAxprI6YozFGDdxzlaa6_wa3Lt8eyXk2OUjN_LrEMDM09ToGaEUHlM00vVdDj9up_zdy3hgP8H5QeJ1WNAj29LA/s400/096.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAvU0H_CY6CQJJgmWvAdshHPfj2hwnRmbG3ERYdiVKPvmm8u2A6HA8RQyTZfDdXSIqsy8qacJjA41YVsr3juV87isFECjf1tWWYmslJlVK2Kw_0oeBcLljs6YfU8adXKaMjVkzdDhmOQ/s1600/105.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518822114723448306" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAvU0H_CY6CQJJgmWvAdshHPfj2hwnRmbG3ERYdiVKPvmm8u2A6HA8RQyTZfDdXSIqsy8qacJjA41YVsr3juV87isFECjf1tWWYmslJlVK2Kw_0oeBcLljs6YfU8adXKaMjVkzdDhmOQ/s400/105.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ_buYjNYw0d3wZJHzLCVnQ06VBEqP34HhljDU18Hc-I9Oa_OE-T1f7PAnrmAVHcjj560HXprZ9yphHplqTGLkrd5K7ZhJ11krhNfCQWGo573NP5PkXxLqC7Rvr6gZmTcbd4estjgUiQ/s1600/108.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518822060348331074" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ_buYjNYw0d3wZJHzLCVnQ06VBEqP34HhljDU18Hc-I9Oa_OE-T1f7PAnrmAVHcjj560HXprZ9yphHplqTGLkrd5K7ZhJ11krhNfCQWGo573NP5PkXxLqC7Rvr6gZmTcbd4estjgUiQ/s400/108.jpg" /></a> The first two pictures are of some games we were playing and the third one is of the family, including an aunt and several cousins from next door, watching the DVD. The mother is on the left in the paisley blouse, the father in the far back (as usual), with the aunt in front of him.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3vBXD8lfaT5GKqem1i_4hAAkjfnW6Q4rYUOx0Us7aVXZ7ZT-2ia36uSi5UKPNlT4Yx-NqdaSsVkwIKHiyjoBkS8eWSlBbBPF0yGaUrn1YzsoZD6N_aHGKodUcK5h92eTy2H92oLB4iA/s1600/220.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518822011625202626" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3vBXD8lfaT5GKqem1i_4hAAkjfnW6Q4rYUOx0Us7aVXZ7ZT-2ia36uSi5UKPNlT4Yx-NqdaSsVkwIKHiyjoBkS8eWSlBbBPF0yGaUrn1YzsoZD6N_aHGKodUcK5h92eTy2H92oLB4iA/s400/220.jpg" /></a> these pictures were taken at a primary program in the ward we live in, McKay Ward. As you can see, it took place on the parking lot/basketball court and all the kids did some sort of native Samoan dance.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfHZZPFo1ldJlK5m8D200A6B_963AmQsg_fPw1192n7tNBRph7CXCEGI1YcCBh_voQaP5arzanXlPp1bJBmd5ukn3ru7a3y5GGaWO9XdfbvQK2xWMtVCXR5Hy4HgR3g630u6Xgntmo5g/s1600/222.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518821946042329826" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfHZZPFo1ldJlK5m8D200A6B_963AmQsg_fPw1192n7tNBRph7CXCEGI1YcCBh_voQaP5arzanXlPp1bJBmd5ukn3ru7a3y5GGaWO9XdfbvQK2xWMtVCXR5Hy4HgR3g630u6Xgntmo5g/s400/222.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx8-q2FJOKTqO6vmIF9DvffzHLGbhC_kAHqzliZ8htvuGXR5E-QgmO8ZRpqKcLTv7Q0L674dDjncO0V38C-ojVokbdJ9USQ7bSA352Hd6xVV3is0BcvKjDX2HyLZnuR19WGWdo5CDkhw/s1600/230.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518821869674177810" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx8-q2FJOKTqO6vmIF9DvffzHLGbhC_kAHqzliZ8htvuGXR5E-QgmO8ZRpqKcLTv7Q0L674dDjncO0V38C-ojVokbdJ9USQ7bSA352Hd6xVV3is0BcvKjDX2HyLZnuR19WGWdo5CDkhw/s400/230.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIoCjxLvWIIGi7i9urHorkLwaFOWYk79pYBn-RKwnSoiGMsFPcnkAfeN-2YxxgngW5g5Zoyet-SSYtN8jUVR7qWtgG3kLu5KIefLJx24qX6Yyi3frHIrKtll0MBlYsg18Q-8_cqw-h3g/s1600/236.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518821807636898386" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIoCjxLvWIIGi7i9urHorkLwaFOWYk79pYBn-RKwnSoiGMsFPcnkAfeN-2YxxgngW5g5Zoyet-SSYtN8jUVR7qWtgG3kLu5KIefLJx24qX6Yyi3frHIrKtll0MBlYsg18Q-8_cqw-h3g/s400/236.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnFotVKA3lx0BD4ZghslZVQrzUuEZrNf2wHZ0BZ1W0RTi1pn2_HH5qLgvyrKwOaLJHs_UlLsurZIqilNJ8E4op_xVKgyWgNJyGvs_uG4xKapMM7vDfCllrnKichapT8NQvloIDMuGTgw/s1600/230++3.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518821727054487938" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnFotVKA3lx0BD4ZghslZVQrzUuEZrNf2wHZ0BZ1W0RTi1pn2_HH5qLgvyrKwOaLJHs_UlLsurZIqilNJ8E4op_xVKgyWgNJyGvs_uG4xKapMM7vDfCllrnKichapT8NQvloIDMuGTgw/s400/230++3.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSDQj4YhpdKTN-bylbf7mvFCTLje_OedDJu1JqVrc2yk1GWpROZepS8wTSqR6Ht3Opfn7eiqGE6-uADHaorksC6GKzTsI1ZGCROOBsjq9Dm655vFQXQAdmHdjcF3I4Pnq_2t1BnRT8GQ/s1600/244.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518821349577729266" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSDQj4YhpdKTN-bylbf7mvFCTLje_OedDJu1JqVrc2yk1GWpROZepS8wTSqR6Ht3Opfn7eiqGE6-uADHaorksC6GKzTsI1ZGCROOBsjq9Dm655vFQXQAdmHdjcF3I4Pnq_2t1BnRT8GQ/s400/244.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigUT02q2M05ypJIxKNKbEFN-9_58sdcJX19P10S9rVL-B6wXU8oufjF1Wa4DDbEkUrdQ8UiWWaNWywcRhv1bzmutNYdbcA-CsPqbT-vN-6DYWZ1M8mk_Sh-kQ2gd7APvJbLWOgJGs8Cg/s1600/247.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518821300680196370" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigUT02q2M05ypJIxKNKbEFN-9_58sdcJX19P10S9rVL-B6wXU8oufjF1Wa4DDbEkUrdQ8UiWWaNWywcRhv1bzmutNYdbcA-CsPqbT-vN-6DYWZ1M8mk_Sh-kQ2gd7APvJbLWOgJGs8Cg/s400/247.jpg" /></a> The final two pictures were taken of a primary teacher off to the side who just couldn’t sit still when the music was playing for the kids. She put on a wonderful show, and seemed to ham it up more when she realized I was taking her picture. These folks are so spontaneous and full of fun. Many of these children were in our English class and have found a special place in our hearts. We love being associated with them and their parents, and they welcome us with open arms like family. The refer to us as their spiritual parents, and we love them as if we were.<br /><br />Since writing the earlier part of this blog segment, we did make another trip up to Vaisala last weekend and had a joyful and lazy time. It was quite rainy both days and nicely cool. Poor John couldn’t keep warm after snorkeling for awhile. I had just stayed on the beach, under a fale because of the rain and spread out my blanket and pillow and read and napped. It was just luxurious. When John came back in from snorkeling, he was too cold to go back in with me, so we just got dressed and went for a long walk in the rain, with an umbrella for each of us. We met some delightful villagers as we walked and stopped to watch some children jumping rope. I asked if I could try, acting at first as if I didn’t know what I was doing and then just took off with some of my old time jump-roping. It was such fun and they were really surprised to see this old woman jumping rope like she thought she knew what she was doing. I tried to show them how to do that cross-over thing you can do with the rope that I was so good at as a kid, but all I did was about fall on my face, so I quit trying before I embarrassed myself and John any more.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidDQBDKfsE9Znnaf-ZNHecsm64SW_NKW9-VZgWIkplEyB6WhQOXXAejSAUVHb6E6J6qJVgCkBOjRNqkAp4y1GxGNco20SlQS-lTtDBc5WkvI-IRqDK_dKYagfdDUGrJvUr4Jbe1Qt4eA/s1600/260.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518825085128989170" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidDQBDKfsE9Znnaf-ZNHecsm64SW_NKW9-VZgWIkplEyB6WhQOXXAejSAUVHb6E6J6qJVgCkBOjRNqkAp4y1GxGNco20SlQS-lTtDBc5WkvI-IRqDK_dKYagfdDUGrJvUr4Jbe1Qt4eA/s400/260.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX9J2fjOo0uKReh_odZ2HV7YYwitOJHMKVdOuie-iY6cY7S_UCImMrSXFclOK_ELdvXKqLSQxIIPV6b5lGi7Uyyrg9Z8z29_QXzs44FQ1j_8TDwwSmTG8rFnufFWSobc7aHU9AhwQ7fA/s1600/261.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518821200144522898" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX9J2fjOo0uKReh_odZ2HV7YYwitOJHMKVdOuie-iY6cY7S_UCImMrSXFclOK_ELdvXKqLSQxIIPV6b5lGi7Uyyrg9Z8z29_QXzs44FQ1j_8TDwwSmTG8rFnufFWSobc7aHU9AhwQ7fA/s400/261.jpg" /></a> We got these pictures of the kids, but gratefully John didn’t think about taking one of me until later and I was just fine with that.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9F7E-db3aEC-anKIxBI-vqo38EfY2GzpXQH4NCkZmOLOSGPQf1vHy5LdBrFnNFHCBhEt7F4itTogWgIjR5HIFCJ78h7QvnQcIJ1ls2hD77FaQGSfiMmWC8bUTtH0WjG8E6ZyXq5jXRA/s1600/264.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518821146897404210" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9F7E-db3aEC-anKIxBI-vqo38EfY2GzpXQH4NCkZmOLOSGPQf1vHy5LdBrFnNFHCBhEt7F4itTogWgIjR5HIFCJ78h7QvnQcIJ1ls2hD77FaQGSfiMmWC8bUTtH0WjG8E6ZyXq5jXRA/s400/264.jpg" /></a> We saw these kids rolling in the sand on the beach later, and tried to catch them before they ran back into the water. They were all cleaned off, but when I asked if they’d roll again so I could take their picture, they gladly granted my request.<br /><br />After a lovely dinner on the dining balcony, we went to bed early and slept in the next morning. We went for a leisurely breakfast about 9:30 and then went back out and snorkeled for another couple of hours, until poor John, who had worn two layers of t-shirts this time, just got too cold to enjoy himself. I must really get some fat on that guy. Ordinarily, it would have been much warmer, but the sun did not come out at all that day, and it sprinkled rain off and on while we were snorkeling. All in all, however, it was a very relaxing break from our very hectic schedule during the week.<br /><br />Today we spent another busy day with visits to about 6 families up in Sasa’ai, with our umbrellas again. The Ward Mission leader up there is just a super young married guy and speaks good English. He really knows his ward people and just makes them and us all feel so comfortable. At our last stop, we came to a fale with a whole bunch of people in the yard and the little work fales. They were all members of the local ward performing a service project for a family whose thatched roof needed mending. The men had cut down several of these very large bushes and had gathered up hundreds of very long, thin leaves, probably 2” x 50” long and were piling them up in the fales for the women to weave them into thatched mats for the roof. They take about 3 leaves, fold them in half over a rigid stick about 3 feet long and then stitch them in place, overlapping each set of leaves, with twine and a strange looking needle, about 1/2” wide, 1/8” thick and almost 6 inches long, made out of some different brightly colored plastic material. When we asked to see the needle up close, they informed us it was made from a toothbrush handle with the brush cut off and then sharpened. It had a hole in the flat end for the heavy twine and they could really handle it well. I never cease to be amazed at their resourcefulness. Here was a whole group of people, men and women, making the thatch for two Samoan fales and spending practically nothing but time and elbow grease. I was so disappointed that I didn’t have my camera with me, but after we got back to the car, I grabbed it and we went back to take pictures.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFy17XHaRQ7yTQKxSA0dF139I6e_sqOhBD_1e3JdefegZ8sr0r4v_cON7IA7ar1UuTGgXuoBt8pKGi7IBkcKVvB3SzVmFzAA-9EYe8boEwT7xKq4U_jz9rc9DUnQICb3j9dj-iv_SH9w/s1600/267.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518821074744494194" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFy17XHaRQ7yTQKxSA0dF139I6e_sqOhBD_1e3JdefegZ8sr0r4v_cON7IA7ar1UuTGgXuoBt8pKGi7IBkcKVvB3SzVmFzAA-9EYe8boEwT7xKq4U_jz9rc9DUnQICb3j9dj-iv_SH9w/s400/267.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1t_antTqtXy9MISx36hFI3aAWmmkdOOXjuRXrNXjcgBgDndmoTmRM-fzNBYVCU-baBGRXYVP2Qe4ytJJJapbnlogCQO-Mz9JcmoBgpFI5-B002CeSP37bK2Q7aS_3or9yEV1bpNDEhg/s1600/268.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518821003890903090" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1t_antTqtXy9MISx36hFI3aAWmmkdOOXjuRXrNXjcgBgDndmoTmRM-fzNBYVCU-baBGRXYVP2Qe4ytJJJapbnlogCQO-Mz9JcmoBgpFI5-B002CeSP37bK2Q7aS_3or9yEV1bpNDEhg/s400/268.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg44h43YL5bgyYunUYkgQAklJBvnVFmmWiPc6u_l6lLgfqwQ7be15LhBvtTnYv6r-4MPqmoOAvuW3TN1xQiuArtSajSFZQyuV85-o2rjDgInwRnlGV6s8jZgPeHNLhGWSGLkkJJAEgrxg/s1600/269.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518820926723552386" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg44h43YL5bgyYunUYkgQAklJBvnVFmmWiPc6u_l6lLgfqwQ7be15LhBvtTnYv6r-4MPqmoOAvuW3TN1xQiuArtSajSFZQyuV85-o2rjDgInwRnlGV6s8jZgPeHNLhGWSGLkkJJAEgrxg/s400/269.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGlJiT5_cV2DoHoQpYLNjrSPMOBKWCE_05VWVoVB29AJs7WfIUs1zRZ9Xah03Cic-KzM33HiSYBvsfpka0xa-iNFdR6BmenGWvRDqk33PfLxXih5OtIfb8byeVJfTFial3TSh9ZAC_Jw/s1600/275.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518820867141098562" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGlJiT5_cV2DoHoQpYLNjrSPMOBKWCE_05VWVoVB29AJs7WfIUs1zRZ9Xah03Cic-KzM33HiSYBvsfpka0xa-iNFdR6BmenGWvRDqk33PfLxXih5OtIfb8byeVJfTFial3TSh9ZAC_Jw/s400/275.jpg" /></a> Most of the men had gone by then, but the ladies were still there stitching the mats together. Notice how the women are sitting Fa’aSamoa (crosslegged). They’ve probably been sitting like that for hours on the hard wood floor in one fale, and on rocks in the other fale. A couple had woven sleeping mats on the rocks and others were sitting right on the rocks. We’ve sat in plenty of fales just like that, but they always put a woven mat down for us to sit on. (Like all Samoans, they love having their pictures taken. The great thing about digital cameras is that we can show them the pictures right on the spot. They love that.)<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8zVnfAgTTV6_l0c7TrNNc4hFghv-Mcb7zBTUT2Cc7K_TYOgEqPrkGyuE7wTkP7QUBfXqWirhUQT47osJoWT7YmqOi41Fc7R3woUMeo0Yp3lFEBJuzNZTpSQiL76BzD1ERaIsJUJkGow/s1600/280.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518820753116404338" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8zVnfAgTTV6_l0c7TrNNc4hFghv-Mcb7zBTUT2Cc7K_TYOgEqPrkGyuE7wTkP7QUBfXqWirhUQT47osJoWT7YmqOi41Fc7R3woUMeo0Yp3lFEBJuzNZTpSQiL76BzD1ERaIsJUJkGow/s400/280.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjewchhQeh9DLJFsBGHHkBs_6RejEDyTCTxFZaF6tBwv9rlsv5LfwQejhdZuEdgmbTp4DqBKY0_u7D1XQKNBKp7MGsZMzDclzhRs34CBKjwjWFVC-VI8R52fxk05JrhGiGFvjovvyny3Q/s1600/286.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518820665715438322" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjewchhQeh9DLJFsBGHHkBs_6RejEDyTCTxFZaF6tBwv9rlsv5LfwQejhdZuEdgmbTp4DqBKY0_u7D1XQKNBKp7MGsZMzDclzhRs34CBKjwjWFVC-VI8R52fxk05JrhGiGFvjovvyny3Q/s400/286.jpg" /></a></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Those women had a huge pile of thatched mats all finished and stacked to dry out before the men would come back later to “reshingle” the fales.<br /><br />I am determined to quit writing now and get the pictures in place, before we have another busy day and a new adventure to add. I see I’m already over 12 pages long and it will be more once the pictures are added, so that’s more than enough for now.<br /><br />Thanks for joining us on our Samoan odyssey. We realized that we’ve been here 8 months already, a little more than a third of our mission. We’ve had so many unusual and moving experiences and expect there’ll be many more. I think I mentioned before that when President Nelson set us apart for our mission, he told us after that he felt this was not going to be an ordinary mission. So far, he’s right on, and I’m sure we’ll see more of the same. We love it, and it’s going by too fast.<br /><br />I think I said something about quitting a couple of paragraphs ago. Sorry……All our love to everyone. We really do miss you all and truly do wish you were here.<br /><br />From Elder and Sister Krogh, John and Karen, Mom and Dad, Grandpa and GrandmaJohn & Karen Kroghhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08097598934218597824noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7660554378340018126.post-21528551609465515812010-07-25T17:19:00.000-07:002010-07-26T16:57:29.248-07:00Blog # 10 – June 28, 2010<br /><br />Here we go again with what will probably be another long posting. As I looked through my photos since I made the last posting, I had forgotten some of the things we had experienced since then. I keep saying that I must create shorter postings and do them more often, but our time is so filled with missionary activities, that I just don’t take the time after each experience to record it.<br /><br />We are really making a lot of visits to inactive families in four different wards, and have had a few small successes that I think I told you about in the last blog. One man that I might have mentioned before is an ex-patriarch who had become inactive. We’ve been visiting him and his family on and off for a couple of months. John finally started just dropping in and shooting the breeze with him about Samoan stuff. He’s not only a talking chief, but a high chief of the village over all the other lesser chiefs, sort of like a mayor. After several of these short friendly non-church visits, John up and invited him to church and he accepted. He and his family came with us the next Sunday and hopefully will start coming all the time. We’ll keep visiting them here and there, but because the Mission President has asked us to start moving out into the other wards both north and south of here, we’re going to have to make the local visits a little further apart. We’ve decided to give up the English classes because they do take a lot of time away from our more important calling and because we’ll be spending more time out of the area, it’s just not feasible to have to keep coming back twice a week for those classes. We have very mixed feelings because we’ve loved working with the kids, but it has also been a lot of preparation and stress to be ready for them every week. We’ll still see them once in a while when we come back to make a visit in their villages or at church. We are actually quite relieved to not have to worry about those classes with all the other families we are having to visit and plan family home evenings with and help to transport different ones to church.<br /><br />When we started visiting in Salelologa Ward, we visited two families whose fathers are brothers, twins in fact. One is named Liai (Lehi) and the other is Nifai (Nephi). They are part of a very active family, including their parents, wives and kids. The brothers, however, say they are the bad boys in the family because they both smoke and stay away from church. We went back for a family home evening with Nifai and had a great time with his family. We were supposed to do the same with Liai yesterday, but when we got there, the kids said their sister was sick and they’d had to take her to the doctor, so we’re scheduled with them again next week. It’s amazing to see these two brothers. They are identical twins and they look soooooo much alike, except one has longer hair than the other, or I’m not sure we’d be able to tell them apart. At some point, I’ll take a picture of them together, but we’re not really taking pictures of the inactive families we visit, until we become good friends. We don’t want to act like a couple of tourists.<br /><br />They both accepted our visits really well and asked us back. Neither has been to church yet, but we’re going to hit them both with a word of wisdom lesson sometime soon, because I think that’s what keeps them away. Another large family in that same ward has a father that had his feelings hurt a few years back, so he’s quit coming to church, though the family does attend a little. He’s a very reserved person and doesn’t speak a lot. He has a condition that John thinks is Bell’s Palsy, where one side of his face seems paralyzed. When we first visited them, he was gone up to his plantation and his wife said he was seldom home, so she wasn’t sure he’d show up for a family home evening. He actually did drive up just as we were leaving that day and John had a nice chat with him and seemed to break the ice. He was home for the family home evening and participated quite a bit. When we got ready to leave, he gave John a big hug, which surprised everybody, and he’s been there each time we’re scheduled to come back and they always fix a big Samoan feast for us. We’ve been going every week, but will have to cut back to twice a month for now, to allow time for the new wards we’ll be visiting. We’ll have to do that with the other families we see once a week as well. They always love having us come and treat us like royalty when we do. Hopefully we can help the fathers in these families to come back to church and maybe set a goal to take their families to the Temple. There’s a lot of work to do, but we do feel hopeful.<br /><br />Last month when we took our monthly trip over to Apia, we took an afternoon to go up to a lovely little historical village/school named Sauniatu. I started to give a brief description of the history, but decided to just reprint here a copy of an old Ensign article about the school up there. It is lengthy, so feel free to skip over it, but it’s a great story and I wanted to have it in our blog, which will also be our journal, so here goes:<br /><br />Brian K. Kelly, “Sauniatu: Preparing to Go Forth,” Tambuli, Jan 1978, 36<br /><br />“We loved them. That is the way to make them work.”<br /><br />“Each one of us had a job, a goal, and an objective. We knew we had to make Sauniatu stand up and be independent,” said Ed Kamauoha as he began relating the incredible story of a service project that has continued for years and dramatically influenced hundreds of lives.<br /><br />The village of Sauniatu is tucked in the crater of an extinct volcano 20 miles east of Apia on the island of Upolu in Western Samoa. Most of the island’s roads parallel the sea coast; very few lead into the interior. And though it is only four miles from the coast highway, Sauniatu is isolated. You can almost walk as fast as a car can drive up the bouncy, twisting volcanic path that appears to be a giant green tunnel through the lush growth on either side of the trail.<br /><br />The Samoan word Sauniatu means “a place to prepare.” The early Saints who established Sauniatu had a vision about the importance of this place in the Samoan history of the Church. They knew they needed a place where they could prepare and build strength. In 1904, when they established Sauniatu, they had been expelled from their villages, persecuted, and unfairly taxed for being Mormons. Later they started a school at Sauniatu, and it became one of the Church schools in Samoa. From time to time, during the ensuing years, the people of Sauniatu and the various school administrators talked about the advisability of keeping such a remote school operating.<br /><br />In 1921, when Samoan officials were wondering about continuing the village, Elder David O. McKay and Hugh Cannon visited Samoa on their around-the-world tour of the Church. It was on this visit that Elder McKay pronounced an apostolic blessing on Sauniatu and its inhabitants. Among other things, he blessed them that they would have an abundance of food and clothing, that their plantations would be fruitful, and that peace would abide in their hearts and homes. (See Improvement Era, May 1966, p. 366.)<br /><br />In December 1967, Brother Ed Ka-mauoha was appointed to be the new headmaster at Sauniatu. For years, Sauniatu had been functioning as a school, but when he arrived, the future of Sauniatu was once again in question.<br /><br />“There were real administrative questions about the efficiency and quality of the school,” he explained. Everyone in Samoa is required to take a standard government education test when they leave high school, and the Sauniatu scores were an average five points below the scores of students from the other Church schools in Samoa. In addition to the low test scores, it was costly to operate the remote school. Many of the students were from very poor families and could not afford to pay more tuition. Enthusiasm among students and teachers was low.<br /><br />“I felt bad about the school,” he said. “As an administrator, I understood the problems, but I also understood what the tradition of Sauniatu means to the Saints in Samoa. I knew the place was not what it could be because it was not living up to President McKay’s 1921 blessing.”<br /><br />Ed Kamauoha believed Sauniatu had a prophetic future yet to be fulfilled if each person living there cared. His mind remained restless and his wirey Polynesian body became charged with nervous energy as he began planning to meet the many requirements needed to make the students of Sauniatu self-sufficient and proud and to help the community of Sauniatu reap the promised blessings.<br /><br />The projects he outlined for the betterment of Sauniatu were big projects. In many people’s minds, they were too big for a handful of teachers and a few dozen school children to handle. Yet Brother Kamauoha felt they could do it.<br /><br />“Getting everyone to work on big projects is like starting a large machine. You just can’t let it idle; you have to really rev it up and keep it going,” said Brother Kamauoha.<br /><br />He also felt that the students’ performance in school would improve and the morale among the teachers would also improve if they knew they had some control over their own future. “We had been waiting for others to help us at Sauniatu,” explained Brother Kamauoha. “I tried to teach the people that they had depended too much on outside help and assistance from others. I told them the Lord gives us brains and a pair of hands but they won’t help us unless we use them. And so we started building roads, and we did it by hand.”<br /><br />As soon as the roads were passable, the young people at Sauniatu began working on other major projects. Groups worked simultaneously on a trail down the side of a cliff to the swimming hole, on roads, a nature trail, improving the plantation, and on the construction of a traditional Samoan village, including a special chief’s house in memory of President McKay’s apostolic blessing.<br /><br />It took one year to build concrete steps down a volcanic cliffside to the swimming hole and the beautiful waterfall below. Four boys worked on this project. They had two picks, two crowbars, and one sledgehammer, and they worked every night after school and every Saturday for six months. Little by little, they chipped the rock away until they had a pathway wide enough to support some concrete clear to the bottom of the waterfall. It took them another six months of backbreaking labor to make the steps. They hauled sand from the beach in an old pickup truck. They added cement and took gravel from the river and mixed the concrete by hand in a shallow pocket hollowed out of a large stone. Then they shoveled the wet concrete into buckets and lowered them down the cliff with ropes attached to a long bamboo pole. One step at a time they worked until the trail was completed.<br /><br />While the waterfall project was underway, Brother Kamauoha challenged the young girls to make a path that would lead people from the village to the waterfall. They planned one pathway, but upon inspection they could see it wasn’t right, and so Brother Kamauoha challenged them to try another one. This still wasn’t any good. They reported to him, and he confirmed that it wasn’t right and told them that the reason it wasn’t right was because they hadn’t tried hard enough. “The third time they did their best, and the planned path was perfect. It curved properly, they had avoided the boggy spots, and the entire path was ideal,” he said.<br /><br />Every evening after school, the girls carried baskets of pebbles up from the river and placed them on the path. Each of them would carry 25 to 40 baskets of rocks each evening, and with everyone working, it took only a few months to complete.<br /><br />Then the boys and girls brought young trees from the mountains to plant beside the trail. They also brought orchids, tree ferns, and other plants to make the trail beautiful. And they named their trail Losa (Rose) Lane.<br /><br />Other students were spending their evenings and Saturdays making the school plantation more productive. They planted 22,000 taro plants, 4,000 banana trees, and many pineapple plants and coconut trees.<br /><br />The young men working on the nature trail learned important design principles as they tried to clear away some of the undergrowth and trees so a person walking on the trail could see other foliage. At first, when the nature trail crew looked at the solid wall of green before them, they came back to Brother Kamauoha and told him they did not know what to cut and what to leave.<br /><br />“I told them this was their responsibility and I wasn’t doing their thinking for them. Then I asked them, ‘When you are in your fale (Samoan house) and the paule (woven blinds) are down, what do you do when you want to see out?’ And they said, ‘We move the paule aside so we can see.’ After learning this principle, they cut away some of the trees and undergrowth and created beautiful natural windows where students could come and study the plant life or just walk and think.”<br /><br />Work was also progressing on a model Samoan village to commemorate President McKay’s 1921 visit and his apostolic blessing on Sauniatu. A special chief’s house was built and named the McKay house. After it was built, it seemed bare, and so the young people went to the forests and cut teak logs. Getting each log was a big project. After finding a good tree in the forest, they had to cut it. Then each one had to be trimmed and winched onto a trailer and taken to a sawmill. After the log was sawn, a native craftsman began carving a Samoan folk legend on it. It took many months to get the log and make the carvings. The money to pay for the first few carvings had been donated by Sauniatu missionaries or others who were impressed with the vitality of the people at Sauniatu, but the young people earned the money to pay for most of the 20 carvings. They transplanted a special river grass to the swampy areas of land. By hand, they put starts of this pasture grass in acre after acre of the swampy land, and in return they were paid in cattle, which they sold to pay for the carvings.<br /><br />When the carvings were completed, Brother Kamauoha asked the carver to do a bust of President McKay. The pictures that he gave the carver to work from were all of President McKay in his later years. When Brother Kamauoha went back to pick up the bust, the carver was frustrated and related the following story.<br /><br />“Ed, I am going to tell you something. This is the first time in my life that I haven’t been able to carve what I wanted to carve. Normally, I can do anything, but somehow when I worked on this man, I couldn’t control my hands. As you can see, the carving is not like your finished pictures.”<br /><br />Brother Kamauoha took the carving back to Sauniatu that evening. “The sun was just setting, and I hurried into the McKay house and put the carving on the pedestal we had prepared for it,” he said. “An old Samoan who had lived most of his life at Sauniatu was there, and I asked him how he liked the bust of President McKay. I stood back and looked at it, and this old man didn’t answer me. And so I turned around and asked him, ‘What is wrong? Don’t you like the carving?’ Then as I looked at him, I could see the tears running down his face. And he said to me, ‘You know, I was here when [President] McKay left his blessing. That is how he looked when he came here in 1921!’<br /><br />“On another occasion, the carver told me, and remember he was not a Mormon, ‘Ed,’ he said, ‘with all sincerity I am telling you, this carving is not my work, it is not your work, but it is the Lord’s work’.”<br /><br />The Spirit was in evidence on many other occasions. At one point, it was discovered that someone was stealing the taros that had taken so much labor to plant. No one at Sauniatu seemed to know anything about it, and Brother Kamauoha became very concerned. That night, he prayed for direction in solving this problem. His prayer was answered with a dream in which he saw two villagers stealing the taros from the plantation. He saw how they were digging them up, cutting the leaves off the roots, and sticking the leaves back into the ground. He saw where they were hiding the taro roots and how they would come back for them later in the night. The next day, he called the two men into his office and asked them why they had been stealing the taros. They were belligerent and asked, “What makes you think we are the ones?”<br /><br />Brother Kamauoha replied, “I know you are stealing the taros because the Lord showed me in a dream.” Then he related step by step just how they had done it. “They cried, were very sorry, and learned a great lesson about lying: You can lie to another man, but you cannot lie to God.<br /><br />“I have had many experiences that have made me realize that the Lord will help you to do the impossible. When you operate like this, you learn that keeping the Spirit is the most important thing.<br /><br />“One day, we had a work crew organized, and we needed 13,000 fathoms of sennett (rope made from coconut husks) to tie the pieces of the roof on the McKay house together. I had received promises from many people that they would supply the rope, but when I went to pick it up, no one had it ready. After driving all over the island, I had collected only about 30 fathoms. I was discouraged, and so I complained to God. In my prayers, I said, ‘We are working hard, and yet I can’t get the help I need.’<br /><br />“I had to stop at the mission home to confirm another appointment, and one of the supervising elders said, ‘Brother Kamauoha, I have some sennett you can use.’<br /><br />“I thought, ‘How nice,’ but I was sure an elder’s little souvenir roll of sennett wouldn’t really help us. He went into his room and came out with this big roll. He handed it to me and said he had about 13,000 fathoms as he wanted to build a Samoan fale (house) with it when he got home to the U.S.<br /><br />“You can bet I hurriedly went back to the Lord and retracted my complaining. I was truly sorry for ever being discouraged.”<br /><br />When the various projects were well into their second year, Brother Kamauoha reported that the people really learned that a job is not done until it is complete. After building roads, bridges, and the steps to the waterfall, the people at Sauniatu had to put in a culinary water system. They wanted to pipe water from a spring. They had no money for pipe, so they dug up some old pipe that had been used years before and cleaned it in the river. Then they painted the usable pieces. They only had enough good pipe to make a straight line from the spring to the village. Seventy-five feet of lava bedrock lay in the path of their trench.<br /><br />“I told them, ‘We have enough good pipe to make a straight pipeline. So if you want water and you want it badly enough, then you’ll have to cut through the bedrock to the spring!’ A big Samoan man named Faleow Itopi, who had worked extra hard on every project said, ‘Why, after what we have done, this little bedrock is nothing.’<br /><br />“We worked into the nights with lanterns. Faleow’s hands were bleeding, but he set an example for the students and showed them how to work. He was that way in all of his projects. When he built roads, he always built them too long rather than too short. He never took a shortcut because his heart was in the right place.”<br /><br />From Ed Kamauoha and Faleow Itopi and other leaders like them, the young people of Sauniatu learned that despite being poor and often scorned by other men, they are important to the Lord, and he will help them be “Number 1.” Wherever they have gone as they have left Sauniatu, they have established the reputation of working hard and being the best.<br /><br />Most of the young men who worked on Sauniatu went on missions. Elder Pouono Lameka is now serving a mission in Western Samoa. He spent three years at Sauniatu. He worked on the farm and the waterfall besides going to school. When he talks about his experiences at Sauniatu, his eyes shine and his face looks happy.<br /><br />“I expanded at Sauniatu,” he said. “Brother Kamauoha encouraged me in school so that I improved and graduated from high school. He was my teacher—now he is my friend.”<br /><br />Most of the students said they are grateful that they learned how to work, and they feel that this experience has helped them to face almost any problem. Mati Fuifatu said, “Ed taught me how to do things and then made it my responsibility to get them done.”<br /><br />While the projects were being finished, the Sauniatu students’ academic ratings rose. They gained feelings of independence and pride and in three years raised themselves from the bottom of the standard test to the top scores in all the Church schools.<br /><br />Poao and Atalina Ahhow met while they were both single teachers at Sauniatu. After they were married, they decided to go to BYU—Hawaii Campus and get additional schooling. Atalina said she learned about being a good mother and teaching a family from watching the young people work on the various projects.<br /><br />“I also learned that you need to check after a project is done. If it isn’t right, do it over,” she said.<br /><br />Her husband, Poao, said that he learned leadership skills, and once he caught the vision of doing the impossible, he felt he could go away for additional schooling so he could become a better teacher. “I learned that sometimes when the work is very hard, if you make a joke and smile, it seems easier.”<br /><br />Poao and Atalina struggled at BYU—Hawaii because they didn’t have much money. “We had learned to sacrifice while at Sauniatu, and the Lord blessed us for it. When we needed money to do our washing, we would visit a pool near the temple. Every time we needed a quarter for the washing machine, it was waiting for us in the pool. Sometimes more was there, but we only took enough to do our washing. When we didn’t need money, we never saw money in the pool. This is one way the Lord helped us,” Poao said.<br /><br />Brother Folau Neria and his wife, Leute, think of Sauniatu as a place of blessings because they have seen the Lord’s hand there. They were dorm parents while most of the work was being done, and Sister Neria worked with the girls who made one of the roads.<br /><br />Brother Neria explained his feelings about Sauniatu. “I love that place. That’s where I met my sweetheart in 1942. Some of the first schoolteachers there taught me. I learned to take care of the work of the Lord there.<br /><br />“We built that place with our hands and made it beautiful, then the Lord blessed it for us. Taros, bananas, everything grows better there than in any other place in Samoa.<br /><br />“We learned how to work together and to teach each other to work. I was serving as bishop, and I learned that if we show people how to work and start first, they will soon follow.”<br /><br />The spirit of Sauniatu seems to affect everyone who goes there. Brother Isamaeli, who works on maintenance at the school, said that he didn’t want to come at first. “But,” he said, “after I had been at Sauniatu for a while, I felt the Spirit of the Lord upon my family. I knew it was a blessing to be here. When my family is sick, I administer to them and they get better. Before we came here, my wife and I quarreled many times, and sometimes I lost patience with her. But I’m glad to say that now we have a very happy family.<br />“It is nice to live in a place that is far away from town and other big villages. It is very quiet, and we are free from drunkards, robbers, and other people who cause trouble.”<br /><br />Today Losa Lane aptly fits President McKay’s description of Sauniatu as “the most beautiful place o n earth.” The young people walking beneath the palms and orchids are beautiful. They love the Lord and work hard to improve themselves and live the gospel. And every year, a few of them are prepared to go forth into the world. They take the lessons of Sauniatu with them. And there is a great principle of leadership training that was used to teach all the lessons of Sauniatu: “We loved them,” said Brother Neria. “That is the way to make them work.”<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYqKlhlPYXxWjiipk4FGOmdqYY1WSrCF8AuCwGnvTRUusfNfaAVcJGabrU_m-kXn3wWjF55RsUFm9fQ8Kx3HAga-ouuFALUfZfR2rWxIysL4cOncNlXrr67XimkpYwUyR1EjQ0Np_2dA/s1600/999.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498007916125419346" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYqKlhlPYXxWjiipk4FGOmdqYY1WSrCF8AuCwGnvTRUusfNfaAVcJGabrU_m-kXn3wWjF55RsUFm9fQ8Kx3HAga-ouuFALUfZfR2rWxIysL4cOncNlXrr67XimkpYwUyR1EjQ0Np_2dA/s400/999.jpg" /></a>This first picture is of the main street of Sauniatu looking toward the ridge of the old volcano.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj54koD4iQRituly8igT8YWXJcJTdynXzdH-tybYiC8rQ5DsTZmz3PcMeLerYQbwXPg9Udqq6SDHEoQD0stmCoNXc1qsKUa7N1GcXGyrarkiloqkIiM3C2CP0FdOFiVHui-SBSImfg59Q/s1600/002.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498007636106251186" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj54koD4iQRituly8igT8YWXJcJTdynXzdH-tybYiC8rQ5DsTZmz3PcMeLerYQbwXPg9Udqq6SDHEoQD0stmCoNXc1qsKUa7N1GcXGyrarkiloqkIiM3C2CP0FdOFiVHui-SBSImfg59Q/s400/002.jpg" /></a> The second picture is of the “old swimming hole with waterfall” where they built the steps down a cliff to gain easy access to it. After climbing down the steps on that cliff, we gained a huge appreciation for what they went through to build them. Unfortunately, my photo of the steps didn’t turn out, but trust me, they were amazing and very steep.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh57Y6r0KcoPBuD4ze8FytPrkLYnyEbJ4BRVNKo7bWZwbDi9NnICWaVuB0E6kKOmCpc2NId2AV0bTrVhe7sdwSIrhJw6822PVtGc4-WhlSQ5WpuRvW1qrfkt6j1M3RaGk3uLbnYzqwgPg/s1600/010.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498007456556271090" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh57Y6r0KcoPBuD4ze8FytPrkLYnyEbJ4BRVNKo7bWZwbDi9NnICWaVuB0E6kKOmCpc2NId2AV0bTrVhe7sdwSIrhJw6822PVtGc4-WhlSQ5WpuRvW1qrfkt6j1M3RaGk3uLbnYzqwgPg/s400/010.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFd8Pzzq2041yiAJVJ4eaa0xglk5T2bxL5DxFApu2FJc0MN2wr3aHdOGcsPGYatIe4lE1DKt8c-FZN5afOQcwnpgmsBAhA-nvmKPpMpxrfrPaIxu_dFrqEyb9CPnCBRzOR8Aiaf0oVuA/s1600/015.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498007238941021330" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFd8Pzzq2041yiAJVJ4eaa0xglk5T2bxL5DxFApu2FJc0MN2wr3aHdOGcsPGYatIe4lE1DKt8c-FZN5afOQcwnpgmsBAhA-nvmKPpMpxrfrPaIxu_dFrqEyb9CPnCBRzOR8Aiaf0oVuA/s400/015.jpg" /></a> When we were coming back up from the swimming hole and headed back to the village, we could hear a lot of noisy children playing off to the side of the trail. As we walked through the trees and toward the sound, we saw about a dozen kids playing in the river above where it feeds over the waterfall and into the swimming/bathing hole. They were sliding down a mud slide and into the water, or jumping off the side of a small cliff to make a big splash. They just had their regular clothes on, as all the Samoans do when they swim, and were obviously having a marvelous time. I’m not sure if they were from the village just below Sauniatu, or the children of teachers who live up on the main street pictured earlier.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCykjmFqo4Bw-J17HGOkix6aVEcCv8JPObBIpJ77-7uQvHyYdypwAQy6j1buQ6RH43Gk4nssv0BmYWgywXE7v80kAfgMppxUeFk__mkubm2vPEiRtJu9GnUZQOW6Iip4wBh5_44BpcHA/s1600/021.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498006738183051602" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCykjmFqo4Bw-J17HGOkix6aVEcCv8JPObBIpJ77-7uQvHyYdypwAQy6j1buQ6RH43Gk4nssv0BmYWgywXE7v80kAfgMppxUeFk__mkubm2vPEiRtJu9GnUZQOW6Iip4wBh5_44BpcHA/s400/021.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ2QLYkRtGHvyhMochRNXl3p3aTUy8p1JQkZniOFJqHDLJnq6Y_LrHvYKyQtt597ahhCAxdu6qI2HgpHA8HBHejUiflg9mwNBa_ucsexJ0fg4JMd8oEFHGxw_jIWAcN5uFQXwlf4laCQ/s1600/022.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498006482291530114" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ2QLYkRtGHvyhMochRNXl3p3aTUy8p1JQkZniOFJqHDLJnq6Y_LrHvYKyQtt597ahhCAxdu6qI2HgpHA8HBHejUiflg9mwNBa_ucsexJ0fg4JMd8oEFHGxw_jIWAcN5uFQXwlf4laCQ/s400/022.jpg" /></a> The David O. McKay story and the apostolic blessing he pronounced upon Sauniatu is a very important part of the history and tradition of the place. The first picture is of a special Samoan fale that was built in his honor and the second one is of the inside where there are several intricate wood carvings depicting aspects of the history and culture of the area. When we were here before, the carved ‘miracle’ bust of David O. Mckay that was mentioned in the history above, was mounted on a pedestal either near or inside the fale. We couldn’t find it this time around. It could be that they moved it inside a museum or something. I forgot to ask about it before we left. The floor of the fale is covered with small smooth stones, averaging about 2” in diameter. When we were here five years ago, we were told that part of the legend is that if you take a stone home with you, you’ll be assured of returning someday. We all picked one up to take with us. I put mine in my purse and didn’t think about it again until I went through security at the airport on the way out of Samoa. Apparently, it looked too much like a small weapon (this was 2005) and was confiscated by the security guard. I was disappointed to lose my souvenir and the assurance that I’d return, but I came back anyway. When I mentioned that story to the Missionary couple that showed us around up there, they said they’d not heard of that tradition. I guess maybe they got tired of having to keep replacing the stones on the floor.<br /><br />There’s one Senior missionary couple that lives up there and helps to manage the cocoanut and banana plantations and the other fund-raising projects that help keep the school self-sustaining, like taro patches, vegetable gardens, cattle, pigs and chickens. A portion of these commodities help supply the school, but a good many are marketed and bring in good income to the school. The students do most of the labor, some in exchange for their tuition and expenses. It’s quite a remarkable place and set in the most beautiful location imaginable. Apparently the Church is planning a huge expansion of the nearby area for tourists, with a large camping and recreation area scheduled for this next year, and if it stays on schedule, the first phase should be completed before we leave here. I’ve forgotten what all the other plans were beyond that first phase, but I do remember that they sounded pretty amazing.<br /><br />Tourism is the #1 or #2 source of revenue in Samoa, so I’m sure the new projects in Sauniatu are intended to capitalize on that. We disagreed on which was first or second, so I’ll say that interestingly, the other #1 or #2 source of revenue is money from people who’ve left Samoa to work overseas and send money home. Most families we meet have someone from their family living and working in New Zealand, Australia, Hawaii, or mainland America and all sending money back to Samoa. The job market is pretty minimal here, especially here on Savaii. Many young people have to go over to Upolo or American Samoa to find work. There are plenty more of them here on the island, just barely making ends meet by working on the family plantations. Fortunately, a family can survive fairly well by growing their own food and catching fish and all sorts of other exotic creatures from the sea; but getting ahead or enjoying any kind of technology or luxury is almost out of the question for many families. They do amazingly well, however, and are incredibly resourceful with what they have. I can hardly believe how many everyday items are made from the vast array of plants and trees at their fingertips. They’ve been creating these Samoan houses, floor and sleeping mats, baskets, fans, hats, roman-like shades, etc. and etc. for generations. They are beautiful, functional, and bio-degradable when they are worn out and discarded, and then replaced from the never-ending supply of natural resources that surround them. I could write a book on the creativity I see in their making do with what’s available to them. The things I’m talking about may not always be what you’d call aesthetic design, but in terms of function they put surprising pieces of so-called junk together to solve some sticky problems. We laughed at first, but now we are just in awe of their resourcefulness. I’ve got to try to get pictures of some of this stuff, and especially some of the little boys’ toys we see around and what they’re made of. It’s all really quite wonderful.<br /><br />We started our visits in a new ward up north today and had a great time. The Ward Mission leader is a very enthusiastic guy, who served his mission in Honolulu and speaks very good English. Halleluiah for me. We visited one family where the mother was widowed with children and took care of her aging mother-in-law. We were told by the mission leader that we could expect a lot of talking from the old grandma, even though she is completely blind. He was right. She not only talked a blue streak, but sang several songs for us, in both Samoan and Engish. We’ll continue to make visits to them periodically over the next couple of months. I’m not sure that getting away to church is realistic for the mother right now, because of caring for the old grandma. When we have situations like this, we like to take copies of the Liahona for them to read and try to schedule Family Home Evenings to bring a little of the gospel into their homes.<br /><br />These next pictures were taken at a Stake Young Single Adult (YSA) talent show. It was so much fun to watch these young adults, some of whom we’ve thought of as being quite reserved, just open up and really put on a show. Each ward in the stake, of which there are 12, had their YSA perform some sort of talent. There were a few very small groups, but mostly large groups, that participated from each ward. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKEfLPHPc5UN9z16KEzT59h6FGqs0nsjtDvfn2HL6iVa-xhfJK3rxHsNtFJSTFbTE3c-z1JLnowzcyt1j8oVcHjycn_mibA1k9PO4G3ejpWVYtGntrSN74_XNKUSbVJhTdX-jKphuz3Q/s1600/snow+white.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498367926094275986" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKEfLPHPc5UN9z16KEzT59h6FGqs0nsjtDvfn2HL6iVa-xhfJK3rxHsNtFJSTFbTE3c-z1JLnowzcyt1j8oVcHjycn_mibA1k9PO4G3ejpWVYtGntrSN74_XNKUSbVJhTdX-jKphuz3Q/s400/snow+white.jpg" /></a>This group put on their version of Snow White and the 7 Dwarfs. It was actually pretty well done and was just hilarious.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg28D39QDR17HKoa0n0SxxHKB-mW8grYBKJbvSKvp5KsD_ZhkjjS7TRcNlVSGY8YYVQCNXSBgLmLT7gkksSzzVSGSVO1vy7TQQn2c-IyaRovdXIUQjv9GN1dCGpBOTC8R8L0BCewiIV-Q/s1600/068.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498006290234001890" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg28D39QDR17HKoa0n0SxxHKB-mW8grYBKJbvSKvp5KsD_ZhkjjS7TRcNlVSGY8YYVQCNXSBgLmLT7gkksSzzVSGSVO1vy7TQQn2c-IyaRovdXIUQjv9GN1dCGpBOTC8R8L0BCewiIV-Q/s400/068.jpg" /></a> The Fusi ward YSA put together a lovely ballroom dance. It was so interesting to see them all dressed in formal attire and doing a pretty fair job of a classic Waltz. A few groups did traditional Samoan Dances, but the men’s group really stole the show<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX6kekTorxGF_hTvpbJtS31gp0AOsTgtXaAk8mSOh6-cv9qgBMPEAxBqVbrUMo9ekYn5c8y920CyPwMPKQyFLYpB-k08QBYZINk0oP1N1yBjzKE5G7cVh-5jEJI1s7CtoWo5CjV0wluA/s1600/072.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498006051761060978" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX6kekTorxGF_hTvpbJtS31gp0AOsTgtXaAk8mSOh6-cv9qgBMPEAxBqVbrUMo9ekYn5c8y920CyPwMPKQyFLYpB-k08QBYZINk0oP1N1yBjzKE5G7cVh-5jEJI1s7CtoWo5CjV0wluA/s400/072.jpg" /></a> There’s a great number of very active single adults here on Savaii. The average marrying age is probably above 25. John and I were supposed to give a dating seminar to a group of high-school-age young men and women a few weeks back. What a challenge for us, since they don’t really date at that age like they do at home. In the first place, there’s really nowhere to go, no movies, ice cream parlors, bowling alleys, miniature golf, etc., and if they did have a place to go, practically none of them have cars. When we asked different married couples we knew how they had gotten together, they’d say things like “Well, we were from the same village and we just talked to each other a lot and decided to get married.” Several said that most of their “dates” were just a long bus ride together, or an appointment to meet at the big market and spend some time together. The Bishop gave us a New Era that was completely devoted to dating. The fireside was up in Vaiola, where everyone speaks English, which made it a little easier for us. We finally realized that what we had to focus on with that group was for them to set goals about what kind of person they would like as a future partner, and what they could do for themselves now to make themselves “datable” to the right kind of person. Gratefully, we accidently had the help of the Bishop who is now the new Seminary teacher up in Vaiola. We were turning the corner on the road that heads up to Vaiola, when a man with a big back-pack kind of waved us over. We stopped and he asked if we were going up to Vaiola, probably because any Palagi that was headed that direction must have something to do with the school. We were actually only going a little way up that road to another chapel, but were a little early and told him we could give him a ride. We didn’t know him from Adam, but figured if he was headed for Vaiola, he was probably okay. He was way more than okay. We found out he was going to be teaching seminary at the school, but was still based over in Apia because he was a bishop there and his family would be staying there until the school break. He was commuting every weekend by ferry, and the bus had brought him as far as the Vaiola road. After finding our who he was and what he was doing, we started telling him about this dating fireside we would be giving at Vaiola and were stymied as to how to do it. He spoke up and said “Oh dating—my favorite subject.” He told us how he had been so concerned about their youth and their lack of opportunities to get acquainted with potential dating partners and a lot of times people got married without really knowing each other very well, and then the marriages fall apart. He consented to assist us with the fireside and was a huge help. It actually turned out pretty well, to our great relief.<br /><br />Samoan custom makes it very difficult for young people to get acquainted. There is virtually no showing of affection between male and female in public--no hand-holding, linked arms, or arms around each other—and that includes married people. We still don’t know which of many of the married couples belong to each other at church, because they never sit together, with the exception of a few newly married young couples. The men sit on one side, the women on the other and the children sit down through the middle, boys with boys, girls with girls, and small children wandering from mom to dad, then brother and sister and neighbor. We’re slowly putting families together, but not because we actually see them together in public. This all makes the dating scene practically non-existent. The YSA activities are where they finally start mingling a little with the opposite sex, and let me tell you the attendance is huge at those activities. When they are finally 18 and can start to participate, they go anyplace where young single adults might be, at church, MTC class, Institute class, dances, firesides, YSA conferences, etc. Thank heaven the churches give the kids somewhere to go to be together that is acceptable to their parents. No wonder the YSA is such a large active group.<br /><br />One of the young adults that we’ve made good friends with is Etuale. He’s a young man about 23 yrs. old, who was from an inactive family and was doing some pretty crazy things himself—smoking, drinking, etc. Somehow he just decided he needed to straighten up and get back to church, and so he did. Now he’s planning on going on a mission, has turned in his papers and is just waiting for a call. Because the Ward Mission Leader in that ward is so busy working trying to make ends meet, he suggested that Etuale go with us and show us where the inactive families lived and then he joins us in the visits. We think he’s kind of alone a lot. He’s an only child, all of his old buddies are still drinking and smoking, and he doesn’t really have a job or the money to go to school. Once he serves his mission, he’ll be eligible to apply to the Perpetual Education Fund for a school loan. He does go to all the YSA activities, but also spends a lot of time with us, including fixing and bringing us dinner once in a while.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqYIKl2dFwVGziLISbqkC1ySubUm4Iku5KZxApEVteaPj8ObFvg1m6rYTMnPAhSzKrNXfigC8DvdQGjduqdDD-ovRMhQ4_WBjKVtkuLwZ48Cod46KlUAuOI8WhwW8WaCz9ajHh5eXnyg/s1600/078.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498005910668089970" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqYIKl2dFwVGziLISbqkC1ySubUm4Iku5KZxApEVteaPj8ObFvg1m6rYTMnPAhSzKrNXfigC8DvdQGjduqdDD-ovRMhQ4_WBjKVtkuLwZ48Cod46KlUAuOI8WhwW8WaCz9ajHh5eXnyg/s400/078.jpg" /></a> He still has some experience to acquire where cooking is concerned, but he tries so hard to please us and we try so hard to enjoy the chicken that’s not quite cooked, the ramen noodles that are too salty, etc., etc. We’re thinking that the sooner that mission call comes, the better for us all. He has some experience to acquire where ward missionary work is concerned as well. We’ve been grateful for his help and he is so enthusiastic about it, but he doesn’t really have the right information about which families would be good potentials for reactivation. Some that we’ve visited have actually been very active and seemed to wonder what we were even doing there. Other visits, we didn’t know who we were visiting, what their status was in the church, and in one case we ended up giving a long lesson and testimonies to one young teenage boy with a blank look, that John was sure was the father of the family. He didn’t look any more that about 16 to me, and we never got the right info from Etuale. So we never found out who the young man was, until Etuale took us back to that fale again and we met the parents this time. We’ve had a really terrific man, who is high priest group leader, offer to take us on those visits because he knows the mission leader hasn’t been available, but we haven’t the heart to hurt Etuale. So we’re just working in other wards right now and when he leaves on his mission, if there isn’t a new mission leader, we’ll take Bro. Faleni (H.P. group leader) up on his offer and maybe get some better results from those visits, like we have in the other wards.<br /><br />One thing that we really see a lot of in Samoa are big old churches. Many of them are quite well kept up and others could use a facelift. We had driven by this old church several times and commented on how much it needed to be fixed up.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidq5KkeH_MTXKu38su9sTctpSVrrcBZt82vOSwNQ_yKGvhlwGZ8c5pF6IDVByXPXujOsEUMSG2oNrXG5Z5eM80tDC9MGUXHcx80BO-M_8Fh72_aHZzv_MXtILQNknnhnumLvw9Q14YBQ/s1600/796.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 299px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498005728713661506" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidq5KkeH_MTXKu38su9sTctpSVrrcBZt82vOSwNQ_yKGvhlwGZ8c5pF6IDVByXPXujOsEUMSG2oNrXG5Z5eM80tDC9MGUXHcx80BO-M_8Fh72_aHZzv_MXtILQNknnhnumLvw9Q14YBQ/s400/796.jpg" /></a> One day we were driving by and noticed the scaffolding being put up around the front and figured that it’s time for a makeover had finally come. We drove by it every couple of days for over two months and watched the work slowly progress.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5cCfrRhV5y841T8m-c15bJfhz52M2JdFdQ3Qes_3f6WafHUO1-Yhtq8mR4kVHE3vBVPENwwBtkIUXdX6h1k6KIoxpo6UhSfvYbJJ4Hl3iI82U23BW-lflDCFIwuSFpUwGLb2QOBoR9w/s1600/084.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498005500352041954" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5cCfrRhV5y841T8m-c15bJfhz52M2JdFdQ3Qes_3f6WafHUO1-Yhtq8mR4kVHE3vBVPENwwBtkIUXdX6h1k6KIoxpo6UhSfvYbJJ4Hl3iI82U23BW-lflDCFIwuSFpUwGLb2QOBoR9w/s400/084.jpg" /></a> Finally we were able to take this picture of the spectacular results. Every square inch of surface, from the rooftop to the foundations, stairs and balustrades has a new coat of paint. For a person who loves to see old buildings rejuvenated, this was a joy for me to watch. I’m sure it was for the members of that congregation as well.<br /><br />One weekend last month, some elders in our zone, who are laboring in another stake area, invited us to their big stake music festival over in Fa’aala Stake. We had spoken at their stake conference earlier and the music had been just fabulous, so we juggled our schedule around so that we could attend and it was well worth the effort and the trip. A choir from each of about 10 wards in the stake performed some really wonderful music. Each choir was required to perform a rendition of the same hymn and the different interpretations were just great. Then they each sang another special number of their choice. Now Samoan choirs take their musical performances very seriously. Not only do they perform difficult, but well rehearsed, music, but they are all dressed in some special way. It may be nothing more than all dressed in a white shirt or blouse with a matching beaded chain around their necks. Other choirs went all out and it really added to a bombardment of our senses to not only hear the great music, but see how creative they were in their choir dress.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8pPahOon0892iBymD7abnRT5fOHt486jeYc0ZGECjVBc7sxcb6uQmq3R24St9PX0T24xLC12z_2jNlr7hIxDy5o0mVFWDnJjUGxqQgqrqMbC2-fvwDnNupzjJe1pM8ENv6ZWr4S-Wkw/s1600/086.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498005187829709298" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8pPahOon0892iBymD7abnRT5fOHt486jeYc0ZGECjVBc7sxcb6uQmq3R24St9PX0T24xLC12z_2jNlr7hIxDy5o0mVFWDnJjUGxqQgqrqMbC2-fvwDnNupzjJe1pM8ENv6ZWr4S-Wkw/s400/086.jpg" /></a> Most choirs had small children and they were so enthusiastic and well taught, several in bare feet, and just as comfortable as you please.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvXIAphyphenhyphenV8FwmXjxv663E12ouUyYRSnIkcWCQvZFih07bjKX6_3ebg76TY0an5acI6ySaemg12-oagUrx0kHqFanc4ESaExsqIoMPgY6PbIat7FLlNAb3bzvqBb5HZj_iqqyhWsjxWtg/s1600/088.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498004985203892418" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvXIAphyphenhyphenV8FwmXjxv663E12ouUyYRSnIkcWCQvZFih07bjKX6_3ebg76TY0an5acI6ySaemg12-oagUrx0kHqFanc4ESaExsqIoMPgY6PbIat7FLlNAb3bzvqBb5HZj_iqqyhWsjxWtg/s400/088.jpg" /></a> This choir had fancy satin choir robes and a very animated dancing conductor. I wish I could have had a video of his conducting. It was amazingly choreographed.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz0FmB-O7WLBbUmwyZ9C4U61O2XsGijndZlew7uy7DAI05lsjh8H93LUmKlGW8VYI5y_68zlkJHix4YVZf_zlqNc8cZspoTxxoygDBBVVXUgk8giZwy3McvhoMucmNcdqJ6NSWi6h_Hg/s1600/093.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498004747213775106" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz0FmB-O7WLBbUmwyZ9C4U61O2XsGijndZlew7uy7DAI05lsjh8H93LUmKlGW8VYI5y_68zlkJHix4YVZf_zlqNc8cZspoTxxoygDBBVVXUgk8giZwy3McvhoMucmNcdqJ6NSWi6h_Hg/s400/093.jpg" /></a> Another huge choir of over 90 singers (we counted all that we could see) were decked out in spiffy green and white outfits.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRUj1yTU0bz9XU7JblKZLLTPBTUnlvf9M3g9m5Zntvqt3wfwJLLYFdoCK-ZpcVOlpgOexH6kVeOADOhfDupd1qa0nXLdO4PG2cDAgdPAE-Eewt7sKaj61fz21__1VrnThB1I21xKz3Mw/s1600/102.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498004538573547906" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRUj1yTU0bz9XU7JblKZLLTPBTUnlvf9M3g9m5Zntvqt3wfwJLLYFdoCK-ZpcVOlpgOexH6kVeOADOhfDupd1qa0nXLdO4PG2cDAgdPAE-Eewt7sKaj61fz21__1VrnThB1I21xKz3Mw/s400/102.jpg" /></a> The next group all had similar styles of dresses, and all made from the same print fabric, including the accompanist.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC4apFm741S4HiTMci0oHwSnjFGxbh9KPJvr37vZS7QyZDj3P0x4cwXLnHl1HRcxPlmdXzwCsuFWZXL01QJJCLA6nZ5Sytv88jEyRuuHAV7UgHoAdImTFYNNXtSWBvDldu64qBRs5m1Q/s1600/105.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498004362538599522" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC4apFm741S4HiTMci0oHwSnjFGxbh9KPJvr37vZS7QyZDj3P0x4cwXLnHl1HRcxPlmdXzwCsuFWZXL01QJJCLA6nZ5Sytv88jEyRuuHAV7UgHoAdImTFYNNXtSWBvDldu64qBRs5m1Q/s400/105.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-SmxFSFH6ohkFeIhKIjaxEQ8-Fv1MWELTJTvMkS8ITzrV242LJ5W2jFPVAShIuw4hsUyj15R0T_lsFFkImvLwv48N7KLlw4F1FQ1RGCd7O5ta7VPK9WWcCISXAOysKq52MyF6niGvCQ/s1600/107.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498004219026442834" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-SmxFSFH6ohkFeIhKIjaxEQ8-Fv1MWELTJTvMkS8ITzrV242LJ5W2jFPVAShIuw4hsUyj15R0T_lsFFkImvLwv48N7KLlw4F1FQ1RGCd7O5ta7VPK9WWcCISXAOysKq52MyF6niGvCQ/s400/107.jpg" /></a> The final choir was conducted by the same man who conducted the Stake Conference choir that I raved about a few months back. He stood in front of the choir, with the keyboard at his fingertips and accompanied the choir while he conducted them with his head movements. As you can see, they were all dressed in purple and white and black, with fancy dresses for the women, vests and bowties for the men. Their special number was a rousing rendition of “The Spirit of God Like a Fire is Burning,” featuring a children’s choir who sang a beautiful descant to the final chorus that really raised the roof. It was thrilling.<br /><br />We had wonderful seats, not because we had arrived early in order to get good seats, but because we arrived just as it was starting and the huge stake center cultural hall was totally packed. When we walked in the entrance and peaked in the hall to see where the seats were, we were motioned up front where they had pulled two chairs in from the hall when they saw us and plunked us right down on the front row. There are some real advantages to being Palagi (white) missionaries who are also very old. I’m sure we were the only Palagis on the premises, which we’re starting to not even think about anymore. Needless to say, we had a wonderful time and were thrilled by their performances.<br /><br />Last week we had the privilege of taking on the role of tour guides for a young family who came to Vaiola to do volunteer service training for the new counselor at the school.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq7mkC4NiTiSJDSAfHUDMchvWt-uwNjJef5J8mm9TC7OYDIIEGzx19zXrzWcl8ZFxhpjcPGfCBqCaLxSWYcthzV2hBvpYCoiIBjyHS0rDYzxMLDbyz2yp0dzNET6N5W2I9sXDibeFaJg/s1600/086+evans.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498004080747516994" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq7mkC4NiTiSJDSAfHUDMchvWt-uwNjJef5J8mm9TC7OYDIIEGzx19zXrzWcl8ZFxhpjcPGfCBqCaLxSWYcthzV2hBvpYCoiIBjyHS0rDYzxMLDbyz2yp0dzNET6N5W2I9sXDibeFaJg/s400/086+evans.jpg" /></a> They are Randy and Janelle Evans from Orem, Utah and have three darling children, Kristen, Spencer and Rachel, ages 6,4 and almost 2, I think. Randy works as a counselor at a Jr. High in Orem and took advantage of this opportunity to live in Samoa for three weeks as the only Palagis up at the school. They paid for their own transportation and food, but their housing was all covered by the school, as well as access to a car part of the time. We had a great time showing them around Savaii. We spent time at a couple of beaches—the black sand beach where we played in some treacherous waves. They didn’t look too big, but they had a very strong undertow.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj31L0qQx1cJkuFMF_73NWvrpIY-iVCuFji_P8upB1NtUhpYiCapAvtwxf_9JTGAqXhM2dLsRhMbnZd1wX5yGY8kiaPubCQESDCighDNu7RFO7C0rny-bQm8PlmhY0lOCuxHw3ttmGciw/s1600/046.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498003777859084210" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj31L0qQx1cJkuFMF_73NWvrpIY-iVCuFji_P8upB1NtUhpYiCapAvtwxf_9JTGAqXhM2dLsRhMbnZd1wX5yGY8kiaPubCQESDCighDNu7RFO7C0rny-bQm8PlmhY0lOCuxHw3ttmGciw/s400/046.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyVrLNLq2NFwTNYO9j50bJlZ1_2cQtz37qqSw72JvIsYfrR1XolmsNzO_xLYqjfHvHeEe8m0ygjlIs0BSg8cvjpA6XphWgB5gmZtSdxd5I0sMK2C9uBnDZcogapEANFnQSF689TmTHxg/s1600/047.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498003446808185986" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyVrLNLq2NFwTNYO9j50bJlZ1_2cQtz37qqSw72JvIsYfrR1XolmsNzO_xLYqjfHvHeEe8m0ygjlIs0BSg8cvjpA6XphWgB5gmZtSdxd5I0sMK2C9uBnDZcogapEANFnQSF689TmTHxg/s400/047.jpg" /></a> John went out with Kristen just to wade, but they both got pretty wet, especially when a surprise big wave knocked Kristen down and John had to pull her out. She was actually very fearless up to that point, but I think she was a little cautious after that. The other kids got their feet in, but were a bit more wary. We also went to Aganoa beach, where we usually go snorkeling, and let Randy and Janelle use our snorkeling equipment for their first snorkeling experience. John helped them get started and I stayed on the beach with the kids. Fearless Kristen had to be watched closeIy to keep her from diving right in. Spencer, however, (who looks amazingly like Peyton) wanted very little to do with the water, but had a great time in the sand. Rachel would get wet if someone was holding her, but was nervous about the water. It took awhile for Randy and Janelle to get the feel of breathing through the snorkel tube, but after they did, I think they really enjoyed it. I think they were a little nervous about trying this new adventure, but I was proud of them for not giving up and finding some joy in it.<br /><br />Another place we went was a place called Swimming With the Turtles. I had pictures of our first visit there in an earlier blog segment, but this time when we went, there were several people actually in the pool and swimming with the turtles. They had snorkel gear on, which made great sense, and I think I might be talked into trying it that way sometime. They were having a great time, everyone from teenagers to parents. When we met them, it turns out they were mormons from Idaho. They were relatives of the Samoan Temple President, Phillip Hanks, who we’ve known for years and is the brother of our dear friend David Hanks. The father of the swimming family is a doctor, who it turns out is a good friend of one of John’s old medical students, Reed Harris, who is also his stake president. Reed and Kathy were a great addition to our ward in Kirksville and an impressive couple. As usual, no matter where you go in the world and in the church, you keep meeting people you know, or people who know someone you know. After we had visited with them for a bit, Randy and Janelle came over to meet them and asked if they knew either of his brothers who live in their town. It turns out that the doctor’s wife, who was still swimming at the time, is the visiting teaching companion of Randy’s sister-in-law. We all had a good time laughing and visiting about the chance meeting, and they all wanted pictures of us and the Evans to show to their friends that we all know back in Idaho.<br /><br />After we finished our second day of sight-seeing, the Evans family came back to our house for a Mexican dinner. They brought home-made tortillas (yum) and we had all the other fixins, most of which I picked up in Apia on our last trip. It was great to get to know them and spend time with them. It also turns out that they live not too far from where our first house in Orem is, just off the Provo Canyon Road. Hopefully, we’ll be able to connect with them sometime when we get home and see how their kids have grown in that much time. They have another baby boy on the way, so that baby will be about a year old when we get home.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-BxoCVvz00tvPH8G-qjZ9HB6n3JDWOUtNhnSSwcLMOV_hCcrKDocbmsNsXTg1n-opIVC-hZ7WlhutQMV3Lfwuf8sZW8NoVGyaWXIrqNvLharM4zVEtiAbGKwg28cNEu6bAPE5bhv0Lg/s1600/015+wood.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498003258269350242" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-BxoCVvz00tvPH8G-qjZ9HB6n3JDWOUtNhnSSwcLMOV_hCcrKDocbmsNsXTg1n-opIVC-hZ7WlhutQMV3Lfwuf8sZW8NoVGyaWXIrqNvLharM4zVEtiAbGKwg28cNEu6bAPE5bhv0Lg/s400/015+wood.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW-wVuKuc0vrfAFGQHV27qetwXnKLBnRSUiOcQASZQBiW9FupiWWXeUUBhktNGN7Pb2PFZpLqrjrtwiH2PwREnHU6xvgxUmtEtbzHtUWyTOStDx78VkZ7n6tZHqNMfpXxaNUo2uvrrHQ/s1600/052.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498003103880406642" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW-wVuKuc0vrfAFGQHV27qetwXnKLBnRSUiOcQASZQBiW9FupiWWXeUUBhktNGN7Pb2PFZpLqrjrtwiH2PwREnHU6xvgxUmtEtbzHtUWyTOStDx78VkZ7n6tZHqNMfpXxaNUo2uvrrHQ/s400/052.jpg" /></a> These last two pictures are of John sawing away at a board in our makeshift ‘wood shop’ in the living room, and of him standing among the big beautiful plants in his garden. The tall ones in front of him are tomatoes, surrounded by huge vines of squash and cucumbers, plus cabbage and green peppers. We’ve had a lot of cucumbers already and there is one lone tomato showing itself so far and lots of blossoms. Several workers here at the hotel, including the retired owner, have been intrigued with his garden and I think he’s inspired some of them to start their own. He’s shared seeds, starts he’s grown from seeds, and fertilizer with all of them, and also a neighbor who is starting a new garden plot right over the fence from us. Roger, the retired owner, has had a big greenhouse over by his home, where he grew vegetables for the hotel when he was running it. He’s back in the kitchen as chef this week because his son Poi, who runs the hotel now, is off in New Zealand with his wife who is having a baby. They have one beautiful little girl, Adria, and the new baby is to be a girl also. Poi’s mother is native Samoan and Roger is a sandy-haired Englishman. They have very handsome grownup children, 5 boys and one girl. Roger’s wife works in Apia during the week as the Samoan Minister of Health and comes home on weekends. She is a very beautiful and sophisticated Samoan Woman. We love being here on the grounds of the hotel. It’s very secure and beautifully landscaped, and though our house is small, it’s adequate for us right now.<br /><br />Lest you think that we are doing everything but missionary work, I’ll let John finish this off with some more details of what‘s going on with our mission.<br /><br />JOHN – We have stopped doing our children’s English classes so that we can expand our home visits to other villages. It was not something that we really wanted to do, but we have come to realize that it is virtually impossible for us to make contact with all of the inactive church members on this island, so we must obey the mission president’s council and move on. We have begun to visit in villages further up the coast, and in fact, one of the villages is the one where I lived when I served here over 50 years ago. I mentioned the name of the old branch president to some of the people here, but no one remembers back that far, and most actually were not even born back in 1955. Our response is very encouraging in our initial visits up there. We are told that our visits are wanted and, in fact, they have told us that they have been waiting for us to come. We visited one matai who is the chief of his village, and who has a problem with the Word of Wisdom (smoking) and does not come out to church anymore. He accepted our visit very well and wants us to come back to visit after he can talk to the other family members, because he wants us to bring a Family Home Evening program, including songs, games, and a lesson. We are waiting for a phone call to let us know when to do it. We met another matai while we were doing our morning jogging up a different road the other day. The road is unpaved and rough, but absolutely beautiful with all kinds of trees, flowering trees, etc., and on our way down the road he came out, and in the traditional Samoan manner, welcomed us to his house for a rest and “tea”. We accepted the invitation, and went into his home where he had prepared banana pancakes, a pineapple pie, and Samoan cocoa. We had a nice visit with him. He is a member of the same LMS church where I spoke a few months ago, and he remembered meeting me then. He talked to us in both languages so that Karen could understand him.<br /><br />Typically, when you visit a home here there are no doors to knock on and no numbers on the houses. Most streets have no names. Addresses include the name, village, and island, and that is it. There is no postal delivery system. A post office on the island is where mail comes, and the sender calls the recipient to alert him that a letter is being sent. It sometimes takes 3 weeks for mail to get here. There are post office boxes in the post office for people who receive mail regularly.<br /><br />When you visit a home you ask from outside if it is ok or if they are too busy. They will almost always invite you in. You sit on the floor or sometimes they have a chair for you, and the man makes a formal greeting to which you respond with appropriate wording that includes his title (high chief, talking chief, etc.) and then you ask about his family and do some small talk. They you say a word that indicates that you are about to state your business. When you leave you make a short speech, and then he makes a speech of thanks which includes asking for God’s blessing on you and your work, etc. It is very impolite to just say thanks and goodbye. The same protocol holds true in all meetings except for formal church meetings. At the end of a fireside a member of the visiting party gives a high chief type of thanks, and this is followed by the host talking chief’s speech. Much of what they say is proverbial and metaphorical, and often only the matais know the true meaning of some of it.<br /><br />KAREN – Well, I guess he’s done, which means I’d better finish up too. I was determined to get this completed today, Saturday, so that I could send it off to our daughter Kelly, who puts the finishing touches on it before it’s posted. She and her husband, Kevin are just waiting for a phone call to tell them that all the red tape and paper work are completed so that they can make a trip to Ethiopia to pick up their two beautiful new children, four-year-old twins, a boy and a girl. We expect they’ll be leaving sometime in the next couple of weeks, and once they’re back home they’ll have their hands full for a while, so I want this finished and out of her hair before she has to get ready to leave. Please know of our love for you all and thanks so much for your support and especially your emails. We love hearing from you and finding out what’s going on in your lives.<br /><br />With love from John and Karen </div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>John & Karen Kroghhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08097598934218597824noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7660554378340018126.post-76069708029194468852010-06-15T09:17:00.000-07:002010-06-15T11:44:43.674-07:00<span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;">Blog #9 – May 28, 2010<br /><br />Hello from Lalomalava, Savaii, Samoa. As usual, a lot has happened since the last blog posting and as I looked over all the pictures taken this month, I realize how far behind I am again. Our days are more and more filled up with all kinds of activities. We spend a good part of most week-days organizing and going out on visits to inactive families with the local ward mission leader. We really need him along on our first visit, because there are no addresses or street signs (actually there are very few streets) On a typical visit, we walk through a village, take a lonely little bush trail and then climb across a little barricade, meant to keep the family pigs and chickens in the yard, where they run loose. Once we find the right fale (house), more often than not the place is deserted (except for the pigs and chickens and an occasional barking dog). Each new three-or-four-visit trek turns into quite an adventure sometimes. Because we are visiting inactive families, they’re not always happy to see us, but they are always polite and ask us to come in and sit, because that is just the Samoan way.<br /><br />We’re working with three different wards right now and plan to move our efforts into the fourth ward next week. We’re in Apia this week and have an appointment with the Salelologa mission leader as soon as we get home to start calling on inactive families in that ward. We’ll still be making periodic visits back with the families we’ve been working with in the first three wards until we feel that the Ward council in each ward has picked up the ball with home and visiting teaching to these families and the fellowshipping process has taken hold with them. It’s very slow, not to mention discouraging at times, but little bits of success keep us up and moving ahead. Some of the mission leaders are hard to pin down because they are either too busy working, or they just plain forget the appointments.<br /><br />The first mission leader we went with in the McKay lst Ward, Fatu, is a single young man about 25 or so, a returned missionary and very pleasant. He just keeps forgetting about our appointments (John insists he needs a wife). He works locally in a little fale where he and his boss spend their days silk-screening and hand-painting fabrics for lava-lavas (a rectangular wrap that can be a skirt for a woman or man) and women’s puletasis, (a very specifically Samoan style dress with a long tunic blouse over a matching or coordinating lava-lava. When we first started working with Fatu, it was leading up the Mothers’ Day Weekend and they were working almost around the clock to meet the demand for gifts. We stopped at the studio one day to pick him up, but found him and his boss working on the silk-screening process. He had forgotten our appointment and he was unable to get away that day.<br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUQTK2xSziRm27x7ft8uM-WftWRHn2doP_EPlIuH38xoZaE6zA7hfZ16pXPu7Z0-mdlRgIFgnsjgRWdZ_IOsXDN1bCvX1gR-3cFGfQJVVQrZuvM68tg8L131gCS81SXggvTHG3y4qDng/s1600/787.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483037370150723970" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUQTK2xSziRm27x7ft8uM-WftWRHn2doP_EPlIuH38xoZaE6zA7hfZ16pXPu7Z0-mdlRgIFgnsjgRWdZ_IOsXDN1bCvX1gR-3cFGfQJVVQrZuvM68tg8L131gCS81SXggvTHG3y4qDng/s400/787.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmIQoW-a4PIejwzH3aEhOuUD9Mcxnkr7XgT823ath0AmXmxfelMjyoaTaviuMLmGcWVXPehRfnZ5bDf9n5KZU-4le7pt7pk9gPtxa2Ef5isOB6tqyB-srArMuO-lEJz0J9z3y-y9Q2Qw/s1600/788.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483037314790753170" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmIQoW-a4PIejwzH3aEhOuUD9Mcxnkr7XgT823ath0AmXmxfelMjyoaTaviuMLmGcWVXPehRfnZ5bDf9n5KZU-4le7pt7pk9gPtxa2Ef5isOB6tqyB-srArMuO-lEJz0J9z3y-y9Q2Qw/s400/788.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg08kN9ahlENndNuSCkyd9A-PPWcpoDrWA9F-HqdDlXqbX1isajFAyhjfFGOEUWT9GetfWV4prAXvFjTK2hmSxRoF_Yi6s-fF5vE9QDf4tPxzbKTDidytZ9I0rJ2Dd3IdYka1VydqYewA/s1600/792.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483037260529324034" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg08kN9ahlENndNuSCkyd9A-PPWcpoDrWA9F-HqdDlXqbX1isajFAyhjfFGOEUWT9GetfWV4prAXvFjTK2hmSxRoF_Yi6s-fF5vE9QDf4tPxzbKTDidytZ9I0rJ2Dd3IdYka1VydqYewA/s400/792.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"> We stayed and watched them work for awhile and it was fascinating to watch them do each paint layer of the lava-lava. They use stencils made of l/2 inch thick foam rubber under the fabric and then roll the color over the top to make the first layer of the design. After that layer has dried, they use film stencils on the top to lay the second layer of a different design over the first one. They may even do a third layer and then do the final outlining with quick dry squeeze bottles of black, white or gold paint. Sometimes they stencil on words like “Samoa” or “greatest mother”, etc. In the third picture you can see the painted fabrics out drying in the sun waiting for the next layer of design. Sunny days are big work days for them, but they often have to hurriedly gather their work up before a quick rainstorm comes up and makes a mess of their designs. Surprise rainstorms are a common occurrence here. We’ve learned to always have an umbrella close by, because you never know when you’ll need to use one . Our visits are often done on rainy days, because the mission leaders need to work on the good days. The other ones we go with work up on their plantations in the bush.<br /><br />I told you about one of the first families we visited, who were rather cool on our first visit, a little more friendly on the second, and gladly accepted an invitation for us to have a family home evening with them three days later, and then they all showed up at church the Sunday before. We were so thrilled to see them and had a great family night the next night. After we reported our visits to the Ward council, a member of the primary presidency recognized that their 9-year-old son had not been baptized and referred the elders to teach him and he was baptized the following week.<br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVaX3S3RDsKOqmqa7P2gFlgHd8oqy3aLK58r9TYODgAJnGJyFpl5b6oie9EvM7jq8rM7Uj7NsOPAhyphenhyphenCCTDVLu1SSq6_jRQZxdWZV_M0m0m2dEyCqlHc3_oX8wGtfDV1Oi6jA2CqY_YdA/s1600/802.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483037195072315938" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVaX3S3RDsKOqmqa7P2gFlgHd8oqy3aLK58r9TYODgAJnGJyFpl5b6oie9EvM7jq8rM7Uj7NsOPAhyphenhyphenCCTDVLu1SSq6_jRQZxdWZV_M0m0m2dEyCqlHc3_oX8wGtfDV1Oi6jA2CqY_YdA/s400/802.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"> This picture was taken right after the baptism. There are two older children, a girl about 14, and a boy 12 who has not received the priesthood yet. Neither of them came to the baptism or the confirmation sacrament meeting the next day, so there’s some more work to be done by the young men and young women leaders to initiate some fellowshipping there. Hopefully we can encourage that and help the whole family to become more interested in church activity. We are really excited about this family’s interest in coming back to church and hope that it will continue to progress in a positive way. (As I read over this in the process of getting back to work on it, I realized that there is more progress with this family. We had made an appointment for another FHE with them. We haven’t been to church in that ward for a couple of weeks. We stopped over at the Bishop’s house before the FHE to see if there had been any developments in getting the 12-yr-old boy prepared to receive the priesthood and also find out if the 14-yr-old daughter had come to church with them. Apparently the two older kids hadn’t been to church with the family yet, but the Bishop informed us that Manono, the father, would have his name presented in Stake conference this Sunday to be ordained an elder. We are so happy about that. We’ve decided to let that ordinance be taken care of for the Father and the next logical step would be for him to ordain his son. When we went to the FHE that night, we took my little roll-up piano to have some songs and let the kids play it, and it turns out that the teenage daughter had started taking a piano class at school, but had to give it up because of scheduling problems. She really enjoyed playing with my little piano and I asked her if she’d like me to give her some lessons. I was sent along on our mission with a simple piano course to teach, so I’ll use that and we’re scheduled for every Tuesday afternoon after school. It just so happens that mutual is held on Tuesdays and I thought of possibly taking her over to the church after a few weeks to try the big piano, and maybe encourage her to stay for mutual after the lesson. She lives quite a distance from the church and I don’t think at this point she’d want to make that walk, but if I can get her there, maybe I can arrange for someone else to bring her home, or I’ll just hang around or come back and take her myself. That’s all just speculation for now, but I feel that music is maybe going to be the avenue to get her back to church with her family.)<br /><br />Another family we visited in a different ward have also made an effort to come to church. The old father in the family was once a Patriarch in the church, but had some problems within his village where some charges were made against him. We heard there was a court action, though we’re not sure whether if was a civil court or church court. We’ve visited several times with his daughter and invalid wife and have been well received and asked to have the home and visiting teachers come to help their family, because they haven’t seen them for awhile. I guess they’ve all been a little embarrassed to come to church, because of the father’s problem. We’ve not visited with the father much at all, although we did meet him at the mother’s 71st birthday party. (we were surprised to learn that she was actually my same age, because she was so feeble and appeared to be almost 90.) She’d been in the hospital and the local Bishop and a counselor had been asked to administer to her. She was home again and we and the Bishopric and their wives were invited to the party. It was a very cordial affair, with lots of food as usual, a large birthday cake and candles, and a happy birthday song sung to the mother. (everyone there, including us, took home huge plates of cake, which is pretty much local custom) The old mother is stone deaf, and can hardly see because of cataracts, but seemed to know what was going on. The father was there and seemed to be in good spirits, but it’s been hard to find him at home for our visits. Dad has tried a couple of times to just go visit him alone, but hasn’t had any luck yet. The rest of the family showed up at church on Mothers’ Day, including the mother in a wheel chair, and other members of the family have come a couple of times since then, but no sign of the father. We have more work to do there, but we’re happy to see the other members of the family coming around.<br /><br />Several other families we’ve met say that they still have a testimony of the church, but are held back from going because of non-member parents or local matais (village chiefs). Many of those members have indicated that they will return to activity after that person has died. That may just be a way to persuade us to leave them alone, but they do seem sincere for the most part. We’ve taken them copies of the Liahona and conference report just to keep them a little in touch with the Church. We’ve been quite welcome in most of those places, and will probably keep visiting them on occasion. I wish I had better language skills to communicate with those folks, but am able to work through a translator, either Dad or the local mission leader, and that helps me feel a little closer to them. Some also speak pretty good English, which helps me be involved a lot more. I still feel a little uncomfortable trying to share my testimony to them in Samoan, which I am able to do, but I worry that my mind is focusing so much on making sure I use the right words, that I may not convey the spirit of it. I am able to say some phrases to them in Samoan, but have difficulty understanding or hearing them when they speak to me. Of course, John is always there to save me. If I need to know what someone is saying, I just give him a little poke and he usually clarifies their remarks for me. I hope I can someday be good enough to get by on my own.<br /><br />We have had some other really fun experiences on our p-days over the last month. About three weeks ago we took a day, along with Elder and Sister Checketts, to drive all the way around the island and see some sights that we hadn’t seen before. We started off about 8:00 a.m. and didn’t get home until after dark, about 7:00 p.m. We packed a lot of snack foods and drinks and pretty much nibbled and sipped our way around the island, without having to take time out to stop and wait to order and be served at a restaurant, always quite time consuming in Samoa. It was a beautiful day and I don’t think we got rained on once, which is very unusual.<br /><br />Our first stop was at the Lava fields up north where there are miles and miles of black lava rock that had spilled from a volcanic explosion back in about 1920 and just cut a swath of destruction on it’s way to the sea. Whole villages were wiped out and all vegetation in it’s path. There are a few places where the lava may have turned a corner and went around some areas where there are still beautiful lush trees, shrubs and grass. Over much of the other lava beds little bits of green and a few trees have found their way to the light up through the cracks in the lava. The most interesting place we saw was where the lava had oozed around a hill, after having flowed a long way from the eruption, and as it started to cool down and become more viscous, it came up behind a big church filled with people. They were able to escape through the front doors and make it to some high ground to safety, but the burning lava broke through the big gothic windows at the rear and filled up several feet inside the building before the flow was slowed and stopped inside and alongside the church.<br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0OoTyrHoCbuC86QIg9Q7F96fjIg8AKglD5gyURY751jr0vImepjkv6JMYVgrkQHUrlbm6xlAtdb-gt34EcY3vUDE7FGvw-Qf1TVVkg57nZNp6139MY6gGYU3zCd6H7S1JjXNwEJAfog/s1600/814.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483037125390424226" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0OoTyrHoCbuC86QIg9Q7F96fjIg8AKglD5gyURY751jr0vImepjkv6JMYVgrkQHUrlbm6xlAtdb-gt34EcY3vUDE7FGvw-Qf1TVVkg57nZNp6139MY6gGYU3zCd6H7S1JjXNwEJAfog/s400/814.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"> The first picture shows the side of the church and the lava stopping along the side.<br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHFHWLIs9SFbYyTNxEzzfE8-LwKp1oQ173KalppdTqxqEVTntbNce_EBfqJ7QKuVQvvdk2XGycKQ4RATFONtQwHN4TDuqlTp_Ck3VJTzt1VKenAjRkDXCoaOPh2pFjlDxXFsPB1hcQYA/s1600/815.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483037061755243506" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHFHWLIs9SFbYyTNxEzzfE8-LwKp1oQ173KalppdTqxqEVTntbNce_EBfqJ7QKuVQvvdk2XGycKQ4RATFONtQwHN4TDuqlTp_Ck3VJTzt1VKenAjRkDXCoaOPh2pFjlDxXFsPB1hcQYA/s400/815.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOQdkO936gIrQV0kuUmFAPbPaFMKz1yxxSPCQsfT2-aurZ12vTCLAMBHQYulQis8d1ir2bOcrY3kLeVH9oWk0wKXtsikLka5OBvoX4-YukivMzL0UYKyU4_liXc6G2wfWWPm43HicKVQ/s1600/818.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483036998325974786" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOQdkO936gIrQV0kuUmFAPbPaFMKz1yxxSPCQsfT2-aurZ12vTCLAMBHQYulQis8d1ir2bOcrY3kLeVH9oWk0wKXtsikLka5OBvoX4-YukivMzL0UYKyU4_liXc6G2wfWWPm43HicKVQ/s400/818.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"> The next pictures show how the inside of the church was filled with lava, John is standing in the largest rear window where the lava broke through, and then a close-up of that window where the burning lava oozed it’s way into the church. It was so eerie to see where the lava had come in, had cooled and hardened without pouring out the front church doors. The church was completely destroyed by fire, except for the upright stone walls. It was an amazing story and so dramatically portrayed. The local village women’s committee use this site as a fund raiser and they are the guides as well as the caretakers. It was beautifully kept up. They charge a fee of 5 Samoan tala per person, which is about $2.10 American, the same price that is charged at most of the historical and natural sites on the island, a real bargain compared to most tourist sites around the world.<br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpkNNk_sG_EjyRg7LAJ7r3eW8cCtew-K1DnVRAGuqeP8iJ8sXahpegAk04c-MPIztWDudg7m4LglgHdFRnQAILFYfIBxSEPmgJ-U2axp0PilkKUTHxbm_ar7Zv7TBASud2foR07V1loA/s1600/834.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483036933471942642" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpkNNk_sG_EjyRg7LAJ7r3eW8cCtew-K1DnVRAGuqeP8iJ8sXahpegAk04c-MPIztWDudg7m4LglgHdFRnQAILFYfIBxSEPmgJ-U2axp0PilkKUTHxbm_ar7Zv7TBASud2foR07V1loA/s400/834.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"> The next place we stopped was at a beautiful enclosed salt-water lagoon where there were several large sea turtles swimming around. The place is called “swimming with the turtles”. I think most people just walk around the pools and watch them being fed, but for the same price, 5 tala per person, you can go into one of the little houses around the lagoon, change into bathing suits and swim with the turtles. There was no one swimming while we were there, and we didn’t either, but we’re not sure that we might not go back and try it some time. The turtles are large, maybe 3 ft long and their shells are beautifully colored.<br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3_cGmCyDD3omk9y0ARwfck3owlIrLwowZNovFcZxY_FneVDEnjEBPDe7yV6f9eXAk_tjZNpxjM5yp293ic29pue4PE7FtEALJX593UqhbXp2fyufqdZ0Aby1lIaFT1XfKjgl-9dhx8Q/s1600/860.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483036875219758642" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3_cGmCyDD3omk9y0ARwfck3owlIrLwowZNovFcZxY_FneVDEnjEBPDe7yV6f9eXAk_tjZNpxjM5yp293ic29pue4PE7FtEALJX593UqhbXp2fyufqdZ0Aby1lIaFT1XfKjgl-9dhx8Q/s400/860.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9dRVKtoRlFZ7bCl_vr9galJktl55fxqnLO-U0caKe1yD35GhWRxqMvDWEHdMCa26Zu5o2xKl3baBkynkPqXF-yhsyQBT5bL2967-obWTiJUxncTS_CDOFz6Z38SGBEuA4-B1oUt5e7g/s1600/863.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483036784422993010" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9dRVKtoRlFZ7bCl_vr9galJktl55fxqnLO-U0caKe1yD35GhWRxqMvDWEHdMCa26Zu5o2xKl3baBkynkPqXF-yhsyQBT5bL2967-obWTiJUxncTS_CDOFz6Z38SGBEuA4-B1oUt5e7g/s400/863.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"> While John was reaching over and helping to feed the turtles, his cell phone dropped into the water and he had to go in knee-deep with the turtles in order to retrieve it. Even though it was only in the water about 2 minutes and we opened it up and let it dry for a couple of days, we ended up having to buy a new phone. The dried-out battery and sim card worked just fine, but the phone itself was gone.<br /><br />Another interesting site, pretty much off-the-beaten-path but indicated on our tourist map, was called the Dwarf Cave. We assumed it was just some little tiny cave that some legendary dwarves had supposedly occupied at some time. The site is way back in the bush and after you pay your 5 tala per person, a young villager climbs in your car and guides you to and then down into the cave. It turned out to be a pretty good sized cave that dropped pretty steeply down in the earth, where real-life dwarf families had lived for several years, having been driven from their villages because of superstition. They made a refuge for themselves in this cave and the surrounding bush, and even though we didn’t have the right shoes on to climb all the way down, there are little tables and chairs and beds at the bottom that the dwarves used while they lived down there. This was back in about the 1940’s and the other villagers pretty much left them alone during the war years, but began to make their way back to their refuge to rob them and persecute them after the war was over. One day the dwarves just up and abandoned the place and were never seen or heard of again.<br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoa02_viJguulEXn-0cW3EOyBjRaGemCtTsNTZsMEak8KCnmHj9s_FMYRMvVuuV5-m19ZDI9wFb4J-5o8KEai99Y3R6aJ6QTwMidriNIq-fRGp9fLM0LwkRK7C30IhlsCQiUsvSc3J-A/s1600/881.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483036707478401986" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoa02_viJguulEXn-0cW3EOyBjRaGemCtTsNTZsMEak8KCnmHj9s_FMYRMvVuuV5-m19ZDI9wFb4J-5o8KEai99Y3R6aJ6QTwMidriNIq-fRGp9fLM0LwkRK7C30IhlsCQiUsvSc3J-A/s400/881.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSW1svrcejzEj3UE9yd2yCHTQS9XHolwkAS5zvPjgyi3oWNbm2P5M2AswxihqFHDnckKcyWpwiLPDUYSLf28t3uYTIG8uhUPiEPAdabOtUkAm7ohjaQbuc0pENLl32KVnL0ROsnOSosw/s1600/884.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483036637559924722" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSW1svrcejzEj3UE9yd2yCHTQS9XHolwkAS5zvPjgyi3oWNbm2P5M2AswxihqFHDnckKcyWpwiLPDUYSLf28t3uYTIG8uhUPiEPAdabOtUkAm7ohjaQbuc0pENLl32KVnL0ROsnOSosw/s400/884.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"> The first young guide took John and Elder Checketts down with a flashlight, but another young man came later and lit a torch to help out. I personally do not do caves if I can help it and will only go in as far as I can still see light from the outside. I get very claustrophobic and sister Checketts felt pretty much the same, so we stayed back by the entrance, until the guys got tired of hiking in their flip-flops and decided to turn back before making it to the bottom. We don’t know how much of the story is true, but it was interesting and unusual to hear about and see. If any of the family ever come to visit, we’ll suggest going there and bringing the right kind of shoes.<br /><br />After we came out of the cave, the guides asked if we were thirsty and would like a niu to drink. A niu is a young green coconut that you cut open and drink the juice out of it. We said we’d like some, so the youngest guide shinnied up the coconut palm and dropped several down to his companion.<br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU5-kgjk1v649ub0IZMR3o7qSd5-YNu_kjhOG69Vysfk6MY2C4ERI0OSjLlov0xnYzEJrB8GpwhXGXhynkCOU8nHTEezctMTof4sVgHqOhSiRkcEEnxovd-ULxlmm1r9OXH1sOg_d90Q/s1600/896.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483036578407491970" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU5-kgjk1v649ub0IZMR3o7qSd5-YNu_kjhOG69Vysfk6MY2C4ERI0OSjLlov0xnYzEJrB8GpwhXGXhynkCOU8nHTEezctMTof4sVgHqOhSiRkcEEnxovd-ULxlmm1r9OXH1sOg_d90Q/s400/896.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixSnCXsWqwKxAXIYgWIxb7NRVT6l7uTqKOFyIQU_sR822qflNDzD6R79hRCOT9P1rZv2aM6MKLk_5KeMt3VUFwYznmMWnzWhN9iLKNGHoG9u3iBesEvJZto_uCrvMQMAi0Gdl1K1Ji6g/s1600/903.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483036503129240386" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixSnCXsWqwKxAXIYgWIxb7NRVT6l7uTqKOFyIQU_sR822qflNDzD6R79hRCOT9P1rZv2aM6MKLk_5KeMt3VUFwYznmMWnzWhN9iLKNGHoG9u3iBesEvJZto_uCrvMQMAi0Gdl1K1Ji6g/s400/903.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"> They then proceeded to rip the husks off with a sharpened stake conveniently placed right there in the ground, and then cut the hard shells open with their machetes and passed them around for all of us to have a drink. The juice looks like clear water has a very mild coconut flavor and there’s 1 to 2 cups of fluid in each niu. John buys them quite often at home from village boys and sticks them in the fridge for a day or so for a cool drink later. Quite often they will be served cold at fancy feasts, sitting on a mug or cup with a straw sticking out of a hole in the top. The guide’s niu ritual and subsequent posing for pictures added a nice bit of local color to an already very interesting day.<br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYhg1VuZaDGgaCjonn63zymDDOhu8joxPs7Hg-1xKtpxb6uUAwOD_iVcN3j1vOuumwobUdfIi6V0R8nM-pHs2bTYcqXZtvZ3rHNF3Vi-y5ViPF0PWeH39SnkaakWTNBMv8tgLP-X9zmA/s1600/911.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483036444725585442" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYhg1VuZaDGgaCjonn63zymDDOhu8joxPs7Hg-1xKtpxb6uUAwOD_iVcN3j1vOuumwobUdfIi6V0R8nM-pHs2bTYcqXZtvZ3rHNF3Vi-y5ViPF0PWeH39SnkaakWTNBMv8tgLP-X9zmA/s400/911.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"> The next stop on our trek around the island was at a very large pool, alongside the ocean, that is fed by a natural fresh-water spring. We see those all over the islands. Most villages have captured the spring water and built some very small and some quite substantial pools out of lava rock, where they do their bathing, clothes washing, swimming, etc. As the tide comes in, it spills into the pool, making it more salty, but then the tide goes out again, the pool is emptied and cleaned out and the clean spring water seeps back for the next round of baths, laundry, and children frolicking and swimming. These pools are quite the village gathering places, and you can quite often see a bunch of little boys horsing around in them with, or without, their clothes on, I expect after their mothers have encouraged them to go down and wash their bodies and their clothes all in one big splash. The pool in this picture was huge and there were a lot of people using it that day. As more and more families have installed little toilet and shower houses by their fales, I expect less and less real bathing is done there, but we often see mothers and children, and other single adult people headed for a pool, with towels in hand for either a swim or bath, or carrying a bucket of laundry and a box of soap.<br /><br />Our last big stop of the day was at a government-preserved rain forest, where for 5 tala per person (surprise, surprise) you can hike back into the darkened, canopied, heavily foliaged rain forest to a huge banyon tree, where there are several flights of very steep steps (we counted 95 of them on the way back down) leading up to the observation platform in the top branches of the enormous tree, where you can see for miles out over the top of the rain forest.<br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLuiAMzZcdO6jh2whSbFhyLqD_U_VXcTaaeyWjV_0yaG6ZhwdkWeJVZvDSlX8pMI41Wh9OapswP1ytobaOPcEAk-huq_jVTvCN3Fy8nIKxyKNSYAH5w9xNJNXL7JFaR7FLqL5jtGP4VA/s1600/919.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483036385398475346" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLuiAMzZcdO6jh2whSbFhyLqD_U_VXcTaaeyWjV_0yaG6ZhwdkWeJVZvDSlX8pMI41Wh9OapswP1ytobaOPcEAk-huq_jVTvCN3Fy8nIKxyKNSYAH5w9xNJNXL7JFaR7FLqL5jtGP4VA/s400/919.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzdiiOE-cthp_CeiwTm5yoNXg87qs8T_g7t8J2qQq9PfwgDqYC5F-JVvzKa_26QOaijBcYM6R9pkXqkwA3wkfWn3PyM6kEcJST6TQIMy00Q6gND-oavcW88ia9CwinnQw62OgCw3Ov3Q/s1600/924.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483036308727100738" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzdiiOE-cthp_CeiwTm5yoNXg87qs8T_g7t8J2qQq9PfwgDqYC5F-JVvzKa_26QOaijBcYM6R9pkXqkwA3wkfWn3PyM6kEcJST6TQIMy00Q6gND-oavcW88ia9CwinnQw62OgCw3Ov3Q/s400/924.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"> The platform is probably about 8 stories off the ground (we also measured the 10 to 11 inch stair risers and multiplied by 95 to get that estimate), and when you stand at the top, you cannot see the ground at all because of the dense forest below you. It was a very impressive sight and a very strenuous climb, but well worth the trouble. We made a couple more quick stops where we had missed some things on our first trip up the other direction about a month before, and then made our way back to our place and decided that we had earned dinner out. So we went on over to the Savaiin Hotel restaurant where we live and had a very leisurely dinner and visit, the perfect end to a long perfect day.<br /><br />Moving on to other subjects, I don’t remember if we’ve told you about meeting, and becoming close friends with, the local LMS minister who leads a very large church and congregation not far from our home. Reverend Esera and his wife Tamara are just lovely people and we spend quite a bit of time with them, discussing our families, sharing pictures, and talking a lot about our religious beliefs. We are really quite compatible in all those respects. They are both native Samoans, very well educated and both speak fluent English, although John and Esera often converse at length in Samoan. John loves to practice his Samoan and Tamara loves to practice her English, so it’s perfect for all. Recently they invited us to attend a very unusual wedding ceremony and celebration at their church. A native German couple had hunted on the internet for someplace exotic in the world to take their elderly parents on a trip to celebrate their 50th wedding anniversary and renew their wedding vows in a church, which they had not been able to do when they were first married. They found Reverend Esera’s church on the internet, and contracted with him to have a wedding ceremony in his church, and then a typical Samoan wedding fia fia (party or celebration) in a nearby large hotel fale. The German family suggested they invite 100 of their congregation and friends as guests and so we were invited as guests to the wedding and fia fia. I’m guessing that since the Germans (4 of them) were to be the only palagis (white people) there, that it might be nice to see two more white faces in the crowd.<br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwr9HOxWx6tjdfU-EWTE1Zre6W-jgR7kCyFvxR1jhimX4m6U7eJXf1bQnGY9GvpWgqhWsRuwbWnzC5HIq_lrs-w75MJobb8Vt5YerYwhiMeckzGmIGjCB_8MXbsjTb4jKadeBTVBft8Q/s1600/938.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483036231051503826" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwr9HOxWx6tjdfU-EWTE1Zre6W-jgR7kCyFvxR1jhimX4m6U7eJXf1bQnGY9GvpWgqhWsRuwbWnzC5HIq_lrs-w75MJobb8Vt5YerYwhiMeckzGmIGjCB_8MXbsjTb4jKadeBTVBft8Q/s400/938.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"> The wedding ceremony was at 10:00 am in the morning at the beautiful big LMS cathedral in Sapapalii, a village just about a mile up the road from our house. The service was spoken in both Samoan and English. The old couple could speak nothing but German, but their daughter and son-in-law translated the English for them. It was a very elegant ceremony, with two choirs performing and much pomp and circumstance. After about a one hour service, the whole party and congregation moved down the road about ½ mile to the hotel for the fia fia, and what a party it was. The Samoans really know how to celebrate.<br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSF-rDf1FtYR396HRrdLvuwLSHcTIN4Lui9hz3Nhf1PIoMVW2Xi_G10IYDQrEHN4ccrR465BIwEOqJPMJGmTgLj1F2cI6mrM6M6CnpA_SvdLtnyUeIdYfHH4g3WDmD6zWhBmzkk7hAiA/s1600/962.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483036144637912994" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSF-rDf1FtYR396HRrdLvuwLSHcTIN4Lui9hz3Nhf1PIoMVW2Xi_G10IYDQrEHN4ccrR465BIwEOqJPMJGmTgLj1F2cI6mrM6M6CnpA_SvdLtnyUeIdYfHH4g3WDmD6zWhBmzkk7hAiA/s400/962.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN8oU3u0jpfejB-hcbxaN63VKb8dv-_bAG49r_Ap2_2sQdo3ADJIOrcb5UO3LAx3zkNF1Suai7TjLidOvfULiZaQ6W5pvD57fs9mcptPp_RsiG5fclGSdlg-KFJ4UeoDAPosxe_JTpxg/s1600/964.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483036055657117138" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN8oU3u0jpfejB-hcbxaN63VKb8dv-_bAG49r_Ap2_2sQdo3ADJIOrcb5UO3LAx3zkNF1Suai7TjLidOvfULiZaQ6W5pvD57fs9mcptPp_RsiG5fclGSdlg-KFJ4UeoDAPosxe_JTpxg/s400/964.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"> The elderly German guests of honor sat at the head table, along with their daughter and her husband, with Rev. Esera and Tamara. We were just around the corner of the head table and treated as honored guests along with the wedding party. They had a lovely wedding cake and a cake cutting ceremony and then a fabulous feast with every kind of Samoan and European food imaginable. Esera asked Dad to pronounce the blessing on the feast and John did so in typical lengthy and eloquent Samoan. After the feast, the hotel employees performed several Samoan production numbers and then the band played for everyone else to come and dance, Samoan style, of course, sort of a simplified version of the Hawaiin hula, but more robust.<br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMwCgiyQHg52icKwYjmGeu2I_XQoiFPlRn5L43xsFc9JYgfffKg_0Vg8piIGOhc4ziIxZ6pbqjxKgI6q2m2qoCMcBY4TRKgLgsctXnbS07IVZO_E0dQhJqFUKwGm9Gh2_DPEHRh3tl2Q/s1600/968.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483035972386050210" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMwCgiyQHg52icKwYjmGeu2I_XQoiFPlRn5L43xsFc9JYgfffKg_0Vg8piIGOhc4ziIxZ6pbqjxKgI6q2m2qoCMcBY4TRKgLgsctXnbS07IVZO_E0dQhJqFUKwGm9Gh2_DPEHRh3tl2Q/s400/968.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNK1g62gSv5OXNDeJdjNjG2Iv7LwQaVxTGpKzMNOkNPItVqGQSUSyOPRAzRFopjufCepytxGzu4h1HYq9Tt4Smbyylyyvq6xZIrrHRrB__yuHpNApW1hO4ld6VSCFmFrpMCi_umfDQww/s1600/971.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483035884260671058" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNK1g62gSv5OXNDeJdjNjG2Iv7LwQaVxTGpKzMNOkNPItVqGQSUSyOPRAzRFopjufCepytxGzu4h1HYq9Tt4Smbyylyyvq6xZIrrHRrB__yuHpNApW1hO4ld6VSCFmFrpMCi_umfDQww/s400/971.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"> The old German couple were great sports and joined in the dancing fun, along with their daughter, while the son-in-law took pictures. I even got this picture of a decorated John dancing up a storm, well a slow storm, but dancing nonetheless. The wedding and party must have lasted about three hours and ended up with the usual long, eloquent thank-yous and speeches from the local matais and talking chief, the Rev. Esera and the German Son-in-law. We were all sent home with huge pieces of the wedding cake, as well as Styrofoam boxes loaded with wonderful leftovers from the feast table. Toward the end, Tamara quietly asked Dad to drive her home quickly so she could change and pack their luggage while Esera stayed and finished up his duties as host. They had been at an LMS conference over on Upolo all week, came across that morning on the 6:00 a.m. ferry, oversaw the wedding and fia fia and then had to be back on the 2:00 p.m. ferry going over to Upolo for a big conference reunion of all their old divinity school classmates. They’d had to leave their car in Upolo, so they asked us to take them to the ferry. After John dropped off Tamara, then came back for me and Esera, we dropped him at home long enough to quickly change his clothes and raced them back to the wharf to be on the ferry by 2:00. They made it with minutes to spare, but totally worn out. Hopefully they were able to relax on the ferry ride before going back for a long night of celebrating at their reunion. I’m sure they went to the trouble of leaving the conference for the wedding and party, and then rushing back to the conference, because the German family had paid a huge bundle of money to the church for the wedding and celebration. Just as we left the party, Esera gave John an envelope with 100 tala in it for his measly part in the celebration. John explained that he certainly couldn’t accept the money for just being there and saying the blessing, but Esera told him he wasn’t to be so proud and offend the German family for their gift. What a pickle for John. He didn’t know what to do but keep it. We ended up giving some of it to a young friend who needed some help and used the rest of it for a gift at the next wedding we were invited to, two days later. That’s another big long story all by itself.<br /><br />After we dropped Esera and Tamara at the Ferry, we had to hurry back home to prepare for our 5:00 English class at the McKay Ward. When we finished about 6:30, we rushed back home again long enough to quickly eat some of the wedding feast leftovers and then had to go back the other direction for another little English class we teach to one of our inactive families. Sasa’e, the single mother of four children from about age 7 to 19, joined the church, along with her brother and his wife, about a year ago, against the adamant wishes of their old father. The old grandfather absolutely forbid their children, his grandchildren, to be baptized and insisted they all attend the local village church instead. Samoans have a great fear and respect for their elders, and we see what power they have over their children and village members. The brother and his wife live over on Upolo and are quite active in the church over there, even though their children cannot be baptized until the old grandpa is gone. Sasa’e, who lives with her parents and takes care of them, and I’m guessing is somewhat financially dependent on them, feels that she must obey her father until he is “finished” (dead), so she must attend his church and her children cannot be baptized, even though they want to. The elders who have kept visiting her since her baptism, asked us to continue fellowshipping her, because she is now an inactive member and that is our job. We had some really nice visits and family nights with her and her family. When she heard we were teaching English classes at the church, she felt really bad because she really wants her children to have more English training, but they are not allowed to go to the church. So we offered to come every week, after our other class and work with her family, along with, it turns out, almost ten other neighbor children. It’s very tiring after a long day, but we’re really building up a good relationship with her and the non-member neighbors and we are her only connection to the church until she’s in a position to be free from her father’s demands. Her mother is actually very supportive of her desires, but won’t go against his wishes. Wow, what a complicated job we have here. We just love Sasa’e and her family and wish we could do more to help her. We’d really like for John to meet her old father personally and just make friends, and maybe he’ll be able to soften his heart a little. Sasa’e is a little nervous about this, but is thinking about a painless way to may it happen. We’re praying for her.<br /><br />JOHN – As I sit here watching the geckos eat the insects off our screen windows I am reminded of the disparities between the life here and that which we are accustomed to in America. Fortunately, there is freedom in both spheres. People are free here, like in America, to attend whatever church they want to. That, however, is a freedom that may be in jeopardy here. The Samoan constitution currently states that religious freedom is a right available to all Samoans, but there are some serious discussions going on in the government that might cause a change in the constitution. It is being debated as to whether or not the people should continue to make their own choices as to what religion they want to affiliate with, and the alternative to this freedom would be to have the matais of each village be the ones who decide what churches can exist in their villages. That would mean that a matai could say that the LDS church could no longer operate in his village. There are some villages now that won’t allow our missionaries to come in and teach, even though it is technically against the law to prohibit us. A member of the committee investigating the law, who is also a member of our church related the story to our mission president recently of a dispute that was quite heated in their chambers recently in which a Methodist minister, who is also a member of committee, said “we are sick and tired of you Mormons taking away members of our congregations”, to which our fellow church member replied, “thank you, now we know what this is really all about, don’t we?” Over the past year we have had many entire families convert to our church, and the other ministers have obviously felt it in the place where it hurts the most – the pocketbook. Our unpaid ministry is one of the reasons our church grows so fast throughout the world – contributions (especially tithing) go to build up the church and not the wealth of our leaders. It really is upsetting to other church leaders when they realize that our leaders are also carpenters, bankers, teachers, etc, etc in addition to being church leaders when these ministers are supported completely (food, housing, cars, etc.) by their congregations. The animosity they feel comes to the surface at times as it has now here in Samoa as they try to change the country’s constitution to satisfy their personal quest for wealth. I guess this is not new though, since it has always been the so-called religious leaders who have opposed the truth. It was the Pharisees in Christ’s day who were worried that He would remove them from their accustomed status of wealth and power, and the pattern continues even today.<br /><br />KAREN – I mentioned earlier about another wedding fiafia we were invited to. The Bishop of the McKay 2nd ward is part of a very large local family and his youngest sister got married in the Samoan Temple the day before and then they all came over to Savaii for the celebration. Our invitation said 11:00 a.m. on Saturday, and that’s when you really want to show up if you don’t want to miss anything. All of the guests were seated at banquet tables in the large family outdoor fale, as well as a big tent set up behind. I realized after being there for only a few minutes that I had forgotten my camera and it was too late to go back for it. The fale was all decorated with apple green balloons, white and green streamers and swags clear across the ceiling and under the outside overhang all the way around the fale. All of the tables had several plates filled with snacks, like chips, cookies, crackers, nuts, etc., and also plates full of cut-up fruit, that we all spent the first hour or so nibbling at while we visited, and watched the program. There was another tent set up out in front, housing a good-sized band who played and sang through most of the 3 or so hours of the fiafia, except when there were speeches and special musical numbers. At about 11:30 the wedding party drove up in a couple of limousines and vans and proceeded to line up outside for what they call “the walk”, where the bridesmaids, all dressed in lovely formal green satin dresses, walk in on the arms of the groomsmen, dressed in black pants, white shirts and green satin ties. They enter the fale one couple at a time (I think there were 5 or 6), step to music toward the center of the floor, are introduced to the throng of guests and then make their way to the head table, while the next couples are introduced. Then comes the young ring bearer (sp?) and the flower girl spreading petals along the way as the Bride (in a flowing white satin and tulle gown and veil, complete with train) and Groom (in a black tux) are the last to march forward, be introduced and follow their attendants to the head table. It was all very formal and beautifully choreographed. It reminded me a little of Grantsville’s Prominade. Dad politely and patiently watched and I loved it, except that I wanted so badly to be taking pictures.<br /><br />The program consisted of several dance groups, made up of young adult and teenage family members and another group of younger girls, including the Jr. bridesmaids and flower girl, who danced a traditional Samoan Siva (sort of like the hula, but I think it’s prettier). There were several singers who performed, most of them members of the family and all very good. Many songs were very recognizable old American love songs sung in English. The final number on the program was the bride coming out and doing a very graceful kind of Siva/Hula to the Hawaiin Wedding Song, and maneuvering beautifully around her abundant train. She was kind of heavy set, like the majority of Samoan women, but she was beautiful and so very graceful. Then the dance floor was turned over to traditional couples, the bride and the Stake President, the Groom and his mother, bridesmaids and groomsmen, etc. Most of these first dances were done in a typical step-touch kind of a waltz. After the formal dances were done, then the Samoan music and dancing started and went on for a long time. Finally, the feast was announced, which surprised me at first, because I remember thinking that the snacks and fruits on the tables were the refreshments. But then I realized that a true Samoan wedding celebration would not be complete without too much food. Instead of the usual buffet, the young dancers acting as servers, brought each person a huge covered plate of food, a large aluminum foil tray, with clear plastic cover. Each tray was the size of a large pizza and loaded with lots of wonderful, and exotic, food. Each tray had a whole lobster, along with chicken, pork, fried fish, fancy meatballs, vegetables, potato and other salads, etc.,etc.etc. I think it was toward the end of the dancing that the wedding cake (or cakes I should say) was cut. The cake/cakes were beautifully stacked on several different tiers and platforms, with decorative glass miniature steps leading from one to the other. There was one very large cake that was cut by the bride and groom and then I think I counted 18 other cakes of various shapes and sizes, all decorated differently, but with duplicate brides and grooms on the tops. I assumed they’d just be cutting them all up for the guests, but they started giving different whole cakes to different special guests, like stake presidents, bishops, grandparents, etc. to take home with them. We were even given half a cake to take home, our only claim to fame being that we were probably the oldest people there.<br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoBSD2lmFgsEjGTK1Dd7ORWbOlvk6mrN5TOnLqLF9QSK4cInd2xDeBNChiQ93C86xfs6nFAjY2-OpVQYj6vRy3Ey4J56hbxv7Ym32ICjKBMQl2Mtc5HGuUhJJyCHyO1RiutMVODO-7_g/s1600/974.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483035823417911170" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoBSD2lmFgsEjGTK1Dd7ORWbOlvk6mrN5TOnLqLF9QSK4cInd2xDeBNChiQ93C86xfs6nFAjY2-OpVQYj6vRy3Ey4J56hbxv7Ym32ICjKBMQl2Mtc5HGuUhJJyCHyO1RiutMVODO-7_g/s400/974.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"> We were already so full of snacks and drinks and small pieces of wedding cake, that we hardly touched our trays of food and were able to bring them home, where I was finally able to take a picture of something. Once they were photographed, we split them all up onto smaller plates and ended up with about 5 different meals for two, most of which we froze for later. A funny thing happened when they passed around the trays of small wedding cake slices. John and I each took one and proceeded to gobble them down immediately, not realizing until a few minutes later that we were supposed to keep them and then take the first bite along with everyone else in the place, as a tribute of sorts to the bridal couple. Several people asked us right before the tribute “didn’t you get any cake?” We sheepishly admitted that we had eaten ours, which precipitated a huge laugh and the delivery of another couple of small pieces of cake. What a fun, fun day it was. We knew so many of the people there and were privileged to sit at one of the head tables with the Stake Presidency, Bishops and their wives. It seems that no matter where we go, we are given a great deal of respect, where they refer to us as their “spiritual parents”. I think it’s mostly that we are white and old. I realized later that we were absolutely the only Palagis there in a crowd of 300 or so. It happens so often that we don’t really think about it much any more.<br /><br />Thanks so much for putting up with my detailed description of this wedding fiafia. I want so much to remember it, and have only that one picture of the food trays to remind me of it. I sure hope we get to go to another big LDS wedding celebration before we go home, and maybe I can get pictures next time.<br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwE0xfcFNU_k5qixwzOQQXkQcraTcNFj2hhNhd2zOLv45WVQV8n5xpoTHGU2pkcyVmI9RB_fo0wFMeeU6UFrb5d1704fjOyuQl9li8NolonYiKZqy0_FZg0W20CTIw69seGE-BJo-70g/s1600/986.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483035748615278146" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwE0xfcFNU_k5qixwzOQQXkQcraTcNFj2hhNhd2zOLv45WVQV8n5xpoTHGU2pkcyVmI9RB_fo0wFMeeU6UFrb5d1704fjOyuQl9li8NolonYiKZqy0_FZg0W20CTIw69seGE-BJo-70g/s400/986.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"> This is a picture of John standing at the pulpit at the LMS church not far from our home. We’ve mentioned before that we’ve made friends with Reverend Esera and his wife Tamara. We’ve been to their church a couple of times and to their home several times. Esera asked John a couple of months ago if he’d be willing to preach to his congregation. A date was set up back in April sometime, but it turned out that we had an assignment to attend and speak at a Stake Conference over in Fa’ala Stake that weekend, so his LMS preaching was postponed until May 30th. When John was first asked he asked Esera if it was alright to share a story from the Book or Mormon as part of his sermon, the story of Ammon. We gave him a Samoan copy of the Book of Mormon to read the story and see what he thought. Because the preaching day was postponed, the subject was set aside for a while. He kept the Book and told us that he keeps it in the car and whenever he has to wait somewhere he reads it. On one of our visits to their home, I took our 50th anniversary photo book to show them and when they saw the pictures of John after the plane crash, they asked about the details. John told them the story and some of the things that his experience had taught him. They were very interested and asked if maybe John could use that as his subject when he came to preach. They asked him not to preach any strong Mormon doctrine, but just something that would help his congregation live better lives. He says he seldom preaches doctrine to them, just sermons and stories to help them live happy lives. He and Tamara are very liberal religious thinkers and feel that inspirational ideas should be used no matter where they come from, even the Mormons. So John translated the whole plane crash story into Samoan, along with thoughts about how it had changed his life and how we are all required to go through some adversities and how we can be strengthened by them. Typical of John, he spent a couple of weeks perfecting and then memorizing the talk. On that morning, he was very cool and relaxed and I think his sermon was very well received, not only by the congregation, but by Esera and Tamara and some of their church friends who we ate lunch with after church. John’s speech was the topic of most of the conversation at lunch, gratefully in English, and everyone was very complimentary of not only his presentation but his philosophy. It was a really fun day and a very satisfying one for John. I think the picture of him at the pulpit with the lighted red cross behind him is a perfect memory for us of that experience.<br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDhIm-mQVaFWpmFoTPnUAvEQeRp4qOu2C1SX81_nVXfpjajCsubMGhpU2dtp7LJYAQ6uP81tuYEhkNQmFDOi4wmP3acmADyocu_hNrVmGBsQ9csvt87GMSuAB1BILyzIBOoXMJ2hyphenhyphenQIw/s1600/988.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483035667709629234" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDhIm-mQVaFWpmFoTPnUAvEQeRp4qOu2C1SX81_nVXfpjajCsubMGhpU2dtp7LJYAQ6uP81tuYEhkNQmFDOi4wmP3acmADyocu_hNrVmGBsQ9csvt87GMSuAB1BILyzIBOoXMJ2hyphenhyphenQIw/s400/988.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwYUwEYDPN5aEZytb61uaHvuSCQgE8IvTU9OEgE0OSOVRcc3S4YdXNJd31RmawpVyXHSZPoDj-tZFqqBQY_-n-laeCNqMxYiWSkTVSir9MuhiMkAI729zred5Z1oEbAnxQQb1OzMitBQ/s1600/991.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483035586043544338" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwYUwEYDPN5aEZytb61uaHvuSCQgE8IvTU9OEgE0OSOVRcc3S4YdXNJd31RmawpVyXHSZPoDj-tZFqqBQY_-n-laeCNqMxYiWSkTVSir9MuhiMkAI729zred5Z1oEbAnxQQb1OzMitBQ/s400/991.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"> These next two pictures are of the big new ferry that we made our last trip to Apia on. It’s only been running for the past couple of months and is very nice, and faster than the other two older ferries. Besides open-air seating on the top level, the air-conditioned tourist class accommodations with comfortable seats and a movie on the second level, an elevator and a sick-bay, there is a business class lounge that is very spacious and furnished with upholstered easy chairs and tables and stewards to keep the travelers supplied with snacks and drinks. It’s also very pricey, so we just get to look at it through the window. The lowest level of the ferry is where all the cars and trucks are parked, where they can drive onto the ferry through the gate at one end and off the ferry through the gate at the other end, instead of having to either back on or back off as you do on the other ferries. The other photo is of the line you have to get into while you’re waiting for the ferry. It’s sort of first come, first serve, but if you get your reservation ahead of time, they usually let you move ahead of those who don’t have a reservation. Sometimes the line is longer than the number of spaces they have on the ferry, so some of those without reservations may not make it on that particular ferry and have to wait from 2 to 6 hours for the next one. We always get our ticket ahead of time, because our trips are planned ahead and closely timed and we have to stay on schedule. The trip usually takes about an hour and a half, but the new ferry will get us over in about an hour and 15 minutes. We’ve learned not to ride on the top level of the new ferry, because it rides so high, that you really feel the swells of the ocean. On our first new-ferry trip we were late getting seats and had to sit on the top deck and it’s the closest we’ve come to getting seasick since we got here. We make it a point now for me to go ahead and get the ticket for my seat early and stand in line to save seats on the second level, while John waits in line to bring the car on. They don’t let you reserve the passenger seats ahead of time. The fee for the car includes the seat for the driver.<br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNzA6fzbPeNRMw4GvnaMtsluRkOGIgLAm9OwZ6KdGvUoB0DMQJ2fW9XxwqeLWYvZ45UkeQDlGH4iZus0TpF-42sqoYsna-RvZgzZTi7ZgUnytBN64hwGuZkpgYoLNNSXHBhQGtm7128A/s1600/994.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483035508614179586" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNzA6fzbPeNRMw4GvnaMtsluRkOGIgLAm9OwZ6KdGvUoB0DMQJ2fW9XxwqeLWYvZ45UkeQDlGH4iZus0TpF-42sqoYsna-RvZgzZTi7ZgUnytBN64hwGuZkpgYoLNNSXHBhQGtm7128A/s400/994.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"> This last picture is of me sitting in the waiting room, outside as you can see, waiting to go to my first doctor appointment in Samoa. We were over in Apia, at a small private hospital/clinic where they send the missionaries. It was very nice and the doctor we saw was Dr. Puni, a native Samoan, who had actually been trained in Fiji, and then London, and spent a lot of years practicing in the U.S. He had decided to finish his last few years of practice back home in Samoa, and he seemed very well qualified. When he learned that John had been an anatomy professor, they had a conversation about the merits of the ‘old school’ philosophy of teaching anatomy with cadavers, instead of models and pictures. I was a little nervous about getting medical help in Samoa, because there are stories about the poor service here, but I had to have a liver function blood test to make sure it was okay for me to keep taking my Celebrex, for the pain of arthritis. I also had a problem with bursitis flaring up in my shoulder that recurs every 6 months or so. At home I would go to my rheumatologist for an ultrasound-guided shot right into the bursa, but had heard from the Mission area medical advisor, Dr. Fuller, who was here a couple of months ago, that I’d not find that treatment in Samoa. When I talked on the skype to Benj, he told me that he often gives that shot without the ultra-sound. When we saw Dr. Puni, he know exactly what we were talking about and proceeded to give me the shot. It was not fun, as usual, but I’ve had great relief from it since then. I’m so happy to know that if the bursitis flares up again, which it probably will a couple times while we’re here, I can get the help I need. My liver function blood test turned out just fine too, so I can continue getting the arthritis pain relief from Celebrex for the next few months, until I need the blood test again. I left the clinic feeling much more confident about the basic medical help available to us here. If any of us needed by-pass surgery, that would be a different story. One of the senior missionaries over in Apia had a problem with his heart and when the Mission nurse contacted Dr. Fuller in New Zealand, he pushed hard to change the rule about sending him back to Salt Lake for what he needed because he said he probably wouldn’t survive the long plane ride to Utah. New Zealand is only a four hour flight from here, so Elder Bell went down there for a couple of weeks for his by-pass surgery, and is still here on his mission and doing just fine. His wife insists that Dr. Fuller’s stubborn insistence on not putting him on a plane to SLC probably saved his life. It’s also nice to know that that kind of medical help is not so far away as I thought. Hopefully, we’ll have no need for it, but it’s nice to know anyway.<br /><br />Well, that’s it for this blog finally. I am determined to get the photos attached and get this sent off before the day is over.<br /><br />Love to all family and friends from John and Karen </span><div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>John & Karen Kroghhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08097598934218597824noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7660554378340018126.post-77644142649034991702010-05-14T08:51:00.000-07:002010-05-14T12:55:23.687-07:00<span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;">#8. April 18, 2010<br /><br />Well, here we are again with an overdue blog entry. We are getting so busy that it’s hard to find time to sit down and work on this project. I actually look forward to writing it, but it never seems to fit into our schedule, except after John goes to bed—like right now for instance. Dad fell asleep half an hour ago and I’ve been trying to finish up a little puttering before I could sit down to this. It is good to be so busy. I am beginning to feel more at home here, in spite of the heat and humidity. Either it’s not quite so hot, or else we’re adapting to it better. It’s not that we’ve stopped sweating 24/7; it’s just that we don’t think about it so much any more. Like everyone else in Samoa, we carry around our little white sweat cloths (like a small terry cloth hand towel), and just keep mopping our brows and faces all the time. We can buy these little cloths at most any store for about 80 cents American and they actually say “sweat cloth” on the label. We probably own over a dozen now and we go through 3 or 4 per day. Sounds pretty high class, huh? We’re getting more and more Samoan day by day.<br /><br />We’re still teaching two English classes and spend some time helping high school kids with their English homework. One girl that I’ve been working with individually on some of her final Senior projects is Eliza (pronounced eh-lee-sah). She’s the Bishop’s daughter at one of the wards we work with, and we’ve become great friends. She’ll soon be graduating from the Church College (high school) up at Vaiola, where we lived for the first month we were here. She’s gone there for 7 years now and speaks quite good English, even though she’s needed quite a bit of help polishing off some of her final term papers, etc. I really enjoyed helping her, especially with an essay she had to write about the importance of gaining life skills through education and other life experiences. She didn’t know where to start and I just suggested that she go back as far as she could remember about the things she learned from her parents and family before she even started school, then on to all of her school experiences, etc. She actually has a pretty good flair for writing, but needed help with making the English more perfect, mostly in terms of tense, which is really different between English and Samoan. When she finished her paper, she asked if I had a camera she could borrow to take some pictures to go along with her paper. She would need to keep it for about 5 days in order to get the pictures taken and then back to school after the Easter holiday to have her teacher put them on the computer and print copies for her. I was very reluctant to let it out of my hands, but we’d become such good friends that I hated to say no, so I made her promise to guard it with her life and keep it away from her younger siblings. I guess it sounded a little selfish, but she was very understanding about it and did take good care of it. </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiro2Tz4Z2kZM7jBLKeAzuA37VZg7qwoDz4rGF9EEdditrO1Wb9Adky3lyKytGwTFWdCxtgnm_hNKOKTLcSBt6GnrLqThyphenhyphenW06iCOqeGolhQxMg0HbUjGv_aZ1Diu-6cBNwYDOjhaTx3IA/s1600/681.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471157393748282978" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiro2Tz4Z2kZM7jBLKeAzuA37VZg7qwoDz4rGF9EEdditrO1Wb9Adky3lyKytGwTFWdCxtgnm_hNKOKTLcSBt6GnrLqThyphenhyphenW06iCOqeGolhQxMg0HbUjGv_aZ1Diu-6cBNwYDOjhaTx3IA/s400/681.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;">In the picture, she is sitting right in the front of her group of friends in their school uniforms, with our camera bag wrapped around her neck and ‘guarding it with her life’. She’s turned 18 now and goes to YSA (young single adults), so we don’t see as much of her in our classes as we did before, but we’re still great friends.<br /><br />We had another very busy weekend last week, when the Mission nurse and her husband escorted the area medical advisor around the Samoan Islands to do a medical evaluation on all the missionaries in the whole mission. It took them the better part of a week, and they spent two days here on Savaii. Friday they spent the whole day seeing all 30 missionaries on this island, with a short break at lunch time for a general lecture on each missionary taking good care of him or herself. His talk was based on President Hinckley’s profound advice to all the missionaries at the MTC when he said “just don’t do anything stupid”. I guess when you consider that he was talking to hundreds of 19-year-old boys, that doesn’t seem too far off base. After the lecture, I helped Sister Kelly, the mission nurse, fix a light lunch for them all—missionaries and medical workers--and then they went back to work for several hours after that and we went home. The next day, however, they had asked us to kind of give them a guided tour of some of the local sights on the island and we had a great time with all of them. We discovered as we were visiting over lunch on Friday that the Area Medical Advisor, Elder (doctor) Fuller was the father of one of John’s old medical students, who had also lived in our ward in Kirksville. The son, Dr. Mike Fuller and his wife Rachel and 3 kids, are very dear friends of Lee and Janelle. The older Fullers had met the Vorkinks when they were in Kirksville for Mike’s graduation from Medical School. It seems that no matter where you go in the Church, you always run into someone you’ve known somewhere else, or somebody who knows someone you know. It is such a small world. One of the other Senior couples who just arrived in Savaii to take the place of the Montgomerys, had asked us where all of our children lived. We told them and when we said that three of the families lived in Grantsville, they were shocked. Several of their grandchildren went to Grantsville High School when they were living in Stansbury Park, until this year when a new high school opened up in Stansbury. After talking about our grandkids, we decided that we had probably been in the same auditorium and gym at the same time watching musicals and ball games. Their Son-in-law is the new principal at the new school and we forgot to ask the names of their grandkids to see if any of our kids know them. The missionaries’ name is Checketts, but their daughter is married to the principal, so we don’t know her married name. We’ll try to get some names before we finish the blog and send it off. (I was able to get the last name, Toppam or Topham or something like that, and the only first name I could remember was Kimberly Tophen (?). Do any of you Grantsville people know them?)<br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpsv2jN2yZjDxa8MZrdOCKTUxObUgU-sLpkZv4eseaaRjqEnRsHTINu9BreYrcmxJqWb676BM0ZoVZCe6nbeilrRPg-MupaZihVIpD5TSRfqJ3sjY_J3_weoNtzVTRlTyVazjglK_E9Q/s1600/759.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471161098590098706" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpsv2jN2yZjDxa8MZrdOCKTUxObUgU-sLpkZv4eseaaRjqEnRsHTINu9BreYrcmxJqWb676BM0ZoVZCe6nbeilrRPg-MupaZihVIpD5TSRfqJ3sjY_J3_weoNtzVTRlTyVazjglK_E9Q/s400/759.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;"> </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6If0j0OxlLLC4ijI3uhzeq0oARiH3lt59af-GU_FTUd4Oxd8Ba-mMVYgRn3PwwFSSrlDhXpv6zz7I_LisU9D1HkBB8g-1eemZM_3VTM2hiCXc7uVHK4voUaXC_vo7ax2SFINcZyBYwg/s1600/765.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471156323533117490" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6If0j0OxlLLC4ijI3uhzeq0oARiH3lt59af-GU_FTUd4Oxd8Ba-mMVYgRn3PwwFSSrlDhXpv6zz7I_LisU9D1HkBB8g-1eemZM_3VTM2hiCXc7uVHK4voUaXC_vo7ax2SFINcZyBYwg/s400/765.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;"> One of the sites we took them to was what they call the “blowholes”. It’s a place right on the beach where the volcanic rock has formed caverns underneath the surface, and as the surf crashes into those caverns, the water shoots up through holes in the rock to make like a geyser effect on the surface. Someone said they shoot 80 to 90 feet high. When you get there a little old Samoan man comes up with a basket of cocoanuts, walks up to the hole and, timing it very exactly, throws a couple of cocoanuts in the hole just before it blows and the cocoanuts blow even higher than the water. It’s hard to get a good picture of what it’s really like, but I tried anyway. After the little old man used up all of his cocoanuts, he comes up and informs us that it will be 30 tala for the show, even though we had paid 5 tala each to get past the gate by the road. We gave him the money and had a good laugh and it had actually been a very good show.<br /><br />We really enjoyed our day with those people, even though we were kind of going by the seat of our pants as tour guides. Luckily we were able to find and show them some beautiful sites and then took them back to a wonderful little beach hotel, where we do most of our snorkeling, and had a terrific buffet lunch just above the beach, where several of them went wading after the meal. If our kids are ever able to make it down here at the end of our mission, like they’ve talked about, that little hotel with the snorkeling and surfing and the little fales right on the beach is where we’d like to have them stay for a few days. It is just perfect—a little primitive, but still just perfect Samoa.<br /></span><div align="left"><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw44hGHO76Is0gWxf9cTtGzVqKh6bxf8s3iTa363Qrk_pHo1NkwmDFcKXUJvxvPkE8jMBMEmiB1HOhAKW0f80p3p-Sd34h5nHTLOP83qNo1DvGUX20e4t-SX6U_dsZKJQBZ0feXqLLvA/s1600/738.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471156562141212482" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw44hGHO76Is0gWxf9cTtGzVqKh6bxf8s3iTa363Qrk_pHo1NkwmDFcKXUJvxvPkE8jMBMEmiB1HOhAKW0f80p3p-Sd34h5nHTLOP83qNo1DvGUX20e4t-SX6U_dsZKJQBZ0feXqLLvA/s400/738.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;"> Mom with Kellys, Checketts, and Fullers </span></div><div><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;">Elder and Sister Kelly, the mission nurse and her husband, were in the MTC with us and they are just a peach of a couple. They were born in England, then moved to Nova Scotia and on to Canada, where they joined the Church and they live now. They have never lost their English accent and they are just an adorable couple. They are the little short ones on the end in the picture. The Fullers are next to me on my left and the Checketts are on my right. We had to end the day about 2:30, so they could make it back to the Ferry to make the trip back to Upolo, and then the Fullers would finish their evaluations of all the other missionaries on the other islands and head back to New Zealand, their home base for the whole South Pacific region.<br /><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ2cwtCEStCc2KauYzl3NFhdjiSXPey-l3zrh4aBRabYucmd0WHT4-0bLqerJqz1U487W4bfUohP4gyn_eIy2D9gXDC5WSOe3A3VrWF4Fnvq5QW2D1dKU8svyxbaXrTCroFOqJC6X43g/s1600/717.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471156967504326482" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ2cwtCEStCc2KauYzl3NFhdjiSXPey-l3zrh4aBRabYucmd0WHT4-0bLqerJqz1U487W4bfUohP4gyn_eIy2D9gXDC5WSOe3A3VrWF4Fnvq5QW2D1dKU8svyxbaXrTCroFOqJC6X43g/s400/717.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;"> Dinner at our house with Kellys and Montgomerys</span></div><div><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;">The Kellys had come over to Savaii about a month ago to do checkups for all the missionaries. They have fed us several times when we’ve gone over to Apia, so we invited them along with the Montgomerys, to have dinner at our place the first evening they were here. The Kellys are the ones closest to the camera, opposite each other, and the Montgomerys are next to Dad. The six of us were pretty packed around our little table, but we made it work. We had to borrow two chairs from the hotel in order to seat us all. I love these times with the other senior missionaries. They are all just like family to us.<br /><br />One of the other things we did when the Kelly’s were here on that trip was to go visit some elders in their little house on the Fa’ala church grounds and hang some curtains that the Kellys had brought over from the Mission Home.<br /><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK6H5jNK1FcQk2G-D9zsz6qB7mCMFuyOBt-3o_Spto9zE4GECh-jFo4LL6rig_sAoRwmb3nvFniZsMJ1AgVudjr_3UkxrWf34TWGU_Mdwb2pHWjOPezjRW5_vLdqGGz4WsEsrnR5eRxQ/s1600/721.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471156900504353890" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK6H5jNK1FcQk2G-D9zsz6qB7mCMFuyOBt-3o_Spto9zE4GECh-jFo4LL6rig_sAoRwmb3nvFniZsMJ1AgVudjr_3UkxrWf34TWGU_Mdwb2pHWjOPezjRW5_vLdqGGz4WsEsrnR5eRxQ/s400/721.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;"> Elders Smithing and Tonga with sox<br /><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxYpnfUMH2sjvXV3z7T1rS2QGGupeiUALYziKRuQ6QsIBR3d82_OAiwnyD81_ssNhlsP5eUlC7aT2AAfH_YBDJn3_IscUGypJfoPSatBVjxQjaY5oC7Y3tLa5DqHGDW-ZS4yE46mb9Gg/s1600/724.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471156819095056562" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxYpnfUMH2sjvXV3z7T1rS2QGGupeiUALYziKRuQ6QsIBR3d82_OAiwnyD81_ssNhlsP5eUlC7aT2AAfH_YBDJn3_IscUGypJfoPSatBVjxQjaY5oC7Y3tLa5DqHGDW-ZS4yE46mb9Gg/s400/724.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;"> Missionary house with laundry</span></div><div><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;">As we took the elders’ picture with their new curtains, we also had to show how they hung their newly laundered stockings on the louvered windows to dry. The two elders in the picture were some of our favorites. Elder Smithing on the left is from Layton, Utah and Elder Tonga is a native Tongan, who actually lives in Australia. Unfortunately, they were both transferred to Upolo this week, so I’m not sure when or if we’ll get to see them again. The other picture is of their little house, with their other laundry hanging on the line, each piece having been tied on, because they had no clothespins, I guess. Almost every ward building has a missionary house on the grounds that houses two missionaries, elders or sisters. They have a tiny living room/kitchen, one bedroom and a bath. They’re pretty compact but very nice.<br /><br />The following weekend the Mission President asked us to go along with his counselor in the Presidency to visit a Stake Conference over in Fa’ala Stake, about a half hour’s drive south from us. President Tonumaipe’a, the counselor, asked Dad to speak at the Priesthood session on Saturday morning and asked me to speak at the Parent’s session later that day. We would need to speak in Samoan for the most part, which is a piece of cake for Dad, but a real headache for me. I composed my speak in English first and then had it translated into Samoan with the help of Dad and a lady in our ward. It was all hand written and double spaced, with a lot of open space between each word so that I could find my way easily. I made all the punctuation marks in orange, so that I could keep track of the phrasing and pronunciation. I agonized over that talk all week and ended up having to cut it short because I would be reading it so slowly and carefully. We had to arrive at Fa’aIa quite early because the Priesthood session was at 8:00 a.m. I dropped dad off and I found a nice tree to park under and sit in the car and read my talk over several times.<br /><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzF_uhJ-pQGSmmzv9mrepftktx3FLIceOqUWlvBivVYPY-igc5nnNZn3_D_WcP2w7GXeIVqqzJ6gDinhZsLRdFobIAJe4HGl_ZhbLIbvzXeFqmKlEdolgNMKPZtC4a0mzpQPWGxKFPlA/s1600/730.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471156746563810626" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzF_uhJ-pQGSmmzv9mrepftktx3FLIceOqUWlvBivVYPY-igc5nnNZn3_D_WcP2w7GXeIVqqzJ6gDinhZsLRdFobIAJe4HGl_ZhbLIbvzXeFqmKlEdolgNMKPZtC4a0mzpQPWGxKFPlA/s400/730.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;"> Buses unloading Priesthood men and boys</span></div><div><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;">While I was sitting there in the car, several buses pulled up and unloaded men and boys in their white shirts and ties headed for the meeting. Very few people have their own cars, so they mostly walk to church. Since this was a stake meeting, they had to come much further, so they hire buses to carry them all the long distance to the Stake Center. More buses would come later loaded with all the women and families. When the Priesthood meeting was over, I went in and joined Dad in the Stake President’s office, which was gratefully air-conditioned. We visited for a few minutes with him and the Temple President and his wife, President and Sister Hanks, who had come over from Upolo to be guests of honor for the Conference. President Phillip Hanks and Dad were missionaries here at the same time 55 years ago, and we’ve seen them off and on over the years at missionary reunions. President Hanks is also the younger brother of our dear old Friend from Kirksville, David Hanks (small world again). We were all then invited into the High Council room where a lovely brunch was laid out for us all. One great thing about Samoa is that you’ll never go hungry. They always have to feed you and there’s always too much. As soon as we finished eating, it was time to go into the next session where I would be speaking. Before we went into the chapel, some sisters put beautiful flower leis around our necks. As we sat in our seats on the stand I could see that the whole chapel and cultural hall were filled with people. I had been pretty nervous before the meeting, but I got worse as I realized that I had to make myself heard and understood by all these faithful Samoans who had come to be inspired that day. If it hadn’t been for the incredible music performed by two different choirs, I would never have calmed down. I have to say that whenever you are in a Samoan congregation, the singing is just so heartfelt and harmonious.<br /><br />The music prepared for this conference was absolutely amazing. They have some incredibly talented music people in that stake. The chorister and organist for just the hymn singing were amazing. We’d sing the first verse of the song, then the chorister would nod to the organist and she would play a little interlude and then modulate the music into another key as we moved on to the next verse. When that verse was over, they did it again to another key. I just loved it!! When the choir did their performances, there was another man who came forward and led the choir (who always sit in the front several rows of the chapel because there would absolutely not be room for them all in the choir seats). There must have been at least 100 people in the choir. The choir conductor sort of lead the choir with his head as his hands played the accompaniment on a keyboard that was positioned right between the pulpit and the first row of benches where the choir was sitting. The music was all sung in English and was beautifully arranged and performed. I was overwhelmed by their expertise and the great spirit of their singing. The final number they did was the arrangement of Battle Hymn of the Republic that the Tabernacle Choir sings, accompanied again by the conductor, and I have to say that they were almost as good as MoTab. By the time they sang that number, I had finished my talk and could relax and joyfully almost sing along with them.<br /><br />Earlier, when I had to give my talk, I was feeling more calm and soothed by the incredible music and it actually went pretty well. I had to read it word by word in Samoan in order to keep from making mistakes, and if my eyes ever left the page to look up at the audience, I had to keep my finger on the place I had stopped, or I would never have found my way back to the right place again. I did tell one little story in English, because it was about a very powerful spiritual experience I had had doing sealings in the Samoan Temple, and I was afraid that if I tried to say it in Samoan I’d not be able to convey the spirit of it, because I would be too worried about saying the words wrong. Probably a third of the people there couldn’t understand me, but I hope they felt the spirit at least. I felt so good when I had finished without any major mistakes and could then just sit back and enjoy the next 24 hours of the conference in peace. After that second session of the day, they fed us another big delicious meal and we went on home knowing that our speaking responsibilities at this conference were behind us.<br /><br />The next morning, Sunday, they had us come an hour early so that they could feed us breakfast again. After breakfast, we were each adorned with another beautiful flower lei, and then the Stake President told us about the speaking schedule for that morning’s general session and John and I were expected speak again. Now that would be no problem for John, but I had practically no time to even panic, because I had to come up with something in about ten minutes. Fortunately, I keep notes in my purse for a couple of other simple little talks and a testimony in Samoan, because John told me that I would often walk into a meeting and be asked to speak. I also included a little story in English, one that I had cut from the talk I had done the day before, and was able to come up with a short--very short--talk and testimony for that meeting. There were plenty of speakers for that session and I was happy to leave them all the time they needed. After the session, they had prepared a big lunch for the visitors again, but John and I had to beg off because we needed to be at another sacrament meeting right away.<br /><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUTKDblCeZZVWUZZRXWLufI3jGFliim4M_I1t8jp-g04U3Qm_1Tn5yQdXKwhzbWHTYoiBaJQHDKwK8nKAm1Qfu8fsikBYl_QMJGGeF2jsCta_ZlgfIfdNl87h6LrY1IEFcBJ-E9TJw5A/s1600/732.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471156686048058386" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUTKDblCeZZVWUZZRXWLufI3jGFliim4M_I1t8jp-g04U3Qm_1Tn5yQdXKwhzbWHTYoiBaJQHDKwK8nKAm1Qfu8fsikBYl_QMJGGeF2jsCta_ZlgfIfdNl87h6LrY1IEFcBJ-E9TJw5A/s400/732.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;"> The Tonumaipe'as, the Hanks and the Kroghs<br /><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGc1dgZWfEUtrYIFD6gKa_d5J7833YnCgRrecdXfh4VoUR0riVJydY0LaXm1f0MT3xmdn_pBbQRog2sEIogdTS_OqY0PIEAF6zwAYF2gKTjrPGWLJ0EtJKmE-l3JNdfbQH5h90Y8qNXw/s1600/733.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471156621900721650" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGc1dgZWfEUtrYIFD6gKa_d5J7833YnCgRrecdXfh4VoUR0riVJydY0LaXm1f0MT3xmdn_pBbQRog2sEIogdTS_OqY0PIEAF6zwAYF2gKTjrPGWLJ0EtJKmE-l3JNdfbQH5h90Y8qNXw/s400/733.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;"> Before we left, we gathered together for pictures. The first one is of President and Sister Tonumaipe’a, President and Sister Hanks, next to me, and Elder and Sister Krogh, of course. The second one is a close-up of the Lovely flower leis we had worn for the second day of the conference. Wow, was I happy to have that weekend behind me. We did, however, have a remarkable and uplifting time at that conference overall, in spite of the worry over our (my) talks.<br /><br />This past week has been filled right up with all kinds of missionary activities. Since our major focus is finding and visiting and hopefully helping to reactive inactive families, it appears we really have our work cut out for us. We’ve received a list from the Bishop of the ward we live in, and it was really scary. He had marked every inactive family in blue and it looked like more than half were marked blue. When we got together with the list and the Ward Mission leader, however, he was able to cross several of them off the list because they had moved out of the area. We’ve spent several days going with him to find and meet these members. Often, we don’t find them home and will have to try again at a different time of day. We have found some at home and at first they seemed a little uncomfortable with us there, but after visiting with them for awhile, things loosened up a little and we had a nice visit. The one couple said they still had testimonies of the gospel, but they were under pressure from their family and village to be available for the big Sunday feast, that was at the same time as church. We asked if we could stop by at other times and maybe bring them a message. They seemed okay with that. They live right close to the road where we travel a lot and so we’ll just honk and wave every once in a while and then maybe stop for a visit again. (I’m writing this about two weeks later, and we’ve had some wonderful things happen with this family. We went to visit them again on a Friday morning and left them a copy of the Liahona and asked if maybe we could come the following Monday night and have a family home evening with them. The wife, Pa’i, was the only one home, but she accepted quite readily which surprised us. On Sunday morning, two days later, we had just gotten seated in the Sunday School class, when I turned around and noticed that they had come into the church and were sitting a little way behind us with their littlest boy, Fiso, 3 yrs old. We waved at them and then went to sit by them for Sacrament meeting. Their other children had gone into Primary and Young Women and came in to sit with them for Sacrament meeting. I was so surprised and excited to see them there. We had a really great time at their home the next evening for family night. I told them that I was so happy to see them at church on Sunday, because I know what a sacrifice it was for them to come on such a busy day when they had the other village duties. The husband, Manono, humbly confessed that the real reason they had not been coming to church was that he had had his feelings hurt a couple of years ago when his mother died. I guess it’s kind of a custom for ward members to come to the home of someone who has died and sing outside their home. For some reason, no one came when his mother died and he was really hurt by it. We were touched that he would share that with us and were reminded of an editorial on the back page of a Church News we’d been given a copy of. It was entitled “Let it go” and was about the very subject of being offended by other church members, and leaving the church because of it. We told him about it and promised we’d bring him a copy to read, which we did a couple of days later. They came to church again the next Sunday for Mother’s Day, and it turns out that the Primary President has sent the missionaries over there to visit them because their 9 yr-old boy has not been baptized yet. That baptism is now scheduled for next Saturday. What a joy to experience some success, after so many disappointments. Sounds like a typical mission, right?)<br /><br />Another family who said they still had good feelings about the church, were taking care of a 95-year-old grandfather who was a powerful matai and would not allow them to come to church. These people have strong ties to their families and it’s difficult for them to go against their wishes. They said that as soon as the grandfather dies, they’ll head back to church. We asked if it would create problems for them if we visited once in a while and they said no. Yesterday, we stopped back over there and left them a copy of this month’s Liahona so they’ll have some contact with church messages. One young woman that we visited and invited to church told us it was too far to walk with her tiny baby, so we offered to pick her up. She accepted and went to church with us one time and then to a general conference session the next week. Her husband is a member of another church and she is nervous about letting us visit with him or invite him to church. Last Saturday we stopped over there to see if she wanted a ride again the next day, but found she had a black eye. She said she was too embarrassed to go to church that way. When Dad asked what had happened, she said she was hit with a cocoanut. He blatantly asked her if she had been beaten, but she said no. When we reported back to the Relief Society counselor who had planned to pick her up for us that day because we were going to another stake conference, she was a little suspicious that she had been abused, and possibly because we had been visiting her and taking her to church. I guess it’s not uncommon for such beatings to take place. We felt really bad. The Bishop’s wife has been assigned as her visiting teacher and will visit her soon to make sure everything is okay before we go back again. Whoa! This is getting really interesting. We’ve visited several elderly women who just say they are too old to go to church, or their husband is LMS and they go with him, or the church is too far away and they go to another church which is right next door to their house. It’s pretty discouraging, but we feel we’re on good terms with most of them and will continue to visit occasionally.<br /><br />We’re almost finished with the first visits in the Mckay first ward and have made a few visits with the ward mission leader in the Fusi Ward. We’ve had some really nice visits, but the most interesting one was with a family where the father had been a Stake Patriarch, was offended by someone and is completely inactive and pretty bitter. He wasn’t home the day we visited, but we had such a lovely visit with his wife and grown daughter, who both have some pretty positive feelings about the church, but their father and husband won’t allow them to go. We bore our testimonies to them and they shed some tears as we did. The old mother is quite feeble and practically stone deaf, but her daughter translated for her by speaking loudly right in her ear. She appears to be senile, but when I asked the daughter if she understood, she said yes. Knowing what it’s like to not hear everything that’s going on because of my own bad ears, my heart went out to her because she has so little communication even with her family. She seemed so sad and lonely. I was shocked when the daughter told us she was 71 years old. That’s my age and she looks almost 90. They seemed to enjoy our visit and we intend to go back and visit again and maybe catch the father too. The elders say he is a hard man and has been quite rude to them when they’ve come to visit. I guess we have that to look forward to. Somehow I feel that Dad will be able to get through to him at least enough to make him more friendly toward us than he is toward the elders.<br /><br />Another family we visited is a single mother with 4 children who has joined the church, but another cantankerous grandpa won’t let her go and certainly won’t let the children be baptized. She’s been very receptive to us and allowed us to come along with the elders and do a family home evening. When she heard we taught English classes, she asked if we could come and teach her children English and she wants to spend time speaking English with me, because she speaks a little English and would like some practice. We’re hoping when the old grandpa learns that we’re helping his grandchildren, he might be willing to meet us and then I think Dad can charm him with his age, his kindness and his Samoan. He really has a knack of breaking the ice with these old Samoan men. I’ve seen it happen several times and it’s so fun to see their reaction to this old white guy keeping up with them and joking with them in Samoan. I think he can soften the hardest hearts. As we move on from ward to ward, we’ll go back occasionally and visit some of our first contacts and hope the fellowshipping we’ve encouraged among ward members will help to soften more hearts. Eventually we’re supposed to visit with all the wards on the island and hopefully enlist the ward members to join us in our visits and take over after we’ve moved on. There are five stakes on Savaii and we are the only senior missionaries on this island working on reactivation. The numbers are staggering when we think of them and wish we had several other couples to help, but nobody seems to want to live in such an isolated setting.<br /><br />JOHN – A big issue here right now is whether to allow other new religions to come into Samoa or not. Public opinion meetings were held all over the country last week to get input from the people. After talking to some of the locals, I think the real concern is that Muslim extremists might come here and cause problems in a country that is probably almost 100% Christian. The Samoan constitution provides for religious freedom, and so this should make it so any new religion would be allowed in. There is talk about changing the constitution to give the village matais the right to exclude any religion they wanted to from their own villages. Some of our church leaders have suggested that this might allow some matais to exclude us from their villages. Our church leaders have presented our official position on government (D&C 134) and many other explanations of our beliefs regarding religious freedom (Article of Faith #11), and their presentations have been very well received by the government leaders.<br /><br />Our comfort level here has improved greatly. Karen is much more comfortable. She even goes jogging off in a different direction from me some mornings. She shops by herself at times, and asks questions of people on the street. She used to panic whenever I was out of sight. She has finally realized that these are good, kind, and fun-loving people, and she is not afraid at all when she walks up a jungle road and passes between a group of machete-wielding men on their way to work in their plantations. She still is reluctant to talk in church, even though she knows most of them understand the gist of what she is saying. She works hard each day to learn more words, and I’m sure there are few other palagi women senior missionaries in this country who would put themselves in a position so uncomfortable as she has. We are the only white senior missionaries on this whole island right now.<br /><br />KAREN – John is right about my comfort level. I am feeling so much better physically and mentally, especially since Benj helped me adjust my meds. I don’t wake up every morning dreading the day and am finding real joy in our work here. I had a very difficult time at first. I had pretty severe stomach problems. I don’t know if it was from the change in diet and water, or just anxiety that was causing the constant stomach ache, but I was really miserable for a while there. I actually lost 35 pounds over a period of two months, because of eating very little, and I was obedient about my early morning exercise, certainly not because I wanted to get up at 6:30 and go jogging every morning. I’m thrilled to have the pounds gone and hope I can keep them off, but I wouldn’t want to lose them that way again.<br /><br />I really must end this now. It’s way overdue and we are going into town to send and pickup emails this morning and have a very busy few days after that. We have some other success stories to share, but if I start them now we’ll never get this blog sent off. So… we’ll save them for next time.<br /><br />We send our love to you all and hope life it treating you well.<br /><br />Elder and Sister Krogh.</span></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>John & Karen Kroghhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08097598934218597824noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7660554378340018126.post-47090699309290031622010-04-11T09:25:00.001-07:002010-05-14T12:56:40.342-07:00<span style="font-size:130%;"></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI-XvfDu4cHGCZU8pDzdYTlnvPvGj2Zhh62Bg8PLwcuc_qNhzuIEjpbTkYGkLZiUi33yC2LMkADZxO5p7DeVw8AEYrZDiM1L30Wh5BumTxvP79vYZ9uhVPx5az9yhQZ86qe3o0WriFVA/s1600/558.jpg"></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#330000;">#7. Sunday, March 28, 2010<br /><br />As I was looking at the date today, I realized it has been one month since I started the last blog entry. It was spread over a couple of weeks, so I guess it’s been a couple of weeks since I posted the last one.<br /><br />We manage to keep very busy these days, for which I’m grateful. I can get a little down and homesick still if I don’t keep myself moving in one direction or the other. I’m learning that I have a great deal of the responsibility to keep my spirits up myself by just keeping busy, talking positively to myself and lots and lots of prayer.<br /><br />We spent three days over in Apia last week going to the temple, picking up more books and materials for our English classes, shopping for much needed things we can’t get on Savai’i, and spending some time with several other senior couples who work around the temple and mission home. They have a big gathering on family night two times a month and we’ve been able to time our trips to join them. There are probably about 20 couples over there, some who work with the mission, some who work at the Temple and others who are on CES missions and teach at the church schools. We really enjoy that association and I wish we could afford to go over more often. It costs about $190 Samoan talas (approximately $90 US) for the round trip ferry ride for the car and the driver, and then the passenger pays about $12 ST each way, so that’s another $24 ST (about $13 US). So each trip costs us over $100, which is more than we should spend if we want to go more than once a month. Dad would probably be just as happy to stay home (in Savai’i). The difference in the pace of life from Savaii to Apia is kind of like going from Wallsburg to Provo--lots more cars, people, noise, better shopping, etc. Now you know why he’s so happy here in Savai’I (and in Wallsburg for that matter). For me comparing this to Wallsburg is not quite the same. At least, in Wallsburg, I could hop in the car and be in town in 15 or 20 minutes if I needed some civilization. An example of how quiet this place is would be when you stop at the traffic light in Salelologa, about 3 miles around the island from us, you would know exactly where you were, even if you had been blindfolded before you stopped. The reason you’d know where you are is that there is only one traffic light on all of the Island of Savai’i and it’s there because it’s the road that comes up from the wharf, the only way to get cars onto the island. The houses are all close together along the beach road, especially as you move away from the Wharf road. As you go on around the island, they start thinning out until you have several miles between villages. I don’t mean to make this sound critical of this island. It is truly a beautiful, quiet and restful place and people come here from all over the world to get-away-from-it- all. Another amazing thing about this island, that you don’t find in the more heavily populated Samoan islands, is that you practically never see a policeman. There are some down by the wharf where the traffic is moving in and out, but crime is not really an issue over here.<br /><br />This is a beautiful island, with even more beautiful and friendly people. Gratefully, there are more English speakers here than I expected, so that makes my lack of good Samoan a little easier to deal with. I am still studying the language a lot, but the problem with my bad ears gives me trouble. I can learn a phrase on paper and in my head, but when it comes out of the mouth of a native Samoan, it doesn’t sound like what I learned. I struggle even with the Native’s accented English. I hope my old brain will start tuning in to their language and accent sometime soon. All the elders, including John, tell me it will come in time. I hope they are right.<br /><br />One of the beautiful spots we found on this island is a sparkling clear river that runs from high in the mountains and empties into the ocean down by the beach road. We had been attending a zone conference on around the island one morning, and someone suggested we stop at this river and take the little road that winds up toward the top. As we turned in and started up the road, there was a little fale with some men sitting inside who were collecting money from anyone who wanted to see the falls up the road. It cost us each $5.00 ST (about $2.25 US) and was well worth the expenditure.<br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFQ_CauqpFKf2fgeLQwz7u1ciM_6tjlVWx6JkjOHw6e2Ix0IUHSFBHkAE21Pf0ZaHYswwgGTnF7lQsIDZ4ncIhymdXQHTEKGFCzTnoVzqPaOaX1oPLuk86OIl1yOLyz9-eHYYynGm_nA/s1600/511.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#330000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458917130739456274" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFQ_CauqpFKf2fgeLQwz7u1ciM_6tjlVWx6JkjOHw6e2Ix0IUHSFBHkAE21Pf0ZaHYswwgGTnF7lQsIDZ4ncIhymdXQHTEKGFCzTnoVzqPaOaX1oPLuk86OIl1yOLyz9-eHYYynGm_nA/s400/511.jpg" /></span></a><span style="color:#330000;"><span style="font-size:130%;"> As we started to follow the river up, we came across our first little waterfalls, four of them emptying into one large pool, and another just above it falling into the next pool. You can see all five in this first picture.<br /></span><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZXR7PQ1jpcs7PVfIEqYFVpIJwN6SywAsIulZwOAhobMwxlvRCDoHyLob4I2Lz4yQW9HwNrwiqgHWFt2It1d7nnELZqsWPelPRiGmk58UBTUxnq-ERvSBUmO1JfHm1CZGxtco8xUGZcg/s1600/514.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#330000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458917298608635058" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZXR7PQ1jpcs7PVfIEqYFVpIJwN6SywAsIulZwOAhobMwxlvRCDoHyLob4I2Lz4yQW9HwNrwiqgHWFt2It1d7nnELZqsWPelPRiGmk58UBTUxnq-ERvSBUmO1JfHm1CZGxtco8xUGZcg/s400/514.jpg" /></span></a><span style="color:#330000;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzE6cqPI_GhuO3vZ__6RIpMvSlY1NDNsugPnl6s8Hgv9ZwGc_JxS5IqCElArN7odmGEktNQCR8Y-3fLv3sjs4ggdOs_llQT4Ea0eCvwRJAK-TjRBLe_chtvgEn-1wWgjmrH6eBX1ZDaA/s1600/516.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#330000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458917386490460242" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzE6cqPI_GhuO3vZ__6RIpMvSlY1NDNsugPnl6s8Hgv9ZwGc_JxS5IqCElArN7odmGEktNQCR8Y-3fLv3sjs4ggdOs_llQT4Ea0eCvwRJAK-TjRBLe_chtvgEn-1wWgjmrH6eBX1ZDaA/s400/516.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><span style="color:#330000;"><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfz2Xu4h7U19T0jV7sDNzfqcs-TrzVZSKSVLU9LQCUVyvKvd7FbbGmCm3XU6ZKUcpBLJhOWTArq9pyGEHQRj8YsrNsVTe8d42_5Hx2Zcx2DsjXBao0-9r0piyOPok9vfap_smPdn_FIw/s1600/517.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#330000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458917461131154594" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfz2Xu4h7U19T0jV7sDNzfqcs-TrzVZSKSVLU9LQCUVyvKvd7FbbGmCm3XU6ZKUcpBLJhOWTArq9pyGEHQRj8YsrNsVTe8d42_5Hx2Zcx2DsjXBao0-9r0piyOPok9vfap_smPdn_FIw/s400/517.jpg" /></span></a><span style="color:#330000;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8USp-EajXTr6C9Axn4zhO6V6oD0bpR8jkvkY9odhWgYfXeqTn7bW_XkNE02SlDo5NFaYrEHLfXAH9tkesPza383GO9rDs3cOJ4Pk-ioEASHk7eU_HOCMPe6S0tOv1uQRt1CZZosAxZA/s1600/522.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#330000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458917795147106610" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8USp-EajXTr6C9Axn4zhO6V6oD0bpR8jkvkY9odhWgYfXeqTn7bW_XkNE02SlDo5NFaYrEHLfXAH9tkesPza383GO9rDs3cOJ4Pk-ioEASHk7eU_HOCMPe6S0tOv1uQRt1CZZosAxZA/s400/522.jpg" /></span></a><span style="color:#330000;"><span style="font-size:130%;"> As we continued on up the river road, we passed several other small falls and pools, until we arrived at the end of the road where the largest waterfall emptied into a big open pool, just waiting for someone to dive into it. We don’t know what becomes of the river above that waterfall and if there are more falls above. We were at the end of the road and going any higher would require a pretty good hike, which we may attempt later. The pools looked so inviting, but unfortunately, we did not come prepared to swim that day and weren’t even sure if we were allowed to. After a session of sightseeing and picture-taking we went on down and asked the men in the little fale if swimming was permitted. They said it was, and so I expect we’ll give it a try on another one of our P-day excursions.<br /></span><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEief56gj_tcFLA_Vd8lJIyOtMZX8FdGHiHDe-KwSvS5EUn0YZuz-WDwxIwCV8GmbAD1Uk8r-RG6bu6OJQ-Wju7ZFQ3J44PnjtgS8y7cB3wts9dpzD1h9Byfl5ssMzV5Gnu05RO1XJVrEA/s1600/526.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#330000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458917869898734018" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEief56gj_tcFLA_Vd8lJIyOtMZX8FdGHiHDe-KwSvS5EUn0YZuz-WDwxIwCV8GmbAD1Uk8r-RG6bu6OJQ-Wju7ZFQ3J44PnjtgS8y7cB3wts9dpzD1h9Byfl5ssMzV5Gnu05RO1XJVrEA/s400/526.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#330000;"> One of our favorite places for a P-day is at Aganoa Beach, where the snorkeling is just wonderful. Some of the places we’ve been, we have to get way out past the shore to find coral and other things to see. At this beach, once you’re in the water, you can swim about 15 ft from the shore and start to see the coral surrounded by all kinds of fish, starfish, sea cucumbers, etc. in just two to four feet of water, depending on the tide. If you guys are able to make the trip down here next year at the end of our mission, this is one of the first places we’ll bring you. We’ve actually talked about us all staying here for a couple of days in the little beach fales right along the beach. They’re open to the ocean and there are convenient bathrooms and showers right close by. There’s also a restaurant overlooking the ocean, where I took pictures of Elder and Sister Montgomery after we had finished snorkeling that day and we were waiting for our dinner to be served in the dining room.</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAGzmwkMEO-FUK9IwLr0oAvbx_XFmEivjlW0trjBWT9netXE56rRAWc5SOox2ii0NHwNhyk42EOhrS7R9FvJlCK-Qu1HGvnTUMgFuMDDZQAC9N67pgrXC_1xAxpBq8ow353jzcLwT1xQ/s1600/530.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#330000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458922685471730386" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAGzmwkMEO-FUK9IwLr0oAvbx_XFmEivjlW0trjBWT9netXE56rRAWc5SOox2ii0NHwNhyk42EOhrS7R9FvJlCK-Qu1HGvnTUMgFuMDDZQAC9N67pgrXC_1xAxpBq8ow353jzcLwT1xQ/s400/530.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><span style="color:#330000;"><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXkvUQnLLJ2XS9GjJJnoCz_HNy9f9uSG5yqbokRBFkPaiuPt2LEEQNQ35ODaRf2OBCqtvhVb1ShxYCZ1OYYJxYsZGOpjS1jWn60G5Pu-hwIHf7vwqdIIAEVoN0hGFObtS-MZidNjVP0A/s1600/533.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#330000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458918039108141586" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXkvUQnLLJ2XS9GjJJnoCz_HNy9f9uSG5yqbokRBFkPaiuPt2LEEQNQ35ODaRf2OBCqtvhVb1ShxYCZ1OYYJxYsZGOpjS1jWn60G5Pu-hwIHf7vwqdIIAEVoN0hGFObtS-MZidNjVP0A/s400/533.jpg" /></span></a><span style="color:#330000;"><span style="font-size:130%;"> The sun was just setting at the time, so naturally I had to get some shots of that spectacle. We’ve been here several times and will continue to come often because it’s only about a 20-30 minute drive, depending on how big a hurry we’re in.<br /><br />We had another eye-opening experience last week before we went to Apia. We had received a quick call from Kelly telling us we needed to somehow give her permission to make reservations on our timeshares. She has full financial power of attorney, but since reservations were not mentioned in that document, we had to sign some more papers. We were at the internet café when we finally got her on skype while she had the timeshare company on the phone, but they would not accept us telling them over the phone to give Kelly authority. John made a quick run to the bank down the street to see if they had a fax machine and a notary, got the fax number and was told they could notarize it. We had Kelly fax the form to them and we went back over to the bank, where the form had arrived, and proceeded to sign it in front of the fellow who we thought was a notary. After we signed it, he didn’t seem to know what to do. We just showed him where he had to indicate his commission date, sign it and stamp it. He got a stamp out of the drawer and was starting to fix the date on the stamp when we realized that it wasn’t a notary seal and stamp. When we started asking specific questions as to whether or not he was a notary, he didn’t seem to have a clue what we were talking about. I don’t know what he thought John said when he asked him the first time. We tried to explain what a notary does and so he called his boss over in Apia (this is probably one of the largest businesses in Samoa and certainly the largest bank) but the boss said that they couldn’t notarize it either. The bank charged us $10 ST each for the two sheets they had received on their fax machine, about $8.00 U.S. total. We went back to the internet café, skyped Kelly and had her call the timeshare company and explain that we were in a very tiny country out in the middle of the Pacific Ocean that didn’t do things the way they do in the U.S. We asked if maybe they would at least accept the faxed sheet with our signatures, the banker’s signature and their date stamp with their name on it to prove that we really signed it. They wouldn’t do it, but were willing to let Kelly make one reservation that day because they had heard us on the phone. Well, she wasn’t ready to make the reservations yet because we were going to let Michaila and Isaac use the timeshares for their honeymoons this summer and she hadn’t coordinated anything with them until she had the authority to make reservations. Well, we gave up on that and told Kelly that we were going over to Apia the next week and would try to get it done over there. Later in the week we found out from our minister friend that attorneys are the only ones who can notarize papers, and there probably wasn’t one on this island, so we just waited until we got to Apia.<br /><br />Once we landed in Apia and went over to the Church school and mission home, we asked around at the Service Center, where they do all the business for the Church, and they told us there was an attorney in one of the local wards and how to find him. We called the attorney’s office and got some instructions, because they don’t really use addresses much over here (sounds kind of like Costa Rica, huh Macae?). Unfortunately, John didn’t understand the instructions as well as he thought and we ended up downtown asking a policeman (they do have those in Apia) to talk to the attorney’s secretary on the phone to clarify the instructions. He sent us quite a bit further back the other direction to another building we couldn’t find, so we called the attorney’s office again and were finally close enough to make our way to their office. When we got inside, we showed the secretary the papers, she looked them over and then asked us to sit and wait and she’d take them in to the attorney. We waited for a while and then she came out and apologized because she didn’t realize that her boss was not a notary. She made a couple of phone calls and sent us on another treasure hunt to another attorney’s office way beyond the parking lot, a left turn, down the alley, and it was on the second floor of that building. We actually went straight to it, even though we were wondering along the way if it was another wild goose chase. Once we got in there they had us sit and wait again, and when we finally got in to see the attorney, he was indeed a notary and was able to take care of notarizing the papers for us. Halleluiah!! Once that was finally done, we didn’t really care what it was going to cost. It was only $50 ST (about $20 U.S.) and they didn’t charge us a penny to fax them back to the States. Halleluiah Again!!! All in all we probably spent a half day in Savai’i on this problem and another half day in Apia, but we learned a lot, as usual.<br /><br />We had three very busy days in Apia and after taking the ferry back across to Savai’i had another couple of heavy days ahead. As soon as we got off the ferry about 5:30 p.m., we had to race home, unload a very loaded car, grab a quick bite to eat and meet some kids at the church at 7:00 to help with English homework. We were scheduled to have a district meeting at our house the next morning and had invited 12 elders to stay for lunch after. At the time we asked them for lunch, we didn’t really think about the challenge of fixing that much food in our little tiny kitchen, with our four pans, four plates, four cups, four forks, four knives, three spoons, etc. Also, we got all of the vegetables ready the night before, after the homework session, and realized that by the time we loaded all the food we had brought back from Apia into our tiny refrigerator, there’d be no room for lunch prep food the next morning. Fortunately we keep a nice big Styrofoam cooler that we had filled with ice bottles to bring food back from Apia in, and we were able to keep a lot of that food in the cooler until after the lunch was over the next day.<br /><br />We were also planning to make a cold punch, but realized we had no ice and didn’t want to use all our precious cold bottled water from the cooler to quench the dry throats of 12 thirsty elders and we certainly wouldn’t have room in the fridge for two half-gallon pitchers of water for cold punch. (you also can’t just go anywhere and buy a bag of ice around here. Nowhere, in fact.) So our solution to the ice problem, was to fill four empty plastic ice cream cartons (measuring about 8”x 8” x 4”) and put them in the freezer over night. Now that doesn’t sound too hard until you realize that you have to boil any water that you drink or make ice with, and that would mean putting four cartons of very hot water directly into the freezer, if we wanted ice the next morning. So we boiled the water, in a nifty little automatic teapot that has about 1-1/2 quarts of water boiling in about two minutes. We did that four times, filled the sink with cold water and let the cartons of boiled water sit in the sink until that water got warm, and then filled the sink with cold water again. We had to do that about three times before the cartons were cooled enough to put into the freezer before we went to bed. That may sound like a waste of water, but we don’t pay for water and there is an unlimited supply falling out of the sky almost every day or two around here, held in big cisterns to use in the house. Not pure water, of course, but good enough for showers, dishwashing and filling teapots. Our hot water for the shower and the kitchen sink is heated by propane canisters, which are rather pricey to refill, so we only use it for showers. When we do dishes, we just fill the teapot, turn it on for a couple of minutes and add boiling water to the cold soapy water we have in the dishpan and we’re ready to go. Talk about pioneers huh? My three favorite appliances are the teapot, the microwave, and the slow cooker we just bought in Apia last week. We have a nice little apartment-sized gas stove, but not only does is cost a lot for the gas, but it heats up the apartment when we use it, so we do most of our cooking in the microwave, and now the slow cooker. We don’t have to pay for the electricity so it saves money that way too. We had to pay through the nose for those little appliances, but they’ve been well worth the price in convenience, a cooler apartment, and saving money in other ways. The slow cooker will be great when we have to be gone a lot during the day and can have dinner ready when we get home. We used it the first time the night we were fixing lunch for the elders. We put chicken legs in to stew right when we went to bed, and they were ready to bone out for our stir-fry for lunch the next day. We were able to make the stir-fry work in the slow cooker and the one big pan we own, but didn’t have anything to cook the rice in, so we borrowed a big pot from the hotel.<br /><br />On top of everything else we had to do to be ready for that lunch, we were in charge of the lesson for that meeting. I’m not sure how we got ourselves into that much trouble, but we did nevertheless. We kind of did a cop-out lesson though. We talked about music to go with the missionary lessons and asked each companionship to find a song to sing to go with a specific lesson. I taught a quick conducting demonstration, using chalk to draw the conducting patterns on our painted wall, and then turned the time over to John and the elders to finish the lesson, while I put the finishing touches on lunch. Once all the elders had sung their songs and the lesson was over, and the elders did their weekly reporting on all their visits, etc., lunch was pretty well ready. It all seemed to work out just fine. The sesame-chicken stir-fry was actually pretty good, in spite of the rice being a little sticky, and made a pretty good one-dish meal. We had found a big carton of Tang over in Apia and added fresh lemon and lime juice to the cold water and ice out of the ice cream cartons in the freezer and went through almost three gallons of punch. We were going to serve them ice cream, but there was absolutely no room in our freezer, so we splurged and took them over to the hotel veranda for a bowl of ice cream and a view of the ocean. It actually only cost us about $65 ST ($25 U.S.) for 13 of us and we didn’t have to buy ice cream, paper bowls, spoons and napkins ourselves. It was a nice finish for our district meeting and lunch. We ended up with an odd number of elders, because the zone leader had a newly baptized young man with him, who had just joined the church and was disowned by his parents for doing it. He’s about 20 years old and is now staying with a member family and the elders keep him busy doing missionary work with them. He’s dressed in a nice white shirt and tie and is wearing a 2nd missionary badge from one of the elders. He just loves the elders and what they do and really wants to go on a mission himself. At the end of the meeting, he bore his testimony and hopes his parents will someday understand why he joined the church and be willing to take him back into the family. I was really touched by his strong spirit.</span><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCsqgZgJcmo3aMxJEoDQZASajr64cy8OKXJxqWndKxMW4rPIwjYPZu2zyGyQj6lGgwjDDh2lhyphenhyphenH7HhojRh7HwBZsEJjAwQg65qO0R5ojoCqOXNn8qDQCMCE7Ulbzz3Y8PAwOxg_YVkbw/s1600/549.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#330000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458918092770974594" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCsqgZgJcmo3aMxJEoDQZASajr64cy8OKXJxqWndKxMW4rPIwjYPZu2zyGyQj6lGgwjDDh2lhyphenhyphenH7HhojRh7HwBZsEJjAwQg65qO0R5ojoCqOXNn8qDQCMCE7Ulbzz3Y8PAwOxg_YVkbw/s400/549.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><span style="color:#330000;"><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn_tEWCFH81s_qhbS6ase-k17QtZepJEObEEnIzafRpiRNiuztdDBVQ9eJQ_LuzlxaG7Yi-VyL7HxK5A4Utlr8x4mg4wqT1PYDdq7q5wyuX0p8UFl1hAqrQ8X6lJutv7KIO72B9y_VfA/s1600/550.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#330000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458918168991428114" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn_tEWCFH81s_qhbS6ase-k17QtZepJEObEEnIzafRpiRNiuztdDBVQ9eJQ_LuzlxaG7Yi-VyL7HxK5A4Utlr8x4mg4wqT1PYDdq7q5wyuX0p8UFl1hAqrQ8X6lJutv7KIO72B9y_VfA/s400/550.jpg" /></span></a><span style="color:#330000;"><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span><br /></span><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_NbC_hhz8tgxtGiAA2_-y3JqewUGIIkogF7r7vEoW6TjRV_AGOorJsy2QUHbYK7pYi3QGkAUV5kZZvtn6ixN3lPAVg0woP-9OB4UoULNVfyjVbhITUi5MiJz_xG282E6SotgSgze7PQ/s1600/556.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#330000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458918230971378034" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_NbC_hhz8tgxtGiAA2_-y3JqewUGIIkogF7r7vEoW6TjRV_AGOorJsy2QUHbYK7pYi3QGkAUV5kZZvtn6ixN3lPAVg0woP-9OB4UoULNVfyjVbhITUi5MiJz_xG282E6SotgSgze7PQ/s400/556.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#330000;"> Waiting for ice cream at the hotel. </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsp1G4DjfVm3h1lURRAcreOuc0BoXixcz-IiWozc08m34KEfVqPRdnsjLTxWPhoAaEoSPb1eRR-1BZd_7t0cQBvWoA72JiyWZBRyFZxHq3CspMtriW_bvNyrqVh1aet-LnhgQAJI_Bhg/s1600/558.jpg"><span style="color:#330000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 299px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458928273616540114" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsp1G4DjfVm3h1lURRAcreOuc0BoXixcz-IiWozc08m34KEfVqPRdnsjLTxWPhoAaEoSPb1eRR-1BZd_7t0cQBvWoA72JiyWZBRyFZxHq3CspMtriW_bvNyrqVh1aet-LnhgQAJI_Bhg/s400/558.jpg" /></span></a></span><span style="color:#330000;"> </span><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#330000;">Still waiting for ice cream! </span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#330000;"></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></div></span><div align="center"><span style="color:#330000;"></span></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv5O0A-y0Bk9EUsMMJNNKGe5Sm9CHYIaHTaZ4EZEbpB_R81yhpl7O7MV1G88WqDU-tjr0VBJB2jUT2lJrXh1jpleniKjPe_naFcbCr2yONGmALzD6M1qm0av9SgLLj1eqTULMEDNAy1w/s1600/568.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#330000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458918388259788834" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv5O0A-y0Bk9EUsMMJNNKGe5Sm9CHYIaHTaZ4EZEbpB_R81yhpl7O7MV1G88WqDU-tjr0VBJB2jUT2lJrXh1jpleniKjPe_naFcbCr2yONGmALzD6M1qm0av9SgLLj1eqTULMEDNAy1w/s400/568.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#330000;"> It was a great day, but I told the zone leader after that if we fixed lunch again for them, we’d better do it in one of the local ward kitchens where they have dishes, pots and pans, a nice stove and a large refrigerator. It turned out really well at home, but not without a lot of blood, sweat and tears and very little sleep on our part. Once the elders left about 1:00 p.m., we still had to clean up all the pots, pans and silverware, find places in the fridge and freezer for leftovers and the food that was still in the Styrofoam cooler, return the borrowed pot and some chairs to the hotel and then crash for a little while until our 5:00 p.m. English class. Gratefully, we had leftover stir-fry for dinner and went to bed early, because the next morning we had appointments to go on splits with two ward missionaries to visit several inactive members. (‘Splits’ is a word used by missionaries, who always work with a companion. Sometimes they trade companions for awhile and call that splits. Other times they split up and each work with a non-missionary member. On our splits, John went with the Ward Mission leader and I was going to go with a young woman, a ward missionary, who looks to be about 22 and thankfully speaks pretty good English. Unfortunately, she called the night before to let me know that she was going to have to go to the doctor that morning, but she would call me when she was finished and we could go then. I figured I’d just go to the church and wait there until she got there.<br /><br />When we got to the church the next morning, John’s companion wasn’t there either. We called him on his cell phone and he was on his way but was walking and lived a long way from the church. John left me at the church to wait for my companion and took the car to pick up his. They just went on to their visits and I found a comfortable place in the church to kill time until I heard from my companion. I found the Relief Society room open, and it was the perfect place to wait. It has louvred windows on 3 sides and four ceiling fans in the room. Also, there is a keyboard piano in there, so I spent some of my time working on some music I’ve been writing. I had my laptop, so the rest of the time I spent working on this blog entry. John came back after about two hours and I still hadn’t heard from Lotu (my comp.) We called her on her cell and found she still hadn’t finished with the doctor, so we made plans to go the next morning.<br /><br />JOHN: I went with a young man named Fatu to visit some inactive members. We found some people who said they just stopped coming to meetings because they lived too far away; one lady said she married a man of another faith and he insisted they go to his church; some quit coming because they smoked and felt that made them unworthy, etc.--probably the same reasons we might hear back home. We did meet one young mother who said she would like to come to church with us, and we told her we would come by and pick her up Sunday morning, which we did. We’re not even sure she is a member, but we will go back to talk to her later. (it turns out she is a member and not only went to church with us that first day, but went to conference with us the next week. It’s nice to have a little success story. Now if only we could interest her non-member husband).<br /><br />That same Sunday I gave one of the talks in that ward, and I told the story from the Pearl of Great Price about Moses’ confrontation with Satan and how he cast Satan out. I told how the scripture tells that Moses wrote the story, but that because of wickedness it was not had among the children of men. Then I asked what that wickedness was, and then answered it by referring to Nephi’s vision about the plain and precious things that would be taken out of the Jewish record (bible). I pointed out that Moses wrote the first 5 books of the old testament, but this story is not found there. It’s obvious that Moses didn’t forget to write it and that undoubtedly it was Satan who inspired some early compiler of the history to delete that story telling about how he was beaten by a mere man, Moses. I mentioned several other plain and precious doctrines that are not clear in the bible, but are very clear in the Book of Mormon.<br /><br />KAREN: John did really well on his talk. Even though I couldn’t understand most of the language, I knew what it was about and picked up familiar words here and there. He was so well prepared, as he always is when he speaks in church, that he hardly had to look at his notes. The congregation seemed enthralled as he was talking, and many congratulated him after the meeting. I wish I was a better companion for him. He has to carry a big part of the load for both of us and keep translating for me. He’s very patient though, as you all know. He’s had several opportunities to go with elders to visit some of their investigators (without me) and had a wonderful time. One day we arranged splits with one set of elders. I went to the church with one elder to give a lesson to a young woman who is being baptized next week, and John went out proscelyting on foot with the other elder. They trudged around in the heat, got rained on, were told NO several times and YES a couple of times. He just loved it. Unfortunately our appointment with the young lady fell through. She had apparently tried to call the elders the night before, but called after they’d gone to bed. He didn’t recognize the number when he saw it the next morning because she’d called on someone else’s phone, and she didn’t leave a message. So my first split with an elder was a bust. We had plenty to do that day though, because we had an appointment with both elders that night to do a family home evening with an inactive single mother and her kids. The elder had found out that another of their investigators had lost his mother that morning and that at least one of the elders with a companion needed to show up at the memorial that night, at the same time as our family home evening visit. So we contacted another set of elders at the other end of the zone to come and go on splits with them. Since I had the car that day, the elder and I took a trip on around the island to pick up the other set of elders. One of these elders went with us to the family home evening and the other went with our elder’s companion to the memorial. So I played chauffeur for a good part of the day. I find those practical things are what I seem to be best at on this mission—things like missionary haircuts, dispensing meds for the elders, English homework, food for the elders, not to mention keeping my own elder fed and dressed in clean clothes. I have been compared to Martha, of Mary and Martha fame in the bible, because I’m the one always worrying about keeping people fed and cared for, instead of cultivating my own spiritual nature. One conference talk this week was just for me, when he said that Martha was much misjudged and probably showed the most faith after her brother Lazurus had died and she was sure the Savior could have kept him alive. Maybe the Marthas are okay after all. People must be cared for and fed, taught to speak English, chauffeured to important places, have their hair cut and their laundry done. Maybe that’s what my mission is about, so that John can be here and supported in his mission and….. maybe that’s okay.<br /><br />Actually, I’m going to slip in another little laundry story here, since I’m a Martha and we’re talking about practical things. You thought I was all through with Laundry Tales, didn’t you? NOT!!! When we moved here to the little house on the hotel grounds, we were given permission to use the laundry room in another little building about 20 ft away from our house. The washer works fine and so does the dryer, or I should say “so did the dryer”. We only used the dryer about once a week to do John’s white shirts, so that I don’t have to iron them. They charge extra to use the dryer, so I usually hang most of our clothes. He goes through 7 or 8 shirts a week, so that’s a big deal. The only problem is that we kind of have to work our schedule around the hotel laundress’s schedule, because she does laundry for the hotel every day and has the key to the laundry room. At first we were able to work with her and get things done, but she seems to be making it harder and harder for us. We think that she feels we are trespassing on her domain, and she’s going to let us know who’s boss. She doesn’t speak much English, so I have to let John deal with her. He thinks she speaks more English than she’s letting on. She’s supposed to let us know when the washer is free, but doesn’t always do it and then ends up going home and taking the key. We’ve asked the manager if we could get our own key, but they said they’d try to find one for us as soon as they could. We didn’t want to bug them about it, but it finally got so that we had practically no clean underwear left. When we asked about it again, they said that the laundress had lost her key, the only key, and now they were having to take a screw driver to the hasp each time someone wanted to get in. I think they must have given her a bad time about it, because she was even more of a grouch after that. Knowing we were on our way over to Apia, we suggested that we’d buy a new lock with three keys, but they were sure they’d find theirs. Well, by the time we got back, they were still taking the hasp off with a screw-driver, so we decided that we’d just wait until after Tupe, the laundress, left for the day and we’d use our screw driver and get in to do our washing. Unfortunately, we had an English class that kept us until after dark, so we used our little lantern (part of our survival stuff for power outages) to open the hasp and get in. When we got in, we couldn’t find the light switch, but the lantern was enough to get the laundry going. When I went back to move the shirts to the dryer, I couldn’t get it to work this time. John checked the circuit breaker, but couldn’t get it to flip on and stay on. So we pulled the shirts out of the dryer and hung them on hangers, hoping the dryer would be fixed and I could get in the next day and stick them in with a wet towel so I wouldn‘t have to iron them. Just as we were trying to screw the hasp back in place, the night watchman came by to see what was going on. His wife, who works at the hotel, was with him and told him we were okay. When we asked her about the dryer, she stepped in, moved a cupboard forward a little and turned the light on (aha, so that’s where they hide the lightswitch). She tried to flip the breaker too, but had no luck, so we just gave up. Once they were gone and we were screwing the hasp on one last time, another car’s headlights flashed on us and someone asked if we were okay. It was another woman who works for the hotel and her husband had just come to pick her up and they wondered what was going on at the laundry house that time of night. When she saw it was us, she just wished us good night and left us to finish the job. The first thing John did the next morning was go into town and gratefully found a new lock with three keys. We took them over to the owner, got the key that they had finally found, unlocked the old lock, took it back over to the hotel, picked up the new lock and our own key, and now we can get into the washhouse whenever we want, as long as Tupe is finished and gone home, that is. The only problem is that the dryer still doesn’t work, but we thought we’d wait a few days to ask about it again. So, I’ve started ironing shirts again for awhile. John insists I don’t need to, but they do come out of the washer pretty wrinkled. I just do one per day, though, and hope the dryer problem will be resolved soon. They certainly need it for the hotel laundry, especially when it rains and they can’t use the clotheslines. I don’t know if I told you this before, but we don’t use the hotel clotheslines, because we never know when it’s going to rain and we’re gone a lot and wouldn’t be home to rescue the clothes in a storm. When we set up our bedroom, we walled off one end with a big curtain and put up clotheslines behind it, and that’s where our clothes get dried that don’t go into the dryer. (what dryer??) We’re actually on better terms now with Tupe. We just kind of stay out of her way while she’s here working and we’ve given her a ride home a few times and kept her from a long walk in the sun. It also turns out that one of her nieces is taking our English class in Fusi.<br /><br />Just one other little note about something John is doing that he just couldn’t leave behind in Wallsburg. He has planted a tiny little garden behind our house. At first he planted tomatoes, peppers and cucumbers. They were all doing pretty well, until one morning he went out and found the tomatoes and peppers gone. Apparently the chickens who run loose all over the neighborhood had scratched them out. They apparently didn’t care for the cucumbers, so they were okay. The next day we went to the hardware store and picked up some wire mesh to protect the new tomato and pepper plants.</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl-eb80dufBzkwXLzV7iTWM8j2HXcu5YBfE4f-oMKZBpcmVuRZyBdnCtZjDydZh97GCvZfod5QCXhQCWu9rMKR213aeUItf86BJqW7lyzu7J0nkoz6WAy11NvygIVmGGWtC2cQ7RX5iw/s1600/591.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#330000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458918726256973618" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl-eb80dufBzkwXLzV7iTWM8j2HXcu5YBfE4f-oMKZBpcmVuRZyBdnCtZjDydZh97GCvZfod5QCXhQCWu9rMKR213aeUItf86BJqW7lyzu7J0nkoz6WAy11NvygIVmGGWtC2cQ7RX5iw/s400/591.jpg" /></span></a><span style="color:#330000;"><span style="font-size:130%;"> As usual, everyday John goes out and weeds and talks to his plants in his 12 sq. ft. garden. He’s determined to have some tomato sandwiches before we leave here.<br /><br />JOHN: The other day the Zone leader called and asked if I would go with him and his companion to visit a remote village on this island called Tafua where the elders have been forbidden to teach for years. We went there, and had a member of our church go in ahead to a chief to ask for a meeting with all the chiefs. We were told that he refused to make a decision by himself, so we went to the pulenuu (mayor) who met with us and said he would help us get an audience with the chiefs. A date was set, and we went in for a visit. There were three of us palagi (white) elders and about 20 chiefs, including the pulenuu. After the usual introductions we told them we would like to teach their children English, especially the pre-schoolers. We said nothing about visiting families for a gospel message. They were very quick to say that they already had two teachers, the local ministers who were there in the meeting, and that they didn’t need any more. I explained that we were very good teachers, and that it would be free, and that we were doing it very successfully in two other villages. I felt like saying that I know how poor the English is of the local school teachers, and how we had encountered many examples of their incompetence in the homework assignments we read each week, and how they were giving up a great opportunity for their children, etc., but I held my tongue. The district leader, Elder Mangakahia told them how disappointed he was in their narrow-minded decision, and we left. He also reminded them that it is against the law to restrict religion in any way in a Samoan village. We left, happy to still be alive, but greatly disappointed for the village, and for the members of our church who live there.</span><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8Xl27LWzEWqZhPjGjsOb7DK5d1b5p4BlkCQnt8vWazp-mkGK3Rtb_vsnZgArN165vilXZYV0HrGj5J5M8KEg7_CPBvYCFzPMgwDcRicov0lXoIzib4tJsi3SXQgDcGcHbePsK0p9fzA/s1600/574.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#330000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458918464476702866" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8Xl27LWzEWqZhPjGjsOb7DK5d1b5p4BlkCQnt8vWazp-mkGK3Rtb_vsnZgArN165vilXZYV0HrGj5J5M8KEg7_CPBvYCFzPMgwDcRicov0lXoIzib4tJsi3SXQgDcGcHbePsK0p9fzA/s400/574.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><span style="color:#330000;"><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkUZtSedaJRcjU4KvSQj6qYWdxIC4cDN-2S3Nn6h5gc3rSYopPY-T46htbXnLRBtMEK0WTmw2LFsOeoz1d92kFXIEo6A86MSXG4GDaGHyuoE91CLzNhRyDeyf75HU_afPh9AbCtzawrw/s1600/583.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#330000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458918535009330546" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkUZtSedaJRcjU4KvSQj6qYWdxIC4cDN-2S3Nn6h5gc3rSYopPY-T46htbXnLRBtMEK0WTmw2LFsOeoz1d92kFXIEo6A86MSXG4GDaGHyuoE91CLzNhRyDeyf75HU_afPh9AbCtzawrw/s400/583.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><span style="color:#330000;"><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJrCzYK1Q6H50hUQntkxmhoDpvxU0cOkihqf41ucr8HD8fe7sFVdQ9URIVksfoH-iYo-kAUMrvgn-8I_IXX2TR_yq5VNm-mv8EG6WHqVK85KTp8ti7e6XCS1VJ-y-LdMPmYWzwBSh7MQ/s1600/586.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#330000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458918652035891330" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJrCzYK1Q6H50hUQntkxmhoDpvxU0cOkihqf41ucr8HD8fe7sFVdQ9URIVksfoH-iYo-kAUMrvgn-8I_IXX2TR_yq5VNm-mv8EG6WHqVK85KTp8ti7e6XCS1VJ-y-LdMPmYWzwBSh7MQ/s400/586.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color:#330000;"> KAREN: You may have noticed in the pictures of the elders in our apartment that we finally have some things finished as far as decorating is concerned. We can’t take any credit for the large turquoise, royal blue, lime green and white curtains. The hotel had those made and hung for us. I like them fine and they actually go fairly well with the light blue paint, and the aqua and light blue floor tile. I knew they were planning to cover the cushions on the wood-frame furniture, but had no idea what to expect, because I was told it was a small print with blue, green and white in it. The decorator in me could envision all sorts of things, after having seen many Samoan fales decorated with several large prints that didn’t necessarily coordinate with each other (not at all to be honest). The Samoans just love a lot of color, as evidenced by the gaily painted houses and fales. The interiors are no different. I decided it didn’t really matter what they put on the cushions. We’ll just be totally fa’aSamoa like everyone else. When the cushions finally came, they were a smaller print than the large one on the windows, they did have a royal blue background with white flowers, but no turquoise and the green leaves were a very yellow green instead of the lime green of the big print and the aqua green on the floor. I’ve been looking around for some other fabric that might tie all of that together, but didn’t have much luck here in Savai’I, so I figured I’d just wait until we went shopping in Apia where there is an unlimited supply of every conceivable tropical print and a multitude of colors. I was sure I could come up with something because everything we had already was pretty much in the blue and green family. Then to complicate matters, we went to visit our LMS minister friend and his wife one evening right before we went to Apia and they presented us with two large Samoan hand-woven mats for our floors. One for the living room and one for the bedroom. They’re both about 6 x 7 ft. The one worked fine in the living room, but the other was too large for the bedroom, because we had made the bedroom much smaller in order to wall off the one end for our laundry-hanging space. There was actually plenty of room in the living room for both mats the way we had the furniture arranged, so that’s where they sit. The problem with finding a fabric to tie the room together was now complicated by the one mat which is decorated all over the tan weaving with a plum-colored crisscross design. That mat is also trimmed around the outside with yarn fringe in bright red, dark green and white. The other mat is just plain tan weaving, but it is surrounded by a bright orange and pink yarn fringe. As you can see in the pictures, these mats sit about three feet apart, but are divided by the wooden sofa. As you can also see in the pictures, I did find one print in Apia that has red, pink, green, blue, turquoise, and several other colors. I figured that as long as we were going fa’aSamoa, we’d go all the way. At least the newer pillows pull the red/orange/pink up from the floor and distribute it around a little. I think I’m done now and can forget any more decorating. In the bedroom, where we have the same large print on the windows, we just added the royal blue curtain to section off the laundry area and that’s going to be it. We were able to find several light blue sheets and assorted blue pillow cases for the bed in the bedroom and the daybed in the living room. There is a place in Apia that has all second-hand stuff, so we saved a bundle on the linens. We’re pretty much all through fixing up and furnishing our apartment. It took quite a bit of time and money at first, but now we can forget about it and go about the business of being missionaries.<br /><br />I’m going to put this blog segment (and me) to bed now. It’s late and we want to get this sent off first thing in the morning when we go up to Vaiola for a skyping session with the family. Hopefully there’ll be no power outages, tsunami threats or Easter Vacations to shut down all the internet on the Island and we’ll actually be able to keep our internet and skyping appointment this time.<br /><br />Thanks for all your interest and emails. We just love hearing from you. It makes us feel closer to home.<br /><br />With love from Elder and Sister Krogh<br /></span></div></span></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>John & Karen Kroghhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08097598934218597824noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7660554378340018126.post-63552722355405797922010-03-15T22:03:00.000-07:002010-05-14T12:58:11.487-07:00<span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;">#6. February 28, 2010<br /><br />KAREN: We had a nice visit with some of the family on the skype while they were all at Kimmy’s for Austin’s farewell luncheon today. So I’m feeling a little lonely this afternoon, but it made me realize that I haven’t made any new blog entries for well over a week. We have been truly busy and I’m grateful for it. I don’t have quite so much time to think of home.<br /><br />We’ve spent a lot of time and effort getting our English class off the ground. The second week, when we went back with the books from the Library and a little more adult help, we actually had a pretty successful class. We divided up the group into four classes: the little kids, who read very little English; the middle school kids, who read fairly well but have a long way to go with comprehension and pronunciation; the high school kids, most of whom read and comprehend quite well; and several adults whose skills run the full gamut but are all very motivated. Besides us, we had help from two elders, and some of the older high school kids helped with the younger elementary kids. We were scheduled to start at 3:30, so we wanted to get there about 3:00 to get everything set up, only to find most of them there already. After a little organized chaos, we got started focusing on the little kids for an hour and it went quite well. The older high school kids did really well teaching alongside us and we were grateful for them. After about an hour and 15 minutes, we invited the younger ones to head home and switched our focus to the older kids. We had about 5 classes going, with each of us guiding the small groups reading stories we’d picked up at the library on several different levels, and everyone seemed to enjoy it. We weren’t quite sure what to do for the adults, but most of them enjoyed taking turns reading out loud from some of those mid-range school books. They liked the stories and with a little help from a dictionary were able to understand all that was read. We feel strongly about helping the adult parents, because we picked up some really great books and programs from the Church School over in Pesega that really encourage using the parents in team teaching situations, so that they can work with their children at home.<br /><br />Today was our first class using those materials and we were surprised at how the adults really wanted more help with the little mini-grammar lessons we taught before we split up the groups. Fortunately we borrowed 9 copies of the same English grammar book from Pesega and were able to have one for every two or three adults. After sending the other kids off to their reading classes, we taught the adults basic sentence structure, subject and predicate, English sentence word order (which is very backward from Samoan) and then went over several exercises provided in the books that gave them practice in each principle we covered. It was so great to see how hungry they were for a better grasp of English, not only for themselves but for their kids as well; but it was also great to have the tools to help them with. If I had to give an English lesson without these elementary books, I’m not sure what I’d do. I can certainly speak pretty correct English, including the grammar, but had forgotten everything I had ever learned about subjects and predicates, word order, etc. I’m actually relearning quite a bit of it myself. The nice thing about this project for me is that I’m not required to know a lot of Samoan in order to make a contribution. The first month of our mission I felt isolated on the outer fringes because of my poor language skills. Even though this new teaching experience is a challenge, I at least feel it is in the range of possibility for me, considering my slow Samoan. Besides the classes on Sunday, we meet at the church on Wednesday afternoons to help individual high school kids with their English homework, which was our first intention when we got started. Even though we were only supposed to have kids come who needed homework help, there were several younger ones there as well, so one of the mothers took them to another classroom and read them stories so we could have peace and quiet for doing homework. It was so interesting to help with homework, because the kids could read well and work their math problems, but they couldn’t understand what all the words meant in the stories or problems (sort of like me with Samoan). We spent a lot of time with the dictionaries. We won’t be living within the boundaries of that ward when we get moved, but will still keep the class going. When we mentioned to someone in our new ward about the class, they asked if we would start one in their ward. We’ll talk to that bishop this week and maybe get another one started. Now that we know a little of what we’re doing, it doesn’t seem quite so overwhelming.<br /><br />Speaking of moving to our new apartment, we were supposed to move yesterday (Saturday). They told us earlier in the week that Saturday would probably be good…..but…..we might want to check back on Friday to see if they were on schedule. Okay, we’re back to Samoan time again. When we checked on Friday, it was obvious that Saturday wasn’t going to work because they were still not finished with the tile in the living/dining/kitchen area, but all seemed sure that Monday would be just fine. Yesterday, however, we got a call from them saying that they were tearing up the tile that had been just about finished because they found out they had been using the wrong glue, and wouldn’t be able to get any more until Monday morning. So maybe Tuesday, Wednesday or whatever. We finished our shopping for the new place while we were over in Apia last week, so we have piles of stuff sitting around waiting for the move. I guess another few days of stepping over it won’t be that bad.<br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz4dsu8DkbNYVV2UtGvFX4-PGrn3anJwAVKgFNotUiqy5EnBdUXpYxNhNlPoxb9q0HvUTYNN-gj2ZC18OS5CNRBJcyFt8ifPAyyaxZxeWQiHBSjPA8uoS98OIrc8gyXEeD6ZvjOiuYAg/s1600-h/487.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449126894928734306" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz4dsu8DkbNYVV2UtGvFX4-PGrn3anJwAVKgFNotUiqy5EnBdUXpYxNhNlPoxb9q0HvUTYNN-gj2ZC18OS5CNRBJcyFt8ifPAyyaxZxeWQiHBSjPA8uoS98OIrc8gyXEeD6ZvjOiuYAg/s400/487.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;">Besides the English classes, we’ve been helping with the Missionary Training Classes that are being held here in the Stake. Most are being taught in Samoan, so I don’t get much out of them, but required to practice giving lessons in front of the group, the girls outshine the guys big time. They are much more confident and better prepared. We did recognize that the girls are two years older chronologically, and like most girls around the world, they are more mature. We really found that to be true at the MTC in Provo. There’s quite a big gap between the maturity of a 19-year-old boy we’ve been asked to give some demonstrations teaching the lessons in English. Some of the kids in the class have received calls to English speaking missions, and though most of them speak fair English, the instructor felt they would need extra help on the lessons. John will be teaching the lessons and I will be acting as the investigator, much the same as I did when I was volunteering at the MTC before our mission. </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgtOvF3oItoGxxF9s4ceGKoWsUEYmla8JAQVqkjVAhYeKseXk3vY_e1MybGCGnwS2I0Cbns1QIOyzP0nuJpE6FT_hhu_cgclRmMUTmkp2rVi2ali0bJO5WS9_Y1gdz34Fp6jQ3W0MoJw/s1600-h/488.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449097317514153186" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgtOvF3oItoGxxF9s4ceGKoWsUEYmla8JAQVqkjVAhYeKseXk3vY_e1MybGCGnwS2I0Cbns1QIOyzP0nuJpE6FT_hhu_cgclRmMUTmkp2rVi2ali0bJO5WS9_Y1gdz34Fp6jQ3W0MoJw/s400/488.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;">The class is pretty good size and almost half of them are young women. When the trainees are (the age when boys can go on a mission) and a 21-year-old girl (the age the girls need to be). A good many of these kids will likely end up somewhere here in Samoa on their missions. The government restricts the number of foreign palagi (white) missionaries to a small percentage and there are no white female missionaries anymore, because of an attack on some American girls a few years ago. These Samoan missionaries are sharp though, and have great confidence and success. In the three zones on this island there are about 30 missionaries, but only about l/3rd of them are Palagis from America, New Zealand and Australia. Several of the Samoan native missionaries are from the States, where their parents have emigrated, but they are counted among the Samoan percentage.<br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH8AEAiUBjOOvgVSd7sELcNXYZxutKZcO_ZGPVqhNHCRtd8WtYSxsilixcDTjJnXTSuus-ZZFXzjmQaJ48R86pS9qvhCuLb7edRAbjWsSlULgxWrzDMXQg-The-Po2xmmX4T5KeCfqvQ/s1600-h/490.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449097254957336738" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH8AEAiUBjOOvgVSd7sELcNXYZxutKZcO_ZGPVqhNHCRtd8WtYSxsilixcDTjJnXTSuus-ZZFXzjmQaJ48R86pS9qvhCuLb7edRAbjWsSlULgxWrzDMXQg-The-Po2xmmX4T5KeCfqvQ/s400/490.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;">We attended our first baptism this week, and John was asked to be the first speaker. We can’t take any credit for these baptisms at all. The two elders in the picture—Elder Tuioletai on the left and Elder Lavaka on the right—were the elders who taught them and I think they were as excited as the converts were. There was one other convert, a middle-aged gentleman who was rather camera shy, I guess, because he was nowhere around when it was picture-taking time. He’s not really a shy person, though. He’s very outgoing and friendly and the next day, on Sunday after they had all been confirmed in Sacrament meeting, he got up and bore a very powerful testimony about his baptism. Even though we were not part of the conversion process with these four people, we really enjoyed the baptism and what it will mean in the lives of these new members.<br /><br />We’ve been to a couple of Zone meetings this month, but this past week there was a large 3-zone conference at a branch north of us for all the missionaries on this Island. The Mission President, his wife and two assistants came over from Upolo and it was a wonderful conference, where they had presentations prepared for us on different aspects of successful proselyting, teaching with the Spirit, baptismal preparation, etc. Quite a bit of it was in English, and what wasn’t just seemed to come through to me.<br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhiLn9gzgHh_cAdABRB0siO3yV8mfEqfvonFdwMOLZ03yzfsXZV55gDo2g6LzGgJ8pijy2kE9Qens_EuqA_rrNC0DEZ1pSrKy3PO24PB5225URrOfd5PzmxMumSkEVeohZf47jSlDJ8w/s1600-h/471.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449097175445224306" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhiLn9gzgHh_cAdABRB0siO3yV8mfEqfvonFdwMOLZ03yzfsXZV55gDo2g6LzGgJ8pijy2kE9Qens_EuqA_rrNC0DEZ1pSrKy3PO24PB5225URrOfd5PzmxMumSkEVeohZf47jSlDJ8w/s400/471.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;"> </span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4SwvdCXjvNw-QY2wM_-ikXUAQ-a-x1Wwpdtpo-nnB5PIcs-jC1t_aKz_0PLaZM0_ccmfAAFxEcKh6EBAS-yly8cN9_vlpzS10IsFQDFe3dvxx7LozCMT6DkxkSLBc1ej1TiB_pCPKvQ/s1600-h/449.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449097101627730354" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4SwvdCXjvNw-QY2wM_-ikXUAQ-a-x1Wwpdtpo-nnB5PIcs-jC1t_aKz_0PLaZM0_ccmfAAFxEcKh6EBAS-yly8cN9_vlpzS10IsFQDFe3dvxx7LozCMT6DkxkSLBc1ej1TiB_pCPKvQ/s400/449.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;">The meetings were in a lovely little branch house beautifully landscaped, situated among the trees, and up the hill about a mile inland from the coast. The chapel was a completely open structure with a roof and no walls, and several classrooms are in more modern structures all around the perimeter.<br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHC0wmALlzAg57cM2hKdz1edvbjvw6AAh8t1H0jHXxUe9s8dUWkjrhvBDvCs19Ywe_Ekd20KC_d-78DS6PwG4W1tlSuH0GT1Jhii-rMMYIKJFwIEbZIHb9vife5nlwD6ReBcISgziAPQ/s1600-h/446.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449097029352208610" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHC0wmALlzAg57cM2hKdz1edvbjvw6AAh8t1H0jHXxUe9s8dUWkjrhvBDvCs19Ywe_Ekd20KC_d-78DS6PwG4W1tlSuH0GT1Jhii-rMMYIKJFwIEbZIHb9vife5nlwD6ReBcISgziAPQ/s400/446.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;"> </span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrYZwVlmFn-lvhcKawuYDmUddPaVS4yoVtr-iOA-ELjtkVzLP8X6ZCHkgtgTWK480ljGN4QaPu2rZVLZerB2-4LfFSP0wcSMQMGY8NjxI4aaJmp9aMVf618qL_UtI5JdPDn4Y9uWgM-g/s1600-h/447.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449096963206253362" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrYZwVlmFn-lvhcKawuYDmUddPaVS4yoVtr-iOA-ELjtkVzLP8X6ZCHkgtgTWK480ljGN4QaPu2rZVLZerB2-4LfFSP0wcSMQMGY8NjxI4aaJmp9aMVf618qL_UtI5JdPDn4Y9uWgM-g/s400/447.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;">We were fed by the local people, which means there was too much to eat, but all of it really good. Because we were up in the bush and they had little, if any, refrigeration, we were given ice cream and cookies first, before the ice cream melted, and then the lunch of typical Samoan fare: baked chicken, pisupo (corned beef), Palusami (a delicious dish made of coconut cream and onions wrapped in taro leaves and baked long and slow and then scooped up with a piece of breadfruit or taro, m-m-m), scrambled eggs with ham, and a curried chicken stew. To drink, we each had a cold niu (a green coconut opened at the top and sitting on a cup or Styrofoam plate section to hold it up straight). The honored guests were the oldest of us, President and Sister Haleck and us—The Halecks because they are important and us because we are old--so we had nice plates covered with foil, while the younger missionaries had their lunch in typical Styrofoam boxes (like doggie bags at home).<br /><br />In any typical Samoan meal, the guests and adults are served first by the teenagers, who also move around and fan your food, refill your cups and pick up your plates or leaves (or Styrofoam boxes in the case of the Zone Conference). The custom is that you seldom eat all your food, and push it away so that it can be picked up and then the leftovers are fed to the teens and then to the small children, who are kind of kept away until it’s all over. Once the food is removed, the teens bring each person a bowl of water and a small towel to clean up dirty hands after eating, because most of the food is eaten with fingers. The final parts of the ritual are the long and flowery speeches, first from a representative of the guests (in our case that day a young, very vocal native Samoan Missionary, probably destined to become a talking chief) giving thanks for the food, for the multitude of hands that prepared it, Heavenly Father who provided it and the enchanting surroundings, among other things, running anywhere from five to ten minutes long. Then all attending talking chiefs (in our case the local branch president or bishop) give more speeches in response to the guest speech, extolling all the virtues of the guests, the surroundings, the cooks, the Heavens, the earth and everything on it, the sea and every thing under it, etc. and etc. and etc. (this may sound like I’m exaggerating, because you know that I don’t understand Samoan very well, but John has translated for me and I’m really not that far off). That could run another 10 to 20 minutes, depending on how many chose to speak, most always just the men. At this meeting there was a final speech from our missionary representative and then the Mission President, who is part German, I believe, and part Native Samoan, and all in accordance with the local customs. I hope I’m not making this sound as if I’m ridiculing their customs, because I am not. These are just such interesting and different customs that I’m not used to and want to share the experience with all of you .<br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyIAdS3_LgT6TOvhwOMTYopfaFNFlivT80jEdWuOT0q-qbzXbOYwlwtK8EWoS-0YHUPW_1GTOArgNwcpiaEhmPgqVY7f_-bBDUEAplo2F2Fdc-ZBvpz_6X0qNX83r8YLjrJNSOKA0mmg/s1600-h/464.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449096901225193810" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyIAdS3_LgT6TOvhwOMTYopfaFNFlivT80jEdWuOT0q-qbzXbOYwlwtK8EWoS-0YHUPW_1GTOArgNwcpiaEhmPgqVY7f_-bBDUEAplo2F2Fdc-ZBvpz_6X0qNX83r8YLjrJNSOKA0mmg/s400/464.jpg" /></span></a><span style="color:#660000;"> </span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0GoRJy9S4VcbcYXV3wc7pg0-5eenW8ilRyJ394LOrFt8EhyQId-hd92C1EKASnyM7hngnTlUqM-OmYMrV10MHi2r2mmz44SbpgpTVe2Pt8-KyA4y4qhBwTN9oawrjO4zWzkhXmmE9EA/s1600-h/464+plus.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449096815785440466" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0GoRJy9S4VcbcYXV3wc7pg0-5eenW8ilRyJ394LOrFt8EhyQId-hd92C1EKASnyM7hngnTlUqM-OmYMrV10MHi2r2mmz44SbpgpTVe2Pt8-KyA4y4qhBwTN9oawrjO4zWzkhXmmE9EA/s400/464+plus.jpg" /></span></a><span style="color:#660000;"> </span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbX_JG72388ePlipMIJMTJovhbgo5DdO8uJcwmBZgh8DzC13oWYZwj0Rph3-LaChM0ba8S9pi-3ipEkAlnI4-UK9e2oK_5dT1Yl30oVYg0WMku6GL8TlYEG0zIH2sifpe9TRpnCkR6Yw/s1600-h/470.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449096717369890578" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbX_JG72388ePlipMIJMTJovhbgo5DdO8uJcwmBZgh8DzC13oWYZwj0Rph3-LaChM0ba8S9pi-3ipEkAlnI4-UK9e2oK_5dT1Yl30oVYg0WMku6GL8TlYEG0zIH2sifpe9TRpnCkR6Yw/s400/470.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;">After the Zone conference, the meal and the speeches had ended, there was a typical picture-taking activity. Samoans love to have their pictures taken, as do the elders for that matter, and are willing to stand in the hot sun and be photographed any number of times by any and all in attendance with a camera. I guess we are no different when something special happens in our own families<br /><br />A Samoan feast is really quite an event. A member missionary fireside we went to a couple of weeks ago, which ran well over two hours just for the fireside part, served as simple refreshments toast and egg sandwiches, crackers, cookies, some little sort of little deep-fried muffin and, hot Samoan Cocoa, which is standard at most meals, no matter the weather. Samoan cocoa is different, but I’m learning to like it, and don’t even mind that it’s hot. It’s made strictly with water, no milk or cream, and has little tiny chunks of cocoa beans floating in it. After the “refreshments” were served, partially eaten and pushed away, they were collected for the teens who were there serving and for the children there with their parents, and then the usual round of speeches began. I think the whole fireside and refreshments and speeches ran over three hours. It was all actually quite enlightening and entertaining.<br /><br />A couple of weeks ago, I mentioned in one of my blog stories, along with some photos, that most every home has some sort of grave or tomb in the front yard. As John and I were passing one yard on our way to a meeting one day, I noticed a really fancy tomb that I wanted to photograph, but realized I didn’t have the camera with me. I took note of the surroundings so that I could find it again when I was able to take a picture of it. Unfortunately, when we went past it the second time, there was a whole bunch of people working in the front yard and I didn’t want to look like a pesky tourist by taking the picture of their dead ancestor’s tomb with them all standing there.<br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoVePlibISsGzsp1yPoCA3j3c9Kq8TdgTkiIg4El0dHbvP7zEmEJ8LZ-7EqC-K_UcD8AWJjmJBclOX84j4UJhri59Ao5g4Ur1BfMbkgCT1LsGcwi6r4MFuDA66nUlC3NTzilx0yCbP1A/s1600-h/477.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449096542524735330" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoVePlibISsGzsp1yPoCA3j3c9Kq8TdgTkiIg4El0dHbvP7zEmEJ8LZ-7EqC-K_UcD8AWJjmJBclOX84j4UJhri59Ao5g4Ur1BfMbkgCT1LsGcwi6r4MFuDA66nUlC3NTzilx0yCbP1A/s400/477.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;">A week or so later when we were on our way home from snorkeling with Elder and Sister Montgomery, I asked them to slow down by that tomb, because I wanted to get a picture of it. Before I had even finished my request, I noticed that Sister M. had her camera out and the car was slowing down. She had heard about it, and a story to go with it, from someone a few weeks back. The story is that supposedly the tomb belonged to an old gentleman, who had always wanted a nice truck. When his children grew up and moved overseas, they made him a gift of a brand new truck when he was getting pretty old. He was so enthralled with the truck that when he died unexpectedly a few weeks later of a heart attack, the family buried, or entombed, the truck with him. As you look at the right side of the little tomb building which is all decorated, you can see that it is glass enclosed over the grave. The left side, I believe is where the truck is ‘buried’. The Samoans have a great reverence for their ancestors and many of the tombs we’ve seen are all dressed up even more on Sundays.<br /><br />There are other customs that are related to Sunday. Everyone everywhere is cleaning up their yards Friday and Saturday. On Friday, we usually see all of the weed-eaters going to town on the grass, almost always with men performing that job. By Saturday we see the women and children out with their special Samoan brooms sweeping up the grass into piles to be burned. The smoke from those grass fires is part of the problem with air pollution on Saturday night. The other reason for the smoke is that everyone has their cook-houses cranked up and burning in order to get everything prepared for the big Sunday feast, most of which is slow-roasted in their outside wood-burning ovens. You can start to see the smoky air hovering just above the ground late Saturday, and by Sunday morning the whole area looks like a Los Angeles smog. We noticed it the first time when we were over in Pesega the first week we were in Samoa. Once we moved over to Vaiola, it wasn’t quite so bad because we were up in the brush, with few cook-houses close by. Now that we’re in town again, we have the smoke and especially the smoky smell that kept us both awake last night. They roast amazing meals in those little outdoor cookhouses, but we all pay for it with the smoke and smell.<br /><br />JOHN: About 2 weeks ago we joined in an after-meeting Sunday dinner in the village of Fusi. Later we taught an English class there. At the end of this dinner, where all the adults sit around on the floor and each one leans against a pole of the house, it is customary for speeches to be given. The men who are chiefs in the village sit along one edge of the room, the others sit along the sides, and the young people who serve the meal sit along the back. Children are not in the building, but rather are playing out behind the building, until all the adults have eaten, and then they eat the leftovers. This seems unfair, but there is always plenty of food for them. I think it also teaches the kids a degree of respect for their elders that may be missing in our culture. The youth of the villages serve the matais (chiefs), and that is the way they prove themselves worthy to some day be a chief themselves. There is a saying in Samoan, o le ala I le pule, le tautua, which means that service is the way to power. Anyway, at the end of the meal all of the talking chiefs take turns making speeches in which they ask the Lord’s blessings on every one present, and they go on and on, and include references to old sayings, proverbs and an occasional joke. It is really entertaining to listen to them. They use words and phrases that only the most knowledgeable people are aware of plus some things all present can understand (except Karen). I thoroughly enjoy this. Then they asked me to say something, which I did, and then I said my wife will now say a few words. Then I informed Karen she was next to speak. She did an admirable job of saying her thanks and how much she loves the country and the church (some in Samoan, and some in English, which I translated for her). Then an old matai asked if there was anything I wanted, and I jokingly said I’d like a fe’e. Everyone laughed. Then, when we met to eat with that man’s family the following Sunday, I opened the pot in front of me, and there was my fe’e. A nicely prepared octopus, cooked in it’s ink. It was delicious. Karen thought so too, though she admitted to them that this was her first. I asked the man how he got it, and he said he speared it with his speargun just out a little ways from his house.<br /><br />Just a note here about this matai system of local government. This system has survived for centuries, and it is very effective and efficient. Each village has chiefs or matais who govern the affairs of the village. There are high chiefs (alii) and talking chiefs (tulafale). The high chiefs make the final decisions and the talking chiefs do almost all of the talking. Village policies are made and carried out under the rule of these men. They exact punishment and generally maintain order in the villages. It is really amazing how well the system works. You could go all day here without seeing a policeman, because the local leaders keep things under control so well. Young people are very respectful of their parents and older people in particular. To become a matai you must have served the village as a youth very faithfully, and then be elected by the voice of the people. An incompetent matai can also be removed by the people’s voice. Words of respect are used when referring to a matai. A matais house is different from houses of others in the village. There are common words for their head, feet, arms, voice, etc. and even the way they walk, sleep, and think. To use a common word in those cases would be an offense to him. The talking chiefs are phenomenal speakers, putting together speeches using old parables, and legions, and using words that not everyone understands. Because of the way words are formed in this language, they can actually create new words, which makes it very interesting to listen to.<br />KAREN: I will now add my 2 cents worth to that last story. I did not say the octopus was ‘delicious’. I was willing to eat one bite. The taste wasn’t too bad—very fishy--but the look of it in the pan was awful. I will probably be able to eat it again just to be polite, but I won’t request it like John did.<br /><br />The story he told about the earlier meal (sort of like a pot-luck dinner at home where every one brings something and shares it) where we all sat around against the posts of the fale, ate most of the meal with our fingers and then listened to all the talking chiefs give their speeches, was enjoyable, except that my poor old hips don’t sit on the ground very well for very long. It is very impolite to sit with your feet out in front of you, so if you can’t sit Samoan style (sort of like what we might call Indian style) with your legs crossed in front of you, you have to find some other graceful (because you are in a skirt) and comfortable (because you’re 71 years old, and even though you have a brand new hip that is doing just great, it doesn’t flex and bend well enough to sit that way. So… I would bend both my legs to one side with my feet behind me a little, and sit that way for a few minutes, then shift to the other side for awhile. I did try to pull my skirt around me a little and sit with my knees sort of bent in a partial Samoan style squat, but that didn’t last long at all. By the time we had finished our meal and washed our hands in the little bowls of water they brought us, I think my shifting around to get comfortable came to someone’s attention and a teenager was sent to bring me a chair. It was a very welcome change I realized, especially since I would be sitting a lot longer through all the speeches. I wish I knew enough of the language to really understand them, but that will come in time I hope. As our ‘pot luck’ contribution we brought a can of pisupo (corned beef) and a bag of chocolate chip cookies. We had purchased a cookie mix at the store, but the combination of an oven that goes no hotter than 300 degrees and because of that, the cookie dough had time to spread out and become really thin, so the edges were really brown. I wasn’t going to take them because I was embarrassed about how they looked, but John said that they don’t really see homemade cookies much and wouldn’t know the difference. We hadn’t known about this large group dinner and had expected to just have dinner with a family, so I only took about a dozen cookies. By the time the cookies got around to the Bishopric and the other talking chiefs, they were all gone, but they were a hit. Several men asked me to give the recipe to their wives, which really made me laugh and made John say “told you so.” The next week I tried making my old faithful sand cookie recipe, in case we were asked to dinner again. They actually turned out pretty well, in spite of the cooler oven, and were a big hit with the family who invited us to the octopus dinner. We’ve decided that cookies will always be our contribution, because I don’t know how to do anything Samoan yet, and cookies are such an American treat. The only problem with my sand cookie recipe is that I am used to making it with my Bosch mixer, which makes the dough more like sand when you blend the butter, flour and sugar. I had only a fork to do it this time, which took forever, but it actually worked okay. I tried to find a pastry blender at some local stores, but no one knew what I was talking about. When I mentioned it to Sister Montgomery this evening, she said that an earlier missionary couple had left one in her apartment, and she would see that I had it when she leaves in about six weeks. Hooray!! In the meantime, I’ll be blending the cookie dough with a fork.<br /><br />March 2nd: We finally started moving into our new apartment this morning. Once we got the car loaded up the first time in Vaiola and took it down to the house in town, it became apparent that today would just be the beginning of the move. The bed was there in the bedroom and they brought the stove while we were unloading. The privacy curtains for the many windows were not hung yet because even though they had the cord to hang them on, they couldn’t find any hooks to string the cord from. The refrigerator was supposed to be there later in the day. The landlord was working hard trying to fix a leak in the kitchen sink and the shower tile had still not been repaired. This was about 10:30 this morning. We left and went to buy the two propane bottles needed to heat the water and run the stove. After we delivered the bottles, we went back up to Vaiola to pack up the next carload. We were smart enough to leave sufficient clothes and food back at the old place to take care of us overnight in case they weren’t quite ready for us to stay the night. We didn’t bring the food from the fridge, because we weren’t sure the fridge would be there yet. It was there and had been turned on, but they had just finished repairing the tile, which still needed to be grouted, so we couldn’t take a shower until the next day. Also the privacy curtains were not up yet either, so our thoughts of staying back at the old place one more night were right on target. We are pleased with the place though. It is very light and airy and has been done up with light blue and white paint, blue green floor tile, bordered with light blue. When I first saw the tile, I was a little shocked because I thought he had said the tile was a gray-blue. He said it had looked blue in the store, but it certainly was more green than blue. The decorator in me said “piece of cake. We’ll just find some fabric with those colors in it to tie it all together.” I had actually found a piece that I really liked in town, but I didn’t dare buy it until I had seen what colors were in the sofa cushions. The next day he showed me the fabric they’d found for the curtains and they were a large print with both blue and green in it, even though the blues and greens were not quite right. I’m creating a ‘wall’ at one end of the bedroom to divide off a portion of the room to hang wet clothes in. I can’t trust the rain schedule to jive with my missionary and laundry schedule, and I don’t have a laundry room in this house like I did in Vaiola. I had planned to use the print I had found to make that wall/curtain, but after seeing what their print was like, I settled for a very plain kind of royal blue, one of the colors in the print. That takes care of the bedroom. Now, I wonder what the covers are going to be like for the living room furniture, because that same pattern they are using on the bedroom windows will go in the living/kitchen/dining room as well, where there are windows on three sides. I may have some real challenge ahead trying to make it all work, or I’ll just swallow hard and accept that this is Samoa where everyone uses all kinds of patterns and colors together, so we will too. I assume they’ll have the furniture in when we go tomorrow and hope that we can stay when we do, because we will have emptied the old place completely by then. Tune in tomorrow to hear more of the moving saga<br /><br />This is Friday of the same week and we are finally pretty well moved in. When we came back on Wednesday afternoon to unload our last load—all of the food, the last few clothes and bedding—we figured we were there to stay, whether everything was finished or not. The privacy curtains were not up yet, but they were sitting on the bed, so we tucked them in behind the top piece of louvered glass and closed them in. The landlord had finally found the right hooks on Thursday and came and hung them that afternoon. So we have privacy at night, and sun control early in the morning all along the east side, and in the afternoon along the west side. After having hung a zillion window curtains and drapes over the years as a decorator, I must say this system is really quite ingenious. I’m tempted to take some of the special cord and hooks home with me. It’s not cord really, but a long tiny little spring encased in a plastic coating probably about 3/16th of an inch in diameter. The ends are open so that a tiny little eyelet screw can be screwed inside the spring on each end and hooked over a hook at the top of each side of the window trim. The cord or covered coil is cut a little shorter than the width of the window so that when it is strung through the rod pocket and attached, it has to stretch a little and holds the curtain nice and snug against the top casing. Ingenious and simple and very functional—that’s really good design in my book. I’m sure that information just really made your day, but I was so intrigued by it that I had to get it in our journal. Sorry.<br /><br />It’s been a week since that last entry—today is March 12th--and I just have to get this finished and posted.<br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVorM4PpBLKWuGg6c9uqXpxu_WWGWxdfHG2gqsmUH2Dq95bigiauadqDiP3zyoJReMKEZVed2BVRIXzcvPlZTNA1tB2xM7NoNpW4fjUBTbv38tiSlpPbA96kFlRgjSlbVh8krjCPn02Q/s1600-h/508.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449096021658863442" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVorM4PpBLKWuGg6c9uqXpxu_WWGWxdfHG2gqsmUH2Dq95bigiauadqDiP3zyoJReMKEZVed2BVRIXzcvPlZTNA1tB2xM7NoNpW4fjUBTbv38tiSlpPbA96kFlRgjSlbVh8krjCPn02Q/s400/508.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#660000;">We started our second English class in another ward this week and had another nice big group, mostly school age kids this time, with two adults. They do pretty well. There seem to be more English speakers in this ward among both kids and adults. This is the ward we just moved into and it’s just about ¼ mile from our house. Besides the English classes this week, we taught the Mutual kids how to Waltz on Tuesday night, and have been singing with the ward choir who are preparing to perform in Stake Conference this Sunday. The Samoans are very robust singers and it’s a joy to sing with them. Gratefully, we are singing a hymn in English so it becomes very comfortable for me. All instructions are given in Samoan, but it’s not hard to catch on.<br /><br />This will be one last entry before I actually post this segment of the blog. Yesterday, Saturday, we went early to the Fusi Wardhouse, where they were holding Stake Conference this weekend. John had an 8:00am priesthood meeting, so I just tagged along and sat in the car and studied and dozed, and then about 9:00 am the buses started arriving bringing members from all of the other wards in the Stake in order to be there for a 10:00 general meeting. A small percentage of families has cars, so they hire buses to transport whole groups of people from all over the south end of the island for a two hour meeting, which includes speeches and wonderful music. I, of course, understood very little of what was said, but the music was provided by two different choruses from the Vaiola School. Both groups, one from the high school and the other from the primary school, sang their songs in English, so it was a special treat for me. Once the conference was over, all the of members gathered around the grounds and just spent lots of time visiting with each other. Most of them only see each other twice a year at the semi-annual conference so it’s a great time for them. After an hour or so of visiting, the buses started arriving and picking up the groups to take them back home again until the next day, which is today, March 14th, Sunday. After we left yesterday, we headed back home to spend the day doing laundry, preparing for Sunday and then another choir rehearsal last night.<br /><br />This morning, we got up early so that we could arrive at the church for one last rehearsal before we sang in the 9:00 a.m. meeting. I sat with the ladies, all in our white blouses, and John sat with the men, in their white shirts and ties of course. Our song was performed in English, Ere You Left Your Room This Morning, and I really enjoyed joining the other 50-odd singers from our ward in performing that number. The Mission President was in town for the Conference and was speaking, along with his wife, in this session of the conference. A little while before he got up to speak, I noticed him hand a note to a young man who brought it over the John, who was sitting with the men’s section of the choir. I thought that they probably wanted him to come up and bare his testimony as part of the program. When President Haleck got up to speak, the first thing he did was invite John and I up to sit on the stand. I nearly fell off my seat, fearing that he would ask me to talk too. Now, this happens to missionaries quite often, so I have some little notes in my bag where I have jotted down some thoughts in Samoan, for just such an occasion. I realized, however, that the bag was out in the car and I would just have to fend for myself. Fortunately, an earlier speaker, a very recently returned Samoan missionary, who had served in the U.S., had been asked to speak and he could hardly remember his Samoan after preaching in English for two years, so he delivered his speech in English. I figured I’d do the same if I had to. President Haleck introduced his wife, who spoke for a few minutes and then he called us up to stand by him and introduced us to the huge crowd of about 2200 people, and told a little about what our mission was all about. Then he asked John, and John only, to share his testimony and I sat back down with a huge sigh of relief. John’s Samoan is so good that he gave a great speech and had a lot of good feedback about it later. After Conference we had several invitations for lunch, but we had already accepted one at the home of our Bishop, so after a little visiting around the church, we slipped away, had a nice lunch and then went home and had a short nap before we had to turn around and go back to the church for our Sunday afternoon English classes. So it was a long, long day. When we got home, we decided to have pancakes and just as we were sitting down to eat, the power went out. Gratefully, this has happened enough that we had purchased a nice little lantern and were able to have light in no time. The only problem is that the fans shut down too, so the house heated up quite a bit before the lights came back on again. We survived it all just fine and are just about ready to head for bed before we lose our power again. I’m ready to shut this laptop down too and I promise this is the very end of this blog posting.<br /><br />Love to all from Elder and Sister Krogh </span></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>John & Karen Kroghhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08097598934218597824noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7660554378340018126.post-42952388164724089562010-02-19T17:21:00.000-08:002010-02-19T18:02:45.207-08:00<span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">#5 February 11, 2010<br /><br />It’s probably been about a week since we finished the last entry and most of our days are similar to the ones described in the last blog segment. We continue to go to town and shop and just wander around and introduce ourselves to people and chat for a bit. We quite often find other members of the Church working in different places around the towns and villages. We are always very recognizable because of our missionary attire and our nametags, so we get stopped a lot by members who are used to missionaries. John is always in his white shirt, dark pants and tie, but I am able to wear clothes that are a little less institutional looking. I’ve finally finished making some lighter-weight and more colorful clothes (in moderation, that is) and will probably be sending most of the original wardrobe I brought with me back home pretty soon.<br /><br />The temperature varies all the way from about 79-81 degrees, day and night, so it’s all very predictable. At night we may need a sheet over us at times, but seldom. It continues to rain constantly, but we’ve realized it’s not such a problem as long as we have our umbrella with us. When we run in the mornings, it actually feels great to get wet, and we often do. The humidity doesn’t seem to plague us quite so much now. It’s just a fact of life in Samoa we’ve learned to deal with. Our clothes, even clean ones, get smelling slightly of mildew, but after finally finding a supply of Febreze over in Apia, we’ve got that problem licked as well. I do more laundry than usual, as you may have noticed from our earlier blogs, but we’re learning when and how to do it and to accept that we will always have wet clothes hanging in our house. We have a separate laundry room here in Vaiola, but won’t have down in Lalomalava, so there’ll be clotheslines strung in the bedroom and living room I expect. There are clotheslines in the yard there, but we’ll be gone so much from home, we won’t be there to watch for rain and bring the clothes in. We’ll have washer and dryer privileges, but they charge extra for the dryer, so we’ll use it sparingly.<br /><br />As long as we’re talking about laundry again, I might as well get the next installation of “Laundry Tales” out of the way and be done with it. The day after we figured out how to use the machines in the washhouse, a truck drove up to our door and delivered a beautiful brand new washer and dryer. Once they got it unloaded and into the laundry room, they said they’d be back to determine how to vent the dryer. In the mean time, we were free to use the washer whenever we wanted. We noticed a sticker on the lid that cautioned us to use only “high efficiency laundry powder”, which is not what we purchased the first time around. We were warned several times in the instructions to stay away from regular laundry powder because the high suds created problems with rinsing and could damage the machine. When we went into town the next time, we went to every store available and found absolutely no laundry soap anywhere marked ‘high efficiency’. Most merchants had no idea what we were talking about. We finally found one that noted smaller quantities to use for front-loading washers, but didn’t say anything about high efficiency. Since it was getting time to do laundry again, we went ahead and decided to try that one.<br /><br />We got the washer all hooked up to the water and drainage sink and proceeded to start the first batch of clothes by just putting the soap in, pushing the right buttons and going about our other business. Being a little paranoid about the suds, I checked to find that they were all foamed up and spilling out from under the lid. I got a cup and scooped most of them out, which we had to do a couple more times before it stopped agitating. Once it started to drain, we figured we were home free. (oh sure!!) As we were sitting there at the table quietly studying, we started to hear and feel this horrendous sound from the laundry room. We ran in and found that the vibrations of the spinning had sent the washer walking all over the room. John grabbed hold of it and hung on as he walked/wobbled it back into place and had to hold it down until the spinning stopped. We figured it must just be out of balance, so we grabbed the instructions to find out how to balance it. All it required was a special wrench, which we didn’t own, so he turned the legs by hand as far as he could. While he ran to find the maintenance men who had delivered it, I proceeded to start the washer back up so that I could rinse the clothes, knowing full well that it would probably start vibrating again as soon as the spin cycle kicked in. I hoped John would be back by then with help, but figured I could hold it down as well as he could, if I had to. Well, I found that I could, but my arms got so tired, I had to shut the machine down. Pondering my dilemma, I grabbed a chair from the dining room, climbed up on the washer and plopped down, turned the spin cycle on again and sat there for the next ten minutes riding the machine until it finally finished. What I didn’t realize was that this was a double-rinse cycle, so I let it do it’s thing again.<br /><br /></span><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTmFvYt_Wq7IoPbKLXKNc6tZ-qBNGfkIoPL4TOWR2uKurG2m0_T-J_k3zUx1qwkBxuBGtDgjQotOWqvlnfcS1ZMXZJFbO2r7FgEjFms8uFI-5uscOIsNuoS2ac50zFB9XFV-PCAotGgQ/s1600-h/365.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440134826205193346" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTmFvYt_Wq7IoPbKLXKNc6tZ-qBNGfkIoPL4TOWR2uKurG2m0_T-J_k3zUx1qwkBxuBGtDgjQotOWqvlnfcS1ZMXZJFbO2r7FgEjFms8uFI-5uscOIsNuoS2ac50zFB9XFV-PCAotGgQ/s400/365.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">I grabbed my book and climbed on again for the final spin, which is where John found me when he came back. This was a photo moment, if ever there was one. When the workmen came back with their wrenches, and made some adjustments, they wanted me to start another load so they could see what was going on. After emptying the first load and loading the second, and being cautious to add very little soap, we left the workmen to watch the cycle and they were there ready to catch it as it took off again. They decided that there was definitely something wrong with the machine and they would recommend to their superior that it be sent back. They left us there, with a batch of clean, but soapy, clothes, so I informed John that since I was now an experienced washing machine rider, I’d get my book and take it from there for the two rinse cycles. Once that was done and we had the laundry hung, we figured we’d go back to the washhouse with the last batch of dirty clothes. However, before we left, the ‘superior’ in charge of maintenance came and wanted to check out the washer before he had it sent back. Sooo.... we demonstrated the wash cycle for him, with John helping him hold it down, and then he left saying it would definitely have to go back. Okay, that’s fine, but now we’re left with one last batch of soapy laundry that needed to be rinsed. John volunteered to rinse it in the sink and then wring it out, but I had grown to love the jolly jaunt so much that I just grabbed my book, climbed aboard, and accompanied the ill-fated washer through its last two spin cycles. Yaaahooooo!!! I told you didn’t I, that it gets more and more comical. Who knows what to expect once we start washing our clothes at the hotel, but you know, I’m beginning to think there might be a book in the making here—how about DIRT DISPOSAL FOR DUMMIES or maybe even LAUNDRY LAMENTATIONS OF A LUDICROUS LADY? Does anyone know any publishers who might take a chance on it???<br /><br />Now, we’re not on this mission just to provide entertainment for the masses of people following this blog. We do have serious business here and it is really starting to pick up finally. We have a zone meeting tomorrow, a missionary training class on Friday and a Fireside on Sunday. Hopefully, after those meetings are out of the way, we’ll have plenty to keep us busy in the missionary vein. John, who has always been such a hard worker and has had all kinds of extra things to keep him busy back home, finds himself a little too idle when he gets to the point that he’s had enough of language and scripture study. He helps me with my duties--shopping, cooking, cleaning, LAUNDRY-- but is still feeling that’s not what he came to Samoa for. I suggested that he needed to start up another little hobby for just such times as these, like whittling, drawing, etc. While he was kibitzing around on the front porch with a bunch of the neighbor kids, and was waiting for me to come out with my little piano, a great idea struck me. He’d been wanting me to teach him how to play the piano for years, but would always get bored with it when I tried, like he did as a kid. Now he can’t run off to the woodshop or his garden when he needs something to do. Also, I need someone to experiment on with the Basic Piano Course that was added to my duties as a missionary.<br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6FLgXXgKvOg83EINNqP-CLP1ZxHmlAKZyNFQSwVA3IKHqYG8KtJt2MAIuBXVq8cApHdMjfYFs6sJ-FYZtZht5YOxsN7Pb5fuUnY7Xf9lBpi-Pog0LCYp_lvZw97BZfbikt135qYVfRA/s1600-h/378.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440134726364077186" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6FLgXXgKvOg83EINNqP-CLP1ZxHmlAKZyNFQSwVA3IKHqYG8KtJt2MAIuBXVq8cApHdMjfYFs6sJ-FYZtZht5YOxsN7Pb5fuUnY7Xf9lBpi-Pog0LCYp_lvZw97BZfbikt135qYVfRA/s400/378.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">So for the past two nights, I’ve started him on the simple lessons in that course. He’s practically teaching himself, so I don’t have to do much. He doesn’t last too long at it, but he is moving through the lessons and learning the technique and will actually be able to assist me in teaching it when he gets to a certain point in the course. Along with teaching simple piano/keyboard lessons, I’ll be teaching some conducting classes as well. Music always plays such an important part in all our worship services and auxiliary meetings. The Bishops all like to have up-and-coming accompanists and conductors in their wards to assist in the music callings in each auxiliary. So that’s another part of our member support responsibilities.<br /><br />Another part of my duties that John has taken on is helping with the cooking. I joked before we came to Samoa that since the men in Samoa do all the cooking, I would certainly go along with that and turn it all over to John. He has helped me a lot with meal preparation and cleanup since he has plenty of time to do it. We have been getting so many gifts of pineapple, papaya and bananas that we’ve had to discreetly unload some of it off onto the elders and they are usually happy to get it. The papayas and pineapples keep pretty well in the fridge, but once a banana is ripe, it needs to be eaten or turned into banana bread. The only baking pan we had in the house was one we picked up when we were last in Apia—a nice cake pan/baking pan/cookie sheet. We got a banana bread recipe from Kimmy when we were skyping with them and John figured he was ready to make banana bread. We realized that we had no eggs, so we bought a dozen very small eggs, for about 6.50 Samoan Tala (ST), which is about $3.00 (ouch!). We don’t plan to do too much with eggs at that price. After dinner one evening last week, John decided to make banana bread. He had all of the dry ingredients together in one bowl and had cracked the first egg into the other bowl with the oil. Somehow as he was reaching for the second egg, he knocked the whole carton of eggs on the floor. We lost about 8 of them in that accident.<br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT1Txi1jAn8WJIa1HdutaEX-06OA_SWAttqqIn_Dj6iDX0yjieQKSIn6Mf27ENr92n2yVeSR4mp_SJBg1CjJTCRPyiEMu4rK1bcAnNPaawG-JjVfGrqK0WHwTilky-1cYwuEZaYgVf-Q/s1600-h/372.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 299px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440134639584917442" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT1Txi1jAn8WJIa1HdutaEX-06OA_SWAttqqIn_Dj6iDX0yjieQKSIn6Mf27ENr92n2yVeSR4mp_SJBg1CjJTCRPyiEMu4rK1bcAnNPaawG-JjVfGrqK0WHwTilky-1cYwuEZaYgVf-Q/s400/372.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">He felt so bad, not only because of the mess, but the cost of the eggs. We cleaned it all up and finished getting the batter in the pan, sort of a small cookie sheet with high sides, and got it in the oven. We followed the recipe in terms of oven temperature and time, but realized after that we should have cooked it either a shorter time or a cooler temperature, because it looked pretty well done when we got it out of the oven. It did taste good though and we’ve requested some bread-baking pans in our next Care package from home. We learned a lesson or two on how to go about our next attempt at baking--alter the time and temp and keep the eggs away from the edge of the table.<br /><br />In the course of an average day we seem to spend a lot of time in the car. That can be pretty nice actually, in light of the constant heat and humidity. This little car is very well air-conditioned and a nice reprieve in the middle of the day. We see a lot of very interesting things as we drive around. John has been amazed at all of the newer homes that have replaced the typical old very picturesque Samoan fales (house) that he was so used to when he was here over fifty years ago. The thatched roof is pretty much a thing of the past, even on the typical fale, so nearly 90% of all buildings have corrugated metal roofing on them. To find someone actually living in one of the old style fales, instead of relegating them to cook house or animal abode, is quite unusual. We had to stop and snap a picture of this fale, with thatched roof intact, and still being lived in.<br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1n41UOAZaMMNluBwLm_RVo-3o8AU7HPzWQA6WsWzIVKTs4riaWJhf6K34clHz7kjp3Nl_A9vF14w5qnGC-Vbn1r6ftfsPRNGkjl7GV2vCh_e2zA2iVG__q78D0E1zZZesqC2GvPUIUA/s1600-h/374.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440134566181288290" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1n41UOAZaMMNluBwLm_RVo-3o8AU7HPzWQA6WsWzIVKTs4riaWJhf6K34clHz7kjp3Nl_A9vF14w5qnGC-Vbn1r6ftfsPRNGkjl7GV2vCh_e2zA2iVG__q78D0E1zZZesqC2GvPUIUA/s400/374.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"> Note the second little building next to the bigger one. That is the cook house. Most Samoan homes, including the more modern ones, have a little building outside of the regular house to do their cooking and especially the baking, because it keeps the mess and heat away from the family.<br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqNJe5Zny_YKd52tmKyKvrVRI3c6hSaXpIArmGRplQ6I8Um-Wpd4-nUjYcEmvkmwHGT2IPbz_eOBjcMH2yNaZ9WQ_F5eYeAEqloe4sZL24pMlJDkbT37xxLIKFg8HrcLWpBg45_oBF0w/s1600-h/390.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440134502178896610" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqNJe5Zny_YKd52tmKyKvrVRI3c6hSaXpIArmGRplQ6I8Um-Wpd4-nUjYcEmvkmwHGT2IPbz_eOBjcMH2yNaZ9WQ_F5eYeAEqloe4sZL24pMlJDkbT37xxLIKFg8HrcLWpBg45_oBF0w/s400/390.jpg" /></span></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5CHc2rvJXuvCvglvglE12sDXqOUZSwlv7jtOQcYfhSyOA3qboN0srqacbOrPAv3yuDulhxJjsrr6FYo18bNlUjE-DyS5yODwef4w8ZG_a5xrzQKAYHcP5i2fMPqGf3iNvfLBzc9lKmA/s1600-h/393.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440138277290781586" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5CHc2rvJXuvCvglvglE12sDXqOUZSwlv7jtOQcYfhSyOA3qboN0srqacbOrPAv3yuDulhxJjsrr6FYo18bNlUjE-DyS5yODwef4w8ZG_a5xrzQKAYHcP5i2fMPqGf3iNvfLBzc9lKmA/s400/393.jpg" /></span></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_Y4WHc8VfdM3r9q6xqAgwtB8vNWa6pQa0SBcQR9BQJwdVD4C4vllzFWfEvjHbyYomeOjGaX2189Mbd6jRbllavpQLG6pBDjShqKcHIJ4TeQp9-dGEEb_mggL76EiwrBgbXgwQDUFsow/s1600-h/414.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440134050401933506" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_Y4WHc8VfdM3r9q6xqAgwtB8vNWa6pQa0SBcQR9BQJwdVD4C4vllzFWfEvjHbyYomeOjGaX2189Mbd6jRbllavpQLG6pBDjShqKcHIJ4TeQp9-dGEEb_mggL76EiwrBgbXgwQDUFsow/s400/414.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"> The more modern version of Samoan homes may still have the open walls, but are often painted in very bright colors and have multi-colored print fabric shades to pull down when it rains or they want privacy at night. Notice the large cheerfully painted truck tires decorating the front yard in the third picture (a very common sight in Samoa). Their yards are all very well kept up and have colorful native foliage growing everywhere. There are very few lawnmowers in Samoa. All those neatly manicured lawns are kept up with a weed eater. I expect there could even be some that are still ‘mowed’ by a bunch of guys with machetes, the old fashioned way it was done when John was here as a young missionary. (This is 2 days later—today we actually saw a little old lady doing that very thing—cutting her grass with a machete almost as big as she was) The grass is also weed-eaten (is that a word?) about 6 ft. wide all along both sides of the highways where there are no homes at all. I thought it was just for looks, but John said that the way things grow here, the lush green vines would be encroaching on the pavement in no time, if they let them go. It makes sense to me, but it still looks really nice. </span><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaaFXcK8okAY4GgmLEQ6g6rbSrT_buM-Q7jV3mt07Wqzv4uFrtqz98fi94PaKeGwHypaguW0j0u29dknI8DlOWkrtX_GvmIgsqhnRmcVQRG1Ioi199X7hi_W8YzuvaA-73Fq-VcOyRVg/s1600-h/398.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440133963357586738" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaaFXcK8okAY4GgmLEQ6g6rbSrT_buM-Q7jV3mt07Wqzv4uFrtqz98fi94PaKeGwHypaguW0j0u29dknI8DlOWkrtX_GvmIgsqhnRmcVQRG1Ioi199X7hi_W8YzuvaA-73Fq-VcOyRVg/s400/398.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">Many of the homes, whether lavish or humble, have a tomb or several graves right in the front yard. There are few ,if any, cemeteries. Having family buried in the front yard is their way of making claim to the property, I understand. This one is of above average size and decoration, but there are many covered with marble, buried in bouquets of fake flowers, or housed inside a very elaborate little glassed-in building. I’ll probably include some shots of others later in another blog.<br /><br />There are also quite a few concrete block homes, with louvered windows which are almost always opened, even when it rains. That’s the type of house we live in here and I really like the control the louvers give us with the heat, air and rain. Almost every house, and church or school for that matter, has a large open building right next to or even attached to their homes like a covered patio, which sort of acts as a gathering room for large groups, and also doubles as living space, outdoor sleeping space and laundry-hanging space when it rains. I’ve wished for a building like that next to my house, so I don’t have to hang the clothes all over inside the house.<br /><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeCtLzAkopg7ZWvUZxqqKz_m6khY8Ib-wI5X7mNGBWqagvCIauQQzwl3LPsdmlo76NhDUosBS8R-PlSdMb20acZmFsenmt5A9UpJLurn-5y2YPCzeEGROLX6nzOgNULLRBzO7gaVPEsQ/s1600-h/415.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440133885573389058" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeCtLzAkopg7ZWvUZxqqKz_m6khY8Ib-wI5X7mNGBWqagvCIauQQzwl3LPsdmlo76NhDUosBS8R-PlSdMb20acZmFsenmt5A9UpJLurn-5y2YPCzeEGROLX6nzOgNULLRBzO7gaVPEsQ/s400/415.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"> </span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg22Ie36D2Og5YMPh0E9_gKGJVLoj2-or-TYqmskVtMDHuxkBZpdQsCTois4cG-JcG36672VVEaPfHyoCmG4WDUkXbRMzHeJ21Q4quci_9FRYbbt21jehZQ05H9IGpI66aJgWPkPdNUzQ/s1600-h/417.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440133820142840242" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg22Ie36D2Og5YMPh0E9_gKGJVLoj2-or-TYqmskVtMDHuxkBZpdQsCTois4cG-JcG36672VVEaPfHyoCmG4WDUkXbRMzHeJ21Q4quci_9FRYbbt21jehZQ05H9IGpI66aJgWPkPdNUzQ/s400/417.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"> </span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpEr-S-BmINN5u0taMrcP0rWhC-iuFdjeuXjkKEqtntfv6iItFIS_uUyneMhN-ZWYWUCEvF0o6jPKtt4SoTTeDQtGpF8G2UawbltIQXa0Jxac1KH1VAeiltHklAiTyb_quU59KUBddFg/s1600-h/421.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440133737402994642" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpEr-S-BmINN5u0taMrcP0rWhC-iuFdjeuXjkKEqtntfv6iItFIS_uUyneMhN-ZWYWUCEvF0o6jPKtt4SoTTeDQtGpF8G2UawbltIQXa0Jxac1KH1VAeiltHklAiTyb_quU59KUBddFg/s400/421.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">Speaking of homes, we paid a visit to our new little future home today and found a great deal of progress had been made. The front door and windows are in, the painting is almost finished inside and outside, and the cabinets need only to be varnished and the tile put down on the floor. It looks like we might be able to move in the first of next week.<br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvlTD2OYHN3CVJnYmRXtgpNZdEab50oamENDeu-bvWMrpOT4v0UAL3W1Zxge4yUL8DwElL7vk163CkcfUUFIaiKNPe9C_m2OGg1eHZmf0WYGM4S27HB6_pk3BHXHcxnyOm6drAbHxoog/s1600-h/418.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440133638931116866" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvlTD2OYHN3CVJnYmRXtgpNZdEab50oamENDeu-bvWMrpOT4v0UAL3W1Zxge4yUL8DwElL7vk163CkcfUUFIaiKNPe9C_m2OGg1eHZmf0WYGM4S27HB6_pk3BHXHcxnyOm6drAbHxoog/s400/418.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">While we were there, one of the workers’ had his son or grandson with him, an adorable little boy about 2 yrs old, I’d guess. The little one was very nervous and sober as we talked to him, especially when John placed his glasses on the boy’s nose. Just as I pulled my camera out to snap his picture, he spied it and let loose with this wonderful smile for the camera. He’s obviously had his picture taken before.<br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieo2ytvZP856sLRqouKKgiVnhtOCuwS2lYxB_OZyNli-kIyL9a-nCjtRi2PesH7UrKEkuhBzFoC0mSCWhwrrwwm272QpYG1Hva0QhCTSUi8Dzt1ggmBU6zbFrAvOpniFhBKSFkwOTb8g/s1600-h/369.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440133542942992482" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieo2ytvZP856sLRqouKKgiVnhtOCuwS2lYxB_OZyNli-kIyL9a-nCjtRi2PesH7UrKEkuhBzFoC0mSCWhwrrwwm272QpYG1Hva0QhCTSUi8Dzt1ggmBU6zbFrAvOpniFhBKSFkwOTb8g/s400/369.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">This load of kids in the back of an open pickup is another common sight we see. Truckloads of workers with their tools and machetes, families with kids of all ages, or teenagers in School uniforms are always on the road. Obviously there are no seat-belt laws or if there are, nobody pays attention to them. I mentioned earlier about not seeing a group of guys cutting the lawn with machetes. What we do see on lonely country plantation roads are groups of men, or a single man or boy here or there, walking along holding their machetes. I’ve gotten used to it now, though it was a little unsettling at first; but I’d bet that in another setting somewhere in the USA, people would be terrified by them, not to mention laws against them being carried around so freely. These are such peace-loving people, that there are very few policemen around, accept in the busiest areas in the Capitol, or here around the wharf where there are a lot of people coming and going.<br /><br />KAREN – February 16th – (five days later) We’ve had a more eventful week this time around. We did have a zone meeting where it was suggested that the missionaries could be a big help to the kids in the wards, by offering to assist them with their homework. All the children in Samoa are learning English and it is quite difficult for them. Apparently the government schools don’t give them enough English for them to pass their exams and get into better schools. The parents are so anxious for their children to succeed in English, because that’s where their futures will be found. After talking to the Bishop, it was decided that we would hold our first “homework assistance session” on Sunday afternoon at 3:30. It was announced twice in our church meetings earlier in the day and we expected to have a few kids, mostly teenagers, that we would be helping with their homework. Well, about 50 kids from about ages 5 to 17 showed up, plus some of their parents. Only a few of the older ones had homework with them. The others all just wanted to get better in English. The first 20 minutes were very confusing, trying to come up with some way to deal with all the different levels. Fortunately, we had two Elders there to help us. It was decided to split the group up and send the younger ones, some of whom could hardly read any English, out to another classroom with the missionaries. The poor elders also thought they would just be helping with a little homework, so as they left with the young kids, probably about 25 of them, they gave a us look that said “HELP!!!” I left John to fend for himself with the older kids for a while and helped herd the other children into another classroom and suggested the Elders start with the English alphabet, help them to recognize the letters and how they sounded, and maybe even make some words out of them. I left them and went back in to where John was trying to zero in on some sort of class discussion with the teenagers. They talked about the difference between Samoan pronunciation vs. English, and also had some of the kids with homework bring it up and we’d try to make a lesson out of it. We were still in over our heads, so I took another of bunch of Jr. High-age girls to another classroom and started to quiz them on what some of their biggest challenges were in school. The first room we went into was right next to the one that the elders had the younger ones in. The elders were doing great making games out of the alphabet, but the noise level was just like a playground at recess. With my bad ears and the soft spoken young girls, I couldn’t make sense out of anything they said. We moved to another room clear across the courtyard from the noise and did much better. In a more quiet setting, I resumed asking each one about their most challenging problem. They brought up things like, pronunciation, speech writing and delivering, spelling, etc. I was going by the seat of my pants here, so I asked each one of them to write a short speech, in English, one half page, telling us about themselves—who they are, their families, what they like to do--and if there were Samoan words that they didn’t know the English word for, to just leave a blank space and make a note of the Samoan word down below. I would also write a speech in Samoan about me and my life and we would all share it next week in front of each other. Once they all understood the assignment, we talked about another possible weekday class later in the week and promptly adjourned. I told the elders to go ahead and close down and went in to join John, where we announced that now we knew what we were up against, we would come better prepared next week. We’ll see how many show up next time.<br /><br />We’ve been on the phone all day for a couple of days since Sunday talking to people at the different church schools to see if there are some books and lesson plans we could use to make the classes more meaningful for the kids. We’ll be going over to Apia next week to pick up some materials, but in the meantime, we went to the local library, where the librarian was most anxious to help us come up with some books to use until we could get the help we needed from the schools. We’ve created a new schedule in order to split up the kids and spread them a little thinner. We’re going to ask the bishop to recommend some Ward Members who speak good English to help us as well. Say a prayer for us. We really need it.<br /><br />This experience makes me think of something that happed over in Pesega before we came to Savai’i. One of the young elders told us about a quote from a visiting general authority who was giving them some counsel during a time of discouragement. The quote said “There is no Growth in the Comfort Zone and there is no Comfort in the Growth Zone”. Those words hit home so totally with me that I had to go home and print it up (by hand with colored markers), frame it, and hang it on the wall where I could see it every day. I am definitely out of my ‘comfort zone’ and hopefully there is an enormous amount of ‘growth’ going on right now. It’s been made very clear to us that helping families bolster up their English is one of the best kinds of member support we can offer them, but how we do it will be a tremendous growth experience for us.<br /><br />JOHN: One morning last week I had the feeling that we needed to go down to one of the villages on the coast and visit the local minister. The village is called Sapapali’i, and has a bunch of history associated with it. It was here that the first Christian missionary, John Williams, arrived in Samoa in 1830, and the church set up became the LMS (London Missionary Society) church of Samoa. It continues this day to be the predominant church in the country. They are a protestant church patterned after The Church of England. The actual site of the landing is marked by a big monument, and right by it is this big, beautiful church. It may well be the biggest and most important LMS church in Samoa--certainly it is on this island. The other island, Upolu, is more populated, but because John Williams landed here it has special status over the other churches. The village was named to commemorate William‘s arrival there. When his ship’s sails broke the horizon, the white sails seemed to the Samoans to be like an explosion in the sky. Explosion is “pa pa”, and chief (or lord) is “ali’i”. The past tense is “sa”, hence the word Sa papa ali’i is contracted to “Sapapali’i”. The minister of this church is undoubtedly carefully selected, and holds a position of great respect. We met him, Esera (Ezra), and his wife Tamara and began what is proving to be a close, mutual friendship. They are most gracious, and eager to visit with us. They are both native Samoans, but speak good English, and look forward to our visits to engage in good, friendly conversation. I told him on our first visit that I had been listening to the local radio to help me get an ear for the spoken language, and that some of the best spoken word came from ministers’ sermons. I asked if he would allow us to attend his church so I could hear his sermons in Samoan. He said we were very welcome to come, and so the following Sunday we attended our first LMS Church meeting in his beautiful chapel. It was very impressive and the music was wonderful, with the audience doing all of it with full voices and wonderful harmony. He even spoke kindly of us from the pulpit, pronounced a blessing on our work, and asked his congregation to be accepting of us--not at all like the early days of our church when we were persecuted severely by the other churches of Samoa. He even announced that I would be giving a sermon at some point in the future. This story will be interesting to follow in days to come.<br /><br />KAREN: I’ll just fill in a few little blanks here about our visit to the LMS church. (Hmmm, interesting how close that comes to LDS Church). Actually, we were able to locate that minister because we ran into a young American girl from Texas named Emily who was walking by the Church earlier in the week. There are so few Americans on the island, that we seem to naturally migrate toward each other. She is in Samoa as a member of the Peace Corps and happens to be staying with our minister friend while she volunteers at an elementary (called primary) school in that village. She is struggling with Samoan like I am and we had a lovely visit with her. She told us where to find the minister’s home and hoped to meet with us again sometime to swap stories and languages. Before walking up to the minister’s home, I was very nervous about showing up there unannounced. They were so very cordial when we arrived and we had a wonderful visit and an invitation to attend their services on the following Sunday.<br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLEJ9YI2mugX136HHf-Ouy29x3flDOrbyatmcnGH9xoA5t_6K8hRgsUHBIfoDE2FOQI2LkJYHL5oyKliW0PnG0JxJ7du0e3vR3ZY_JmBgZmdpPG85cR0_7f-5qcTVE0qXIsdjAFDwqVQ/s1600-h/383.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440133435742531362" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLEJ9YI2mugX136HHf-Ouy29x3flDOrbyatmcnGH9xoA5t_6K8hRgsUHBIfoDE2FOQI2LkJYHL5oyKliW0PnG0JxJ7du0e3vR3ZY_JmBgZmdpPG85cR0_7f-5qcTVE0qXIsdjAFDwqVQ/s400/383.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"> As we were driving up to the church on that beautiful Sabbath morning, right in front of us in the driveway was a walking mass of church goers all dressed in their Sunday best white clothes. That is apparently a time-honored custom for many of the other Christian churches here in Samoa. The men had white sport coats on (despite the heat) and most of the women had big white hats. They all looked so beautiful. John was right about the music. They had two formal choirs, each with their own organ and organist, both of whom also seemed to be the choir director. Singing is a great tradition for Samoans, no matter what church they’re in. They grow up singing at the family devotionals they have every night in their own homes. Our Samoan tutor told us that most of them have relative pitch and hear harmony naturally. As a lifelong choir director, what I would have given for a bunch of them in my choirs along the way in my lifetime. (no offense intended for those few faithful and talented members of the Wallsburg Ward choir that might be listening in.)<br /><br />After the service, the minister and his wife asked us for lunch, but we had to rush off to our own church meetings where we had obligations. We made plans to do that on another Sunday.<br /><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheoQrWv7tnBV-VQ_tK6lisdqjIKjG527B0-fHIuHBNu2jLGOTD_8GoK0fsNDL6cI56EW36S9oVM_7G6Wy4Oo3jMxEReMLEXj5IGsM5j3s1j6EigkQvSaFwLc1kyq6OLV_lXZrx93KWRw/s1600-h/388.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440133347938188226" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheoQrWv7tnBV-VQ_tK6lisdqjIKjG527B0-fHIuHBNu2jLGOTD_8GoK0fsNDL6cI56EW36S9oVM_7G6Wy4Oo3jMxEReMLEXj5IGsM5j3s1j6EigkQvSaFwLc1kyq6OLV_lXZrx93KWRw/s400/388.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">The LMS church building is one of the prettiest churches of several along that strip of road. As you can see, it is beautifully kept up and if you notice off to the left is their covered open “cultural hall” where they have socials and probably even services sometimes when it’s really hot in the building. I hope to get some pictures of the inside of the church, but didn’t feel it was appropriate to do so on a Sunday during church. It has amazing intricate woodworking on the ceiling and colorful stained glass windows. It was a real treat to be there that day.<br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6Vg3Eo7hdfu1NjZGCDXTpY7wkc09H2yC0Zzh3BnJZdqhPGduIsJAsUCnsYEarbe8oxoGgT9w9zH1aY66A0jlOhFftzfuJ0BXhwUdotv4dIIS_d9H0XyPvXZWAdOHFfRb83oiiRfciVQ/s1600-h/397.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440133263209273762" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6Vg3Eo7hdfu1NjZGCDXTpY7wkc09H2yC0Zzh3BnJZdqhPGduIsJAsUCnsYEarbe8oxoGgT9w9zH1aY66A0jlOhFftzfuJ0BXhwUdotv4dIIS_d9H0XyPvXZWAdOHFfRb83oiiRfciVQ/s400/397.jpg" /></span></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFL-8oZ6abETSlnQMaQM-3QnSB96-SsaUkM9F2_NAtywbZpQHkLI0dJOshzcF_KVczaODjD7YqX6D-ZGWv53MclFrXFLhrp4TOHmnBbB_N4KwXwgnGyIABJYkOHrPZ9bnPEgX3cQdpuw/s1600-h/399.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440133190758777266" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFL-8oZ6abETSlnQMaQM-3QnSB96-SsaUkM9F2_NAtywbZpQHkLI0dJOshzcF_KVczaODjD7YqX6D-ZGWv53MclFrXFLhrp4TOHmnBbB_N4KwXwgnGyIABJYkOHrPZ9bnPEgX3cQdpuw/s400/399.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"> </span><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEV-D59rcdUJoSgKayHG_uYjAoM3kygjjPIgG2hTpkS4lQ0-ykyYnUNUrY4D03wv8axffbFeMKE_nPq-ganwOaEtKJhgiQRJPFUSLHjGVqrzO3zVR9TdOb8BD20XKx5jvaHusU-T5XNg/s1600-h/401.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440133094818887538" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEV-D59rcdUJoSgKayHG_uYjAoM3kygjjPIgG2hTpkS4lQ0-ykyYnUNUrY4D03wv8axffbFeMKE_nPq-ganwOaEtKJhgiQRJPFUSLHjGVqrzO3zVR9TdOb8BD20XKx5jvaHusU-T5XNg/s400/401.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">What with Samoa being a predominantly Christian nation, there are all kinds and sizes of churches everywhere. The first two pictures are of other churches along the same route as the LMS church. Note the luxurious home to the left of the blue and white one with the red roof, and especially note the pink and white tomb in the front yard. The second one was looking a little dilapidated when we drove past it the first few times, but today we noticed painters were freshening it up. When they noticed me taking the picture of the church, they decided to ham it up for me to take their picture as well. Samoans are also a very fun-loving people with a great sense of humor.<br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9TMOqdQcegkWrQLJD_X74NQz6FAlgFnstzgeaNQZWCOX7IN64g6uvJOzyfhYP6uVaF6k9VbyR_s4E4CJBbJwIS2Is1U4S-YRpEC_YMXLN3I90ougyd3dpV1QZFbbfJSeioZ2Cox4dKA/s1600-h/395.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440132987120601138" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9TMOqdQcegkWrQLJD_X74NQz6FAlgFnstzgeaNQZWCOX7IN64g6uvJOzyfhYP6uVaF6k9VbyR_s4E4CJBbJwIS2Is1U4S-YRpEC_YMXLN3I90ougyd3dpV1QZFbbfJSeioZ2Cox4dKA/s400/395.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"> </span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZFLIfA9d-LX4ZUBVeO9PMGe5D1wMrXGKJ_RAtObXogxHCSckSXolZegSpTsMv0YBdVvqgCgwN-4bsvGORKhO4ttVD9TrmIFDWstuztIskfcv928sVFCOaiXEjypgeuIyHG9lF3iyAZw/s1600-h/408.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440132898674200610" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZFLIfA9d-LX4ZUBVeO9PMGe5D1wMrXGKJ_RAtObXogxHCSckSXolZegSpTsMv0YBdVvqgCgwN-4bsvGORKhO4ttVD9TrmIFDWstuztIskfcv928sVFCOaiXEjypgeuIyHG9lF3iyAZw/s400/408.jpg" /></span></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik5jRrEyRmGAqGzU11QP08peZTBX9qo7Xrhu9sOGWXx45keZ6JnOjjGT3-9dAU6seM0YWNvUV9FDkh_T2kjPvRtiaNVIHHNPTxwPmgoedVav6UKkpNRy6oTzRjJ4rxR_oyX-haccCr3A/s1600-h/411.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440132817781322466" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik5jRrEyRmGAqGzU11QP08peZTBX9qo7Xrhu9sOGWXx45keZ6JnOjjGT3-9dAU6seM0YWNvUV9FDkh_T2kjPvRtiaNVIHHNPTxwPmgoedVav6UKkpNRy6oTzRjJ4rxR_oyX-haccCr3A/s400/411.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"> These three pictures are of a typical LDS wardhouse, of which there are a surprising number all over the Samoan islands. There is a charming outdoor baptistry in the courtyard, and in the rear their version of a cultural hall, including the open covered pavilion, restrooms and the volleyball and basketball courts (which double as a parking lot on Sundays).<br /></span><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhINACfhEhRuX9ldNHDWGL68bmj_SHbZN_sO5hpGGo_89yYwZdJv4G0fpSi-6tHHBviI8D1stU2Fm9LjtRMtySn1su_cRWndypf7mXFc1ba6UiftC0EcAmXSV8Txfm-23xSIBxwV_N-Tg/s1600-h/424.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440132717775203794" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhINACfhEhRuX9ldNHDWGL68bmj_SHbZN_sO5hpGGo_89yYwZdJv4G0fpSi-6tHHBviI8D1stU2Fm9LjtRMtySn1su_cRWndypf7mXFc1ba6UiftC0EcAmXSV8Txfm-23xSIBxwV_N-Tg/s400/424.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">JOHN: Yesterday we went for a walk along the beach road , and met a young man who had come to Savaii for his father’s funeral. His father had committed suicide as a result of the depression he felt after losing the sight in his one good eye. He said his dad was a good member of the church. He had gone to see a doctor for treatment of his good eye, and the doctor did something wrong, resulting in blindness in both eyes. There is a strong practice here of alternative medicine, actually it is the native medicine that has existed for centuries. Some claim that it works, but others don’t agree. They use a lot of native potions, massage, etc. I don’t know for sure, but I’d bet he was treated by a local practitioner and not a real doctor. He apparently stabbed himself in the temple with scissors to kill himself. We did have a good walk and talk with the son though. He wanted to give a tour of the village, and we walked for about an hour with him, talking both English and Samoan. We will probably get to know him more as time goes on because his mom is the Relief Society president in the ward there, and I think she is also the leader of the village women’s committee.<br /><br />I had a hard time sleeping the other night. I knew my good friend, Gary Totland, was in serious trouble in an intensive care unit back in Utah. We learned the next day that he had died about the same time I was having my attack of insomnia. I thought throughout the night that he was one of my few remaining close friends. He was the best man at my wedding, and we did many things, especially sports together over the early years of our lives. He was a great one who could make everyone happy with his wit and genuine friendliness. I’ll have to wait till I am on the other side to renew that friendship.<br /><br />KAREN: We are truly saddened by Gary’s unexpected death and it makes us feel much older as we realize that there are fewer and fewer friends and relatives our age. I know this must be a great shock for his wife and family, but also know that they, as we, will find comfort over time in the Savior’s gospel and the knowledge that death need not separate families permanently. Thank Heaven for that knowledge and the peace it gives us in times of grief and trial. Life continues to go on in Utah, with deaths, family birthdays, weddings, reunions, etc. and I’m sure we’ll have a lot more news from home to keep up with as we serve out here in the middle of the ocean. Hopefully, most all of the news will be happier than this last bit of news about Gary. So…keep the news coming, we love hearing from you.<br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX6CaIJeY8gFG0fjOtAE-k75DLrq3ynu7f__ymskqwJ8nOWGnRVVi92iCcHWRfK5pS7mdW8j7y7G6OJNjJgcpIU54ze3w8enwSr65GCRnlcnautuzSIM2qVX1DEWiCUtYaYpYYLkjfTA/s1600-h/403.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440132593714307506" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX6CaIJeY8gFG0fjOtAE-k75DLrq3ynu7f__ymskqwJ8nOWGnRVVi92iCcHWRfK5pS7mdW8j7y7G6OJNjJgcpIU54ze3w8enwSr65GCRnlcnautuzSIM2qVX1DEWiCUtYaYpYYLkjfTA/s400/403.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"> This final picture is of downtown Salelologo, probably the largest village on Savai’i and near the wharf where all traffic comes and goes on and off the island. The buildings all around the gas station are stores, and note that John is sitting in our car as a woman pumps his gas. No one pumps their own gas here.<br /><br />Well, thanks for suffering through our travelogue. As our mission progresses and we find ourselves much busier (we hope), I expect the blog will dwindle down to a trickle. It’s been a great time filler for me, like a good friend to talk to I might add, and will create great memories for us as we view it after our mission.<br /><br />Love to all from The Kroghs<br /><br />PS: we got our malfunctioning washing machine back today and it worked like a charm, in case you were sitting on the edge of your seats wondering about it. </span></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>John & Karen Kroghhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08097598934218597824noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7660554378340018126.post-41491031350871044652010-02-09T22:48:00.000-08:002010-02-10T09:47:20.432-08:00<span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000066;">#4 January 31, 2010<br /><br />JOHN: We travelled from Savai’i back over to Upolu yesterday a.m. on the ferry without any problems (seasickness). Saw flying fish and dolphins along the way. Shopped in Apia after lunch and bought more supplies. In the evening, we attended a huge meeting with all saints (church members) with Samoan songs and dances performed by young people from each stake on Upolu. Apostle Cook, Presiding Bishop Burton, area president and area seventy and all their wives were guests. Great program, but hot and very humid. Karen almost melted. Today we went early and bought fish at fish market (red snapper, albacore, and tuna). Big fish there, and many kinds.<br /><br />Went to the Temple in the morning to do an endowment session (special service only done in temples, where members can commit to living the gospel of Jesus Christ and in turn, great blessings are promised to those who keep covenants, and includes baptisms and endowments by proxy for deceased ancestors who died without the opportunity to hear the gospel and partake of those saving ordinances). The endowment session was full and so we went into a sealing session, where members are sealed by priesthood authority to family for time and eternity, including husband to wife and children to parents. Again, already-endowed members stand in as proxy for those who have died. Extremely moving and spiritual experience! It was conducted by a Samoan priesthood worker, who taught many great truths about the eternal nature of the family.<br /><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS6p7txyIFECxNaIarNogmkmmeFk4LMpVus9_SUMRx1Okgffl1y7v1q80RCMJx_8z1Iw0EJp7891OF6aUKZY-cBoW2IxtA9_o5KnO7cMVlF0OGI5D1qrBWQRk9O_ayvOZMj-CtDY9QzA/s1600-h/!cid_6A3F361F4DAD4DFF837117DB13E4B91E%40KroghPC.jpg"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000066;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436507604087769138" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS6p7txyIFECxNaIarNogmkmmeFk4LMpVus9_SUMRx1Okgffl1y7v1q80RCMJx_8z1Iw0EJp7891OF6aUKZY-cBoW2IxtA9_o5KnO7cMVlF0OGI5D1qrBWQRk9O_ayvOZMj-CtDY9QzA/s320/!cid_6A3F361F4DAD4DFF837117DB13E4B91E%40KroghPC.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000066;"> </span><div><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000066;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436507524566759970" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy7GmuumVDuZOG-U96Rpf8hFoss2cW6I4-T98hY62-th37IUZi82gHrhLNrcN2EGydGmDIkBtFqIlWbZ1OFHSjau3102eoNw9cWVANKx2oe3QocpADzsA42cFJLzTu8UrwlQjKU1lD_g/s320/!cid_5E2E7B310A254F4EB7F28DB9ADE9599C%40KroghPC.jpg" /> Later in day went to visit Fotu Aiono, a man who was a missionary over 50 years ago when I was here as a young man. His huge garden contained many wonderful plants (pineapple, papaya, taro, etc.) plus beautiful flowering plants mixed in with coconut palms, bamboo, flowering trees, etc.). Looked like a garden of Eden. Had lunch in his new home, and then came back to Apia for a meeting with all Samoan missionaries and above-mentioned general authorities. Great spirit felt by all. Great testimonies borne by apostle and presiding bishop. Lunch later with group of senior missionary couples, included many things we love to eat but don’t have very often in this country (potato salad, ice cream, etc.). Evening meeting with all saints in Samoa (some heard it in their villages on other parts of this island and on other islands by broadcast). Again a great meeting.<br /><br />KAREN: As John mentioned, we took the ferry back over to Upolo for a special church conference with visiting General Authorities from Salt Lake, who are travelling all over the South Pacific visiting the missions and giving support and encouragement to the missionaries and members. The ferry ride turned out to be okay. I had been dreading the ride on this small ferry (We had taken the large ferry over on our first trip, which is a smoother ride.) The last time we made this trip 5 years ago on this same small ferry, I had one of the most miserable experiences of my life. We got stuck in the car during a storm with the ferry rocking up and down and no way to get out the doors to go up to the deck for some air. I could open the door a small crack on my side with just enough space to lose my lunch (a couple of times) onto the floor of the boat. On John’s side, his door wouldn’t open, so he had to roll down the window and throw up all over the side of a large SUV parked about 6 inches away. There were 4 of us in the small compact car, right up against a wall on one side, the SUV on the other, and I became very claustrophobic, as well as sick. The trip takes about 1 hour and 15 minutes, but sitting there in despair it felt like three hours. Yesterday, I would have chosen to take the later ferry, the large one, but the other couple we went with felt we had to leave early in order to get all our shopping done. We don’t get to the big city very often so we take full advantage of the better shopping while we’re here.<br /><br />Before we got on the ferry, Sister Montgomery and I got out of the car and went into a small lounge toward the center of the ferry where less movement is felt. I had taken my ginger pills over an hour earlier, the locally recommended remedy for seasickness, and found a nice comfortable seat in the lounge to try to close my eyes and possibly fall asleep in order to weather the storm. It all worked like a charm. I dozed off right away and woke up about 45 minutes into the trip feeling just fine. I was able to sit up, jot some notes into my ‘pre-blog’ notebook, and check over my shopping list before we came close to shore again. When we went back out to where the car was parked right along the rail, we found John and Elder Montgomery raving about the sight-seeing tour they’d had watching the school of dolphins that were swimming and leaping alongside the ferry together with the flying fish. Apparently, we had missed a real show. I felt bad about Sis. M. missing out just to keep me company, but she said she had seen ‘that show’ several times and I would be able to also over the next couple of years. I felt a huge relief, knowing I could make this trip back-and-forth between islands without a repeat of my earlier journey of misery. I think I can really put that memory behind me now.<br /><br />Once we landed on Upolo, we hit the ground running. We went straight in to the Mission Office, which was a hubbub of activity. It was swarming with young elders who had come in from all over the islands for the conference, some of whom we had made acquaintance with back at the MTC in Provo. We also met up with the other new Senior couple who we had trained with in the MTC, a dynamo of a team who would be responsible for the medical health of all missionaries. They were from Canada, but originally from England and had every earmark and accent of a true Brit. They had to stay at the MTC a week longer than we did for extra medical training, and had landed in Upolo after we had left for Savai’i. It was so good to see them again. I wish there was time and space here to tell you their history, but suffice it to say it was very colorful. After clearing a up a bunch of paperwork, a brief meeting with President Haleck, and renewing acquaintances with other Senior couples we had met during our first week on Upolo, we set out for a shopping trip. It seemed much hotter in Upolo, but it was a truly sunny day, which we hadn’t experienced for awhile, and we were constantly on the move. We made our trek around to several stores to locate different food items, not available on Savai’i, and for several household items we would need to set up our new apartment. The one big item we needed was a microwave. What with the constant heat, using a stove and oven can really steam up an apartment. We were appalled at what we had to pay for one, almost $500 for the cheapest one we could find. We decided it was worth it to have access to the quick and cooler cooking method. We got a white one, but the stainless steel model was almost $1000.<br /><br />One of the purchases I made in the States before we came was a nifty little 5-pound electric sewing machine to have on hand for mending, etc. I can’t seem to live my life normally without a sewing machine close at hand. I’d had such a dilemma trying to shop for the right kinds of clothes for the heat and humidity and still stay within the guidelines of conservative missionary attire. I’d had such mixed messages from my missionary guide book and ex-Samoan missionaries, that I just packed a bare minimum of clothes, and figured I’d just whip up the proper wardrobe once I got in Samoa. When I first got to the Mission office, I discovered all the lady missionaries were dressed in these wonderful colorful Samoan prints of light-weight cotton, and sandles with no hose. I knew that sewing machine would really come in handy right away. I shopped for fabrics and set myself up early on to make some acceptable Samoan missionary clothes. I’m sure you’re aware that the electrical power source in other countries is different than the US, so we have to use special plug adaptors, and even transformers, in order to use American appliances, such as curling irons, blow dryers and sewing machines. I knew that, but when I hooked up my straightening iron the first time, using only an adaptor, it blew a fuse and I assumed it had ruined the iron. Gratefully, the fuse switch just flipped off. My naturally wavy hair kinks so tight with the Samoan humidity that I look like a little old lady straight out of the beauty parlor with a new perm. I can straighten my bangs and sides with the iron, but it doesn’t last long. Oh well, I guess I am a little old lady, or big old lady in my case. On the day I set up the sewing machine for the first time, I carefully added the converter plug and proceeded to plug it into an electrical strip instead of the transformer. This time it didn’t just blow a fuse; it completely burned out the motor. I felt more stupid than upset. I had only paid $39.00 for the little machine at a half-price sale, so I figured I’d just find a little one here in Samoa that worked with the local current, and donate it to the mission when I went home. What I didn’t anticipate was that there are virtually no home sewing machines for sale in all of Samoa. I found one that had to be hand-cranked and two old foot-treadle machines. I was just totally perplexed. I’ve since discovered that the only ones who sew in Samoa are tailors and dressmakers and most of them use commercial machines. So, I found a place in town that would fix my little machine, but they’d have to order a new motor from New Zealand and they suggested we replace it with one that worked with Samoan current. I said okay, and don’t have a clue what I’ll have to pay for the new motor and labor, but I’ll bet anything it will be a whole lot more than the $39.00 I paid for it in the first place. When I expressed my chagrin to the clerk at having to wait so long for the machine to be repaired, and that I needed it to get the proper clothes made, she kindly offered me the use of her little electric Singer machine until mine was fixed. When I protested that it was too much to ask, she would not take ‘no’ for an answer. So I am now using her machine for as long as I need it. That is just the Samoan way. Our Samoan tutor cautioned us about complimenting people about things they were using or wearing, because they would end up giving it to you as a gift. Well, this sewing machine was only a loan, but it was like a gift to me. While we were back in Upolo, I stopped in the shop to find out how soon I could expect my own machine back and she said it would be at least a couple of weeks and I was not to worry about it. She didn’t need it back for quite a while. That was not unusual Samoan behavior, I am told. So I happily purchased some more fabric from her, very inexpensive in Samoa by the way, and we went about the business of finishing our shopping.<br /><br />For lunch in town that day, the Montgomerys took us to a wonderful little restaurant, tucked back in an alley behind the stores, where we had a really wonderful hamburger, with fries and all the fixins and more. Besides the usual lettuce, tomato, pickle, Mayo, etc., it had a fried egg and a slice of pineapple on it. We could hardly get our mouth around it, but we managed with the help of a big napkin.<br /><br />After we had finished lunch and shopping, we hurried back to the Church College where a very special show was performed for the visiting Church authorities, the local members and all of us missionaries. The show was great, but it was so hot and sticky in that big hall, I thought I was going to pass out. When Samoans start singing and dancing, they just don’t stop. We enjoyed it a lot, but were ready to head back to our rooms and go to bed. To bed YES, but sleep NO.<br /><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHUr3uudJiGMcn48KZQisVQaISjIkonAlJ_bFx2xwpepCo4rOQel42G-5Q4UvAuDVAL0grmfkEVWHEm9m50y3mxODymPhTxmPGsOrWzdtscj6Veb33TUXXh08ckWm01y3hh_zzZnN5Vg/s1600-h/!cid_C1519640C24B407980A78F085F781DF2%40KroghPC.jpg"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000066;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 180px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436507419510540626" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHUr3uudJiGMcn48KZQisVQaISjIkonAlJ_bFx2xwpepCo4rOQel42G-5Q4UvAuDVAL0grmfkEVWHEm9m50y3mxODymPhTxmPGsOrWzdtscj6Veb33TUXXh08ckWm01y3hh_zzZnN5Vg/s320/!cid_C1519640C24B407980A78F085F781DF2%40KroghPC.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000066;"> We stayed in a very nice guest house that doesn’t get used very often, or fumigated often enough, so we shared the place with several lizards, geckos and a couple of the biggest cockroaches I had ever seen, probably over two inches long. Needless to say, I stayed awake a good part of the night, tossing with the heat and humidity, and worrying about which critter would end up in bed with me. We got up early the next morning in order to go to an early session at the Temple. I kept having to go back to the house because I’d forget different things, and that made us a little late. We were picking up Elder and Sister M. on the way, and I felt really bad when we got to the Temple and found out the session was too full. We were going to have to wait for a later session, which would make us late for a lunch date to visit the plantation of one of John’s old Samoan friends. While we were deciding what to do, a temple worker came out and invited us into a sealing session instead. I was so relieved, but still embarrassed that I was responsible for throwing our time schedule off. Once we went back in, changed into our white temple clothes, and were seated in the sealing room, I started to become a little more calm. As the sealings proceeded, I began to feel the sacred spirit of the Temple and more particularly the significance of this most wonderful of all the ordinances we have in the Church of Jesus Christ. Realizing that these people, whose names we were vicariously acting as proxies for and who had died over a century ago, had been waiting as spirits for heaven knows how long to be restored to each other as a family unit on the other side of the veil. You could almost feel their presence in the room. Being there, in that sealing room, or any sealing room in any temple in the world, is the ultimate goal of all faithful Latter-day-saints. As missionaries, our total focus is on bringing as many living souls as possible, whether they be new members or inactive members, to this point in their spiritual journey in preparation for glorious blessings in this life and the life hereafter. I was humbled, as I’ve never been in my life, by the magnitude of our responsibility to these good people, in spite of whatever hard work, discomfort or homesickness we are faced with. Aside from raising our own eternal family and teaching them about the Savior, nothing we will ever do in our lives could be more important.<br /><br />After going through several tissues during the session, I felt drained, but uplifted. Our being late for the regular session and ending up in the sealing room, was exactly what I needed that day. I knew we were exactly where we were supposed to be, doing what we were supposed to do at this stage of our life. I felt wonderful. The euphoria of the experience lasted on through the weekend and I was bolstered for the work and the trials ahead.<br /><br />Once we landed back on Savai’i, and on up to Vaiola, we were sort of back to normal (for us on Savai’i anyway). Early morning walk/run down the beautifully manicured entrance road to the School (see picture below), shower, breakfast, scriptures, language study, to town to find some other much-needed item that can’t be found, shopping for groceries (practically daily because we have such a tiny fridge), to the bank ATM for cash (Samoa is pretty much a cash-only place), visiting around with local people at the stores, bank, internet café (to download and send off our emails), and the open market.<br /><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgrlmV9Hklr_zwcwFm4l7DaJhtsDpNyCaVDbwD54zuqCUSQh68UD4z9VphwuU9_fzP-6zsxiJh1Kja2agMBEuflkcHPbwWcD5f17AjBLhMbTPObCunLEJCUzrdwMQ88HPpZOjs0TwGdg/s1600-h/!cid_8BE574BB2D9E41EA9E36A5A0EA434D02%40KroghPC.jpg"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000066;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436507217155143026" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgrlmV9Hklr_zwcwFm4l7DaJhtsDpNyCaVDbwD54zuqCUSQh68UD4z9VphwuU9_fzP-6zsxiJh1Kja2agMBEuflkcHPbwWcD5f17AjBLhMbTPObCunLEJCUzrdwMQ88HPpZOjs0TwGdg/s320/!cid_8BE574BB2D9E41EA9E36A5A0EA434D02%40KroghPC.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000066;">A trek to the open market is really something. The building is a very modern, open, two-story sort of mall, like a bazaar, with open stalls on the first floor (see the picture and notice the woman in the lower left corner taking a nap at her stall during a lull in business. Many of the merchants have a bed or lounge by their stall, or a kid or two asleep on the table). The picture of the men sitting on benches around a table is a place where only men can come to buy and drink Kava, (a not quite alcoholic beverage) and get involved in a checker game, either to play or watch, or just to visit. The second floor is made up of dozens of small shops selling just about everything (except what you’re looking for). Like any self-respecting mall, they have their ‘food court’, where some very questionable foods (for me anyway) are available for all.<br /><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGe1AlmVj1wXjw2qA8LRHaEfclCxLOQQkHj-X8w3bHfCKN-i5mQj3ZRw3ZWe6zs0AlDqLnUR4Ww9r7KTmCUiqW1fmUjOx1SH_z_6Z_SzIJKn7NCuc-IzODEoxsMt6cXNZ3rtrq-TQT_w/s1600-h/!cid_9D02CCC3897346DEB105F6C6C65BA2E8%40KroghPC.jpg"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000066;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436507071170037778" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGe1AlmVj1wXjw2qA8LRHaEfclCxLOQQkHj-X8w3bHfCKN-i5mQj3ZRw3ZWe6zs0AlDqLnUR4Ww9r7KTmCUiqW1fmUjOx1SH_z_6Z_SzIJKn7NCuc-IzODEoxsMt6cXNZ3rtrq-TQT_w/s320/!cid_9D02CCC3897346DEB105F6C6C65BA2E8%40KroghPC.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000066;"><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim5N_WSwNFU_xkP7nnhYNHZqSxj-GTgFwzcuECp2HGH327sCMY-B3xP_Dp-gAHlwkszgB39aOmPr-oN1_2sDeT-0ErY-ag8FOr4m4UC893AynmMHfLevkYUx2Fybb_hC50g4qrXTDqdg/s1600-h/!cid_1B969E2F167441CF93C19272C03E16B4%40KroghPC.jpg"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000066;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436506898741970338" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim5N_WSwNFU_xkP7nnhYNHZqSxj-GTgFwzcuECp2HGH327sCMY-B3xP_Dp-gAHlwkszgB39aOmPr-oN1_2sDeT-0ErY-ag8FOr4m4UC893AynmMHfLevkYUx2Fybb_hC50g4qrXTDqdg/s320/!cid_1B969E2F167441CF93C19272C03E16B4%40KroghPC.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000066;"><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy9KKav-OFdXRt6DXsGO7w2eJO1RyjdNJJosBPpl9JStvX5OW8cEGwOPCOM2wgQ1yiw8IvG1uGdjrjX7eFGzICIjDmG9SNSyvDIM-ff3ePxX3LGgTTTJc9jr4HKIEwEdcAoQpT86hyphenhyphenEw/s1600-h/!cid_8A74D3C3E57F4CF4A95C743417FF1183%40KroghPC.jpg"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000066;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436506741106340802" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy9KKav-OFdXRt6DXsGO7w2eJO1RyjdNJJosBPpl9JStvX5OW8cEGwOPCOM2wgQ1yiw8IvG1uGdjrjX7eFGzICIjDmG9SNSyvDIM-ff3ePxX3LGgTTTJc9jr4HKIEwEdcAoQpT86hyphenhyphenEw/s320/!cid_8A74D3C3E57F4CF4A95C743417FF1183%40KroghPC.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000066;"> On our way back home, we usually stop by the apartment (where we will supposedly be moving soon) to check on the progress of the construction of our new home. (the photo says it all)<br /></span><div></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjediT54of_U3bh0FcjyDIrd7Ckw_BglJRUvpzMYa_jJzWteXE2cB8ilv8xbkn76BKjT5B0glyQ4XYEA5STYGirmV31DiVmjjWtXOQfQ4PlUqhMM-44nzkvOqu5kWcAbAwFRW82QWcrgg/s1600-h/!cid_F6EB67765B734A059C6964040EE97822%40KroghPC.jpg"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000066;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436506623381918018" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjediT54of_U3bh0FcjyDIrd7Ckw_BglJRUvpzMYa_jJzWteXE2cB8ilv8xbkn76BKjT5B0glyQ4XYEA5STYGirmV31DiVmjjWtXOQfQ4PlUqhMM-44nzkvOqu5kWcAbAwFRW82QWcrgg/s320/!cid_F6EB67765B734A059C6964040EE97822%40KroghPC.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color:#000066;"> Progress??? </span><br /></span></span></div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2LQSA_tF7dQlL6ERJ1Tt-2iG2uqYAYKE3jDv-ZxqSafjc2AKDV2C7ZWHSREjL6VV2y8abFkBt5PMEWZvTDvdneSE85j6aZJuOnaTmbqgvPNnsnBLa5JyrJk_WUWnAOOzfgxJUoOT9KA/s1600-h/!cid_155E8659361F4B3A9F1FFAEAE7FED3AB%40KroghPC.jpg"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000066;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436506344362608898" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2LQSA_tF7dQlL6ERJ1Tt-2iG2uqYAYKE3jDv-ZxqSafjc2AKDV2C7ZWHSREjL6VV2y8abFkBt5PMEWZvTDvdneSE85j6aZJuOnaTmbqgvPNnsnBLa5JyrJk_WUWnAOOzfgxJUoOT9KA/s320/!cid_155E8659361F4B3A9F1FFAEAE7FED3AB%40KroghPC.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000066;"> Once we’re back home and John has cooked up a great (really) red snapper (a fish market purchase) for dinner, we sit out on the front porch, where most evenings the neighborhood kids will congregate for a visit. </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHm4RqT7EuugRJzx5vdS0MOiZymLGtgdUGvPuNxHCGJUwGHGUUp5L9c5Qw776xvTtfoJzki5uM8og5XgbSd0rnqDs13eiUozuml_hyphenhyphenZFx2oSUftbT2mR2xFlGnnr1qWnKk7WW5AIENtg/s1600-h/!cid_966FB26271DD46E09748557C7B6B237A%40KroghPC.jpg"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000066;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436506277072379650" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHm4RqT7EuugRJzx5vdS0MOiZymLGtgdUGvPuNxHCGJUwGHGUUp5L9c5Qw776xvTtfoJzki5uM8og5XgbSd0rnqDs13eiUozuml_hyphenhyphenZFx2oSUftbT2mR2xFlGnnr1qWnKk7WW5AIENtg/s320/!cid_966FB26271DD46E09748557C7B6B237A%40KroghPC.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000066;"> They are all children of the teachers and have wonderful Samoan names, like Brandon, Valentine, Norman, Cherry, Nedra, Angel, Rose, Joseph, Fraser etc. Actually, most have Samoan names too and the fine young four-year-old gentleman front-and-center in the photo is called Sefulu (meaning Number 10) because he is the tenth child in that family. They are all very sharp kids and speak quite good English (which is required here at this school). They love looking at the pictures of our family in our 50th Wedding Anniversary album and trying to identify which baby grows up to be which teenager or adult. One day I brought out my little roll-up piano (a rubber keyboard that wraps around a little box that houses the speakers and lays out flat when you unroll it). It’s about three octaves long but the keys are standard size. When I told the kids I was going in the house to bring out my piano, they were really puzzled, particularly when I came back with a little bag about 7” x 8” x 3”. I played a couple of nursery rhymes and primary songs on it, and they all sang along beautifully, and then they all wanted to play it. So we set it on a very tall book to make it more stable and each child took a turn playing the notes as I pointed to them from the opposite side of the keyboard. Today we picked up a board at the lumber yard so that we can lay the whole piano out flat and make it easier to play. I expect there’ll be music from our porch for many nights before we move, a hopefully so when we come back to visit. Vaiola is only about 20 minutes from Lalomalava where are new apartment will be located.<br /><br />One day last week, while we were shopping at a local grocery story, we ran into the owner of the hotel where our new apartment will be and informed him that we’d decided to go to his hotel restaurant for dinner. He is the chef as well as the owner. He told us to come about 7:00 p.m. We had wanted to come earlier while we were still in town, but we realized later why coming a little later was a really good idea. We killed some more time in town and showed up for dinner about 7:00. There were some very interesting things on the menu (most apparently quite edible by my standards) and the prices weren’t bad at all. We selected two items and while waiting for the food to be prepared we enjoyed the lovely ambiance of the restaurant. It is situated right at water’s edge and the whole wall that faces the ocean is open. The waves don’t break right near the shore at this point on the island because the reef is quite a bit further out and they break over the reef. The water inside the reef is very calm and peaceful. We could hear it just gently lapping the rocks like you might hear along the edge of a large lake. They must have planned the background music just for us because they were playing some oldies out of the 50’s, most of which we recognized--Nat King Cole, Franky Lane, Bing Crosby, in case any of you are old enough to remember those singers. We had finished our dinner, which was absolutely fabulous by the way, and were patiently waiting for the check, when the unexpected ‘Dinner Show’ began. </span></div><div><div><div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP_vriKI3ILtKtIf0d7HHdmTgS-gSE6KgObFC19yqkPaO_BDBMNIcFaE4YqOgDGq-PYXTCcXsy1jGgVkUccvsJbS569vTkTJv5HkVx_a9GhwU1g5ZdII-sAjL5ToJDUUJnyvJPLBJN8w/s1600-h/!cid_675F01AD5B934C17BD0C8CD8549BF68B%40KroghPC.jpg"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000066;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436506070067170658" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP_vriKI3ILtKtIf0d7HHdmTgS-gSE6KgObFC19yqkPaO_BDBMNIcFaE4YqOgDGq-PYXTCcXsy1jGgVkUccvsJbS569vTkTJv5HkVx_a9GhwU1g5ZdII-sAjL5ToJDUUJnyvJPLBJN8w/s320/!cid_675F01AD5B934C17BD0C8CD8549BF68B%40KroghPC.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000066;"><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkQyIRSCxt1fGkNFv7yI8TrnL7a1NcitXpxyiGqFu1_YBo0fndUbHe1aTy3mZj5clMifCoTS2ZM0FGZjEG-_-Ax8pOC22Qox3kMSF7MerprBQBeYb-N0YOchxz6fN0KZfCMPNyWn6Iuw/s1600-h/!cid_52D933329ABD439699B760FC3636D07E%40KroghPC.jpg"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000066;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436505992769054210" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkQyIRSCxt1fGkNFv7yI8TrnL7a1NcitXpxyiGqFu1_YBo0fndUbHe1aTy3mZj5clMifCoTS2ZM0FGZjEG-_-Ax8pOC22Qox3kMSF7MerprBQBeYb-N0YOchxz6fN0KZfCMPNyWn6Iuw/s320/!cid_52D933329ABD439699B760FC3636D07E%40KroghPC.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000066;"><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZL-k4AESVxqRfxiRLvMfKhBq0LhUtvYsWMM_kXAFXDYF6_diTZxf6jICPJRa4n66Q__qmC9ybR-L-MIr9P0Cag7vsWX9Kd7b3ZuqOVKBhE354JMYy693NBTW6QRZIS4YhhfTJeAwYnw/s1600-h/!cid_675F01AD5B934C17BD0C8CD8549BF68B%40KroghPC.jpg"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000066;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436505914569584690" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZL-k4AESVxqRfxiRLvMfKhBq0LhUtvYsWMM_kXAFXDYF6_diTZxf6jICPJRa4n66Q__qmC9ybR-L-MIr9P0Cag7vsWX9Kd7b3ZuqOVKBhE354JMYy693NBTW6QRZIS4YhhfTJeAwYnw/s320/!cid_675F01AD5B934C17BD0C8CD8549BF68B%40KroghPC.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000066;"><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ4vq3HO3L1VYbKmH0Pm9fgLh4e-BB6cuvL-84-KpP9S-zhNNUWJHZBoKpU_xLuEII1gD2X-qakR-gXz0yfTn7eSJg8bX3Q-3WVpsA7aaIutIMn8feIvWlnFEb5Gotht28ik5Gf5tYkg/s1600-h/!cid_BCC201E7AF0F4CAAABE81771D996564D%40KroghPC.jpg"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000066;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436505827077846466" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ4vq3HO3L1VYbKmH0Pm9fgLh4e-BB6cuvL-84-KpP9S-zhNNUWJHZBoKpU_xLuEII1gD2X-qakR-gXz0yfTn7eSJg8bX3Q-3WVpsA7aaIutIMn8feIvWlnFEb5Gotht28ik5Gf5tYkg/s320/!cid_BCC201E7AF0F4CAAABE81771D996564D%40KroghPC.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000066;"><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0QI4xuFNNmxe-Ic1IAcZm1Jzk3NDiAGKc2Ph1YJuCcZtkFGJWF21w_XcDkcShkr1uuNfj4ANLUCC6LimAmap5A9-cyx5g0oKPNgWBKITPnuYGbVT2I868hmrmbHT6DTprJE4seSinRg/s1600-h/!cid_D15DAABA61414CEBAF7D39C19205015E%40KroghPC.jpg"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000066;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436505508462088450" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0QI4xuFNNmxe-Ic1IAcZm1Jzk3NDiAGKc2Ph1YJuCcZtkFGJWF21w_XcDkcShkr1uuNfj4ANLUCC6LimAmap5A9-cyx5g0oKPNgWBKITPnuYGbVT2I868hmrmbHT6DTprJE4seSinRg/s320/!cid_D15DAABA61414CEBAF7D39C19205015E%40KroghPC.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000066;"> The sun was just beginning to set and the reflections on the water and clouds were starting to show a little color. I got my camera out of my purse and took a picture, only to find that the sunset proceeded to become more and more brilliant as the seconds ticked away. I’d think it couldn’t get any better and then it did, again and again and again. I’ve only showed about six frames here, but I probably took 20 or so altogether over a period of about 5-7 minutes. It was just an amazing way to finish a meal and an evening. Once we paid the bill and started to leave, we met Poi (the chef and owner) out in front of the restaurant, where he was carrying his beautiful little two-year-old daughter and was walking with an older gentleman, a Palagi (white). We congratulated Poi on the delicious meal and he introduced us to his father, who is an Englishman and who founded the hotel. Poi’s mother is a native Samoan and is also the Minister of Health in Samoa. She lives most of the week in Apia (the Capitol on the other island) and comes home on weekends, while the retired father stays at the hotel on Savai’i, where his son has taken over the management, and the cooking. We also complimented them on the glorious sunset extravaganza, and his father said we must come back when the moon is full and the show is magnified by a moonrise over the water. Since we’ll be living right there once we move, I expect we’ll get to see it anytime the sun and moon decide to make an appearance together.<br /><br />You are all probably wondering what on Earth kind of a mission we’re on, what with shopping, sightseeing, killing time, dinner out, wandering all over town, going snorkeling, etc. Well, that’s a good question. We probably don’t even know the whole answer yet. The ultimate purpose of our mission is to bring souls to Christ, which can be achieved through many avenues. Our specific avenue and job title is Member and Leader Support, which means a lot of things, but especially that we are here on Savai’i to assist new members, who have accepted the Gospel of Jesus Christ, to ease into church activity and help train them as they are called to leadership positions. We will also be friend-shipping inactive members and hoping to help them recognize the blessings of returning to full fellowship and activity, and, of course, set their eyes on the ultimate goal of going to the Temple with their families. Since the Stakes are beginning several new programs for activation that are just getting off the ground, we have to wait until we meet with all the wards and their members, identify those who need fellowshipping and then team up with the members to visit, get acquainted with, and continue to fellowship. Our first Member Activation Fireside is next week, where we’ll be making appointments to start the visits. (a ‘fireside’ in Mormon jargon just means an informal gathering of people, outside of the regularly scheduled meetings, where different subjects are discussed or presented. They usually take place in people’s homes, (‘around the fire’ so to speak) but not always. John attended a Priesthood meeting with all the Stake Presidents and the area authorities and discussed with them our availability to help. We’ll be going all over the island attending firesides and teaming up with members in all the wards. Probably about 30% of all Samoans are Mormons and the young missionaries are teaching and baptizing new members all the time, so we have our work cut out for us once we really get started. We will also be meeting with the missionary preparation class, which is held once a week, to help young men and women who desire to serve a mission to prepare themselves spiritually to go out into the world to preach the gospel. Hopefully we can do some good. In the meantime, we are just biding our time, shopping for food and furnishings for a new apartment, and visiting around with anyone who will talk to us. We actually do our snorkeling on our “P” day (preparation day), sort of a day-off from missionary work to write letters, emails, clean house, have some sort of recreation and, of course, do laundry.<br /><br />JOHN: One day this week we drove up the coast to see if we could find the village where I served as a young missionary. I was unable to find the exact spot where our old house stood. It was behind a chapel, and the chapel is now gone. The other fales there looked unfamiliar to me, but there was a new chapel nicely situated on a projection, right on the coastline. The village is called Moesavili, which means sleep in the breeze, and there was a nice, cool breeze coming in off the ocean as we walked around this beautiful new chapel. The grounds were landscaped and maintained beautifully, and we found a cab driver and 2 lady missionaries who informed us that this was, in fact, the Moesavili chapel. The coastline there is something you might expect to see on a travel brochure – absolutely beautiful.<br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTzsYobGGWqkIYO2IlgavOC3zV4bpMAZDzHKDfhoXvUoXHzn0dU85FQKR5Q7cEuykU37cKazKKB1uBcb39yVFolbt9lFt-NEJXOPUImylI1StxMB2nEsggRDtqwN9UeX57efgh7IYpUg/s1600-h/!cid_06FC6581A023491DB4B5A769A1C1BED8%40KroghPC.jpg"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000066;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436505194095641682" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTzsYobGGWqkIYO2IlgavOC3zV4bpMAZDzHKDfhoXvUoXHzn0dU85FQKR5Q7cEuykU37cKazKKB1uBcb39yVFolbt9lFt-NEJXOPUImylI1StxMB2nEsggRDtqwN9UeX57efgh7IYpUg/s320/!cid_06FC6581A023491DB4B5A769A1C1BED8%40KroghPC.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000066;"> I remember the meetings we held there in the old chapel with everyone sitting on the floor, and the small children sitting cross-legged, and falling asleep in the meetings with their heads on the floor in front of them and their legs still crossed. The women nursed their babies openly in the meetings, and the sacrament consisted of pieces of taro, baked bananas, or breadfruit, because bread was not often available. We were often asked to speak without any advanced warning in these meetings, and this necessitated our always having something ready to speak on. Now there are nice pews, an organ, bread, and enough good, knowledgeable members to do most things without relying heavily on the missionaries. I look forward to meeting people in their homes to help them strengthen their resolve to be active in the church. I believe the Polynesians are the pure blood of Israel as suggested by the Book of Mormon, and the reason they are so strongly Christian is because of that heritage. So many have accepted the gospel of Jesus Christ and joined the church, and the church is well thought of now, and experiences much less persecution than in former days. I believe that when they hear the message of the restored gospel they are quick to recognize the “Shepherd’s” voice because they are of His fold. Unfortunately, the customs of the country make it difficult for many to remain faithful, and they go back to their old ways. That’s why we’re here—to bring them back to Christ. My impatience needs to be tempered by the fact that we are now just one month into our mission, and we spent only 5 days in the MTC in Provo, while the young missionaries spend 9 weeks in Provo just learning the language before they come here. I’ll keep working on the patience thing.<br /><br />KAREN: Soooo…… are you ready for another little episode in the continuing saga of “The Krogh Laundry Trials and Tribulations”? No??? Well, just skip ahead then, but I do want to get this down in our record and it does continue to get more and more comical. After the first hand-washing and wringing incident, we planned very carefully to watch for a fully sunny day to accomplish the next washday. That doesn’t mean it wouldn’t rain later, but at least we could be assured there would be no power outage. First thing in the morning, on what appeared to be a very bright day, we took a couple of loads over to the wash house, loaded up two machines, turned them on and noticed the water was still coming in at a trickle. Ooookaaaay, what next? We then noticed a hose hooked up to the adjacent laundry tub and realized that we probably had to help fill the washers with water from the hose in order to get them to fill up before nightfall. We got one filled and started, and then filled the other one and got it on its way. Piece of cake!!! Well……. not until you realize that the washer is probably going to spin all the soapy water out at some point and will need to be filled again in order to rinse the clothes. We took turns checking the machines on and off until it looked like they were ready to be filled again. We repeated the earlier regimen of filling each washer for the rinse and congratulated ourselves when we were finally able to pull clean, spun-damp clothes from the washers with absolutely no wringing on our part. Knowing we had to leave soon, and also knowing it would probably rain while we were gone, we proceeded to hang the first batch of clothes in the laundry room. We had pretty well filled up the lines when John went to get the second batch, so I figured we’d have to hang them over the backs of chairs, etc. in order to get them all dry. When he came back in, quite a bit later and empty-handed, I asked what had gone wrong now. With a silly grin on his face he said, “oh I just hung them out Samoan style.” He led me to the front porch and proudly showed me where he had laid them neatly out on the front sidewalk ‘Samoan style’.<br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio8WCKU3veNxF5Jmy3ekqnCX4Cqrm8TXuXVkNP9P6XENglaDmEWyOs-_FmKxIVQzmDUEGjyHmxtY_rZZCagK_3oa4400OSWtf77PDp6LEkW6n0Z0GWeT7TxJr5Ys4K0sCvvgPiPoTEGw/s1600-h/!cid_2F70E9B0E0314A8DBD7D889205AD7A98%40KroghPC.jpg"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000066;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436505061391777410" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio8WCKU3veNxF5Jmy3ekqnCX4Cqrm8TXuXVkNP9P6XENglaDmEWyOs-_FmKxIVQzmDUEGjyHmxtY_rZZCagK_3oa4400OSWtf77PDp6LEkW6n0Z0GWeT7TxJr5Ys4K0sCvvgPiPoTEGw/s320/!cid_2F70E9B0E0314A8DBD7D889205AD7A98%40KroghPC.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000066;"> For generations before Samoans had clotheslines, all of their laundry was laid out all over the yard, on the grass, and especially on the abundance of black volcanic rock all over the island. The first time I saw it 5 years ago, I thought the laundry had blown off a clothesline. I mentioned it John and he said that’s the way they always do it. Most homes have clotheslines now, but many still use the old time-tested method of spreading them on the warm, clean black rocks, or on cement sidewalks or driveways, if they have them. So, John is now a full fledged Samoan laundress. Fortunately, it did not rain while we were gone that day, and we were able to gather up the dry clothes when we got home. Now….don’t forget to tune in next week for the next laundry tale. Actually, it’s already happened, but I won’t burden you with it this time around. It’s definitely time to end this for now.<br /><br />With love from The Kroghs </span></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>John & Karen Kroghhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08097598934218597824noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7660554378340018126.post-43118946029673596692010-02-05T22:19:00.001-08:002010-02-10T09:47:56.033-08:00<span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;">#3 January 25, 2010<br /><br />After staying in Pesega for almost a week, we packed our little car up to the ceiling and took off for the wharf, where we drove it onto the Ferry for the trip across the open ocean to one of the other Samoan islands called Savai’i. After dropping me off to enter with the other passengers, the car was sandwiched in with all the other vehicles, including large commercial trucks hauling merchandise to the other island.<br /><br /></span><div></div><div><span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"></span></div><div><span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"></span></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEideYbkWOiroa1bVgbBlZ01dNJaWzuk_BbjWPV1OlgE5Lw_NMVfr6SnZ-i6jEwCc2GHLNfYD8Ruv2m6Uj1_jL96Uni4jsMBoNS2SKe7Tq_SFTNYQ-6FqHp810ZV9mUP1RJpdDAT7QI84Q/s1600-h/Ferry.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 180px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436663951604312706" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEideYbkWOiroa1bVgbBlZ01dNJaWzuk_BbjWPV1OlgE5Lw_NMVfr6SnZ-i6jEwCc2GHLNfYD8Ruv2m6Uj1_jL96Uni4jsMBoNS2SKe7Tq_SFTNYQ-6FqHp810ZV9mUP1RJpdDAT7QI84Q/s320/Ferry.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"><br />John squeezed out the driver’s side and joined me in the cabin up above, where we sat in a nice air-conditioned cabin and watched Walt Disney’s “Mulan” with all the other passengers. I actually slept through most of the trip, and gratefully didn’t get seasick. Sister Haleck had given me some ginger pills to try out and said they worked much better than Dramamine for her. They worked for me too.<br /><br />Once we disembarked on Savai’i, we drove through several small villages and on up into the hills where we ended up at the Vaiola Church College compound, (another high school) where we would stay for a month or so until we can find a permanent apartment. We went to Elder and Sister Montgomery’s home, one of many on the compound, and they had fixed us a nice dinner. They are the only other American LDS Senior Missionary couple on the island and work at the Vaiola School training the teachers who do not as yet have teaching certification and assisting them in becoming fully certified, in order to move on to other teaching jobs in the Islands. Several of these teachers have acquired their education so far through the LDS Church Perpetual Education program, where worthy students who cannot afford to go to college are given help with the finances for their education, and then pay it back into the Perpetual Education Fund once they finish their schooling and have a job. The Fund then helps others to find a way to get their educations and help pay for the next generation. (thus, perpetual education) It is an inspired program and thousands of poor, but talented and worthy students in third-world nations all over the world are able to move out of poverty and into situations where they can not only support their own families, but help others as well.<br /><br />What a great couple the Montgomerys are, both quite well educated, but very down-to-earth. After swapping many stories about our lives, we found we have much in common with them. After dinner, they took us over to our next temporary home, a small three-bedroom house, just like the other teachers’ homes on the compound.<br /><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjelP7IBFYerVHk7kkJFECskt94l7tkmh-4MJ6zbl0CsOhGcrRWtZ1NjRSnL4i5Tf4n9SqCMs6mugtCHD4vjAgG2YPXieR_wD6OnADbsFdDzIR2p9L1W2ubJQ5c7IBHCSnsNFYYubOwtQ/s1600-h/Vaiola+House.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 180px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436663883963188178" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjelP7IBFYerVHk7kkJFECskt94l7tkmh-4MJ6zbl0CsOhGcrRWtZ1NjRSnL4i5Tf4n9SqCMs6mugtCHD4vjAgG2YPXieR_wD6OnADbsFdDzIR2p9L1W2ubJQ5c7IBHCSnsNFYYubOwtQ/s320/Vaiola+House.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"><br />There are big dorms for High-school-age boys and girls, and several other buildings that house the cafeteria, offices and classrooms. One of the classrooms, a large typical Samoan Fale (house) is right across the street from our ‘home’. It has a roof, but no walls and there are classes there all day long, rain or shine.<br /><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6ktyIbldz8RTLFdfp9qon6Jg1Av9mCoeqiGGzLUyqBcwcab4RolWTizzex_SMY5jWsLPI3_C1XYe1e8xQM8uYvu6LAxPgaXvulSNAt24-CexmtAGKrYvl5RX0griNxc0BncExIpV0Uw/s1600-h/Fale+classroom.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 180px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436663820742939730" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6ktyIbldz8RTLFdfp9qon6Jg1Av9mCoeqiGGzLUyqBcwcab4RolWTizzex_SMY5jWsLPI3_C1XYe1e8xQM8uYvu6LAxPgaXvulSNAt24-CexmtAGKrYvl5RX0griNxc0BncExIpV0Uw/s320/Fale+classroom.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"> </span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdC-n0eure1fv6cqAKDPoYtwR8AQmE_FbOJzdbjUFwMpQ9pmLuh4J2LfcoN_VsGdYwgqMZbrXm2p6usmjKficLNfwcfXNQZtzmccuSHmuTvn7K0wUbv4w-caHy_DXndFWzjK5ZQE3rlQ/s1600-h/Classroom+in+Fale.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 180px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436663749646978802" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdC-n0eure1fv6cqAKDPoYtwR8AQmE_FbOJzdbjUFwMpQ9pmLuh4J2LfcoN_VsGdYwgqMZbrXm2p6usmjKficLNfwcfXNQZtzmccuSHmuTvn7K0wUbv4w-caHy_DXndFWzjK5ZQE3rlQ/s320/Classroom+in+Fale.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"> The students all wear handsome yellow and blue uniforms and flipflops, or no shoes at all. There is also an elementary school on the campus, but those students are all bussed or driven to school or walk up the hill, barefoot on the gravel road, from a small village down the hill about half a mile. They are beautiful children and though they all speak Samoan, they are required to speak English for everything on campus. Many are learning English for the first time, but they learn fast and their families know that there are no good jobs ahead for Samoans with no English, unless they scrape out an existence from the land or the sea like their parents have had to do. Most of the students are LDS, but there are several non-LDS students whose parents push hard to get their kids into this well-known school. All of the teachers’ children attend the school and we get to see a lot of them around the neighborhood after school hours. One day last week, before school started, it was raining really hard. We walked across the road behind the fale/classroom, large umbrella overhead, and watched a bunch of them play some sort of ball game we didn’t recognize, totally oblivious to the pouring rain, which happens most of the time during this season of the year.<br /><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9FlLGwPIP2htvu1quReTrCU6bqlkv7eX1o8BVF32xVJaESpyFLS-iiQ4Rk49Vzx9CE9jdvzZE-O7Pmv1trXy9CH4fVwxGe2lTBlUA7fTTMmCJL4pAAOVUy1QGJCIW77ALYdv4-6L5tg/s1600-h/Playing+in+rain.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 180px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436663547142461170" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9FlLGwPIP2htvu1quReTrCU6bqlkv7eX1o8BVF32xVJaESpyFLS-iiQ4Rk49Vzx9CE9jdvzZE-O7Pmv1trXy9CH4fVwxGe2lTBlUA7fTTMmCJL4pAAOVUy1QGJCIW77ALYdv4-6L5tg/s320/Playing+in+rain.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"> When it’s raining it’s the most cool, so no wonder they save these really active games for the rain. Our first really big rainstorm here in Viaola was apparently one of the heaviest they’ve had in a long time. Each house has a huge black tank behind the house to collect the rain, their only supply of water. I had suggested to John earlier that I needed to get some distilled water for my C-pap machine and wondered if I’d be able to find it on Savai’i. He just laughed and pointed to the big tank of rain water, which totally overflows during a rainstorm like the one we had last week. While it was pouring that day, he sent me out with an umbrella and a big pan to collect a goodly supply.<br /><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiidhaJhW_MZhN9xoQgTumZ9dtPhf1g_0qAWyejpKT3kYvTBHTyf0KASIjNrPmibIpZRte7paEBv89HQBrYDls54-qi2TjKDkAhfVNCP08l4D4wrhZz4u8_oqeU9j1iBR_q1a7tpzqOvw/s1600-h/Rain+water.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 180px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436663488015951618" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiidhaJhW_MZhN9xoQgTumZ9dtPhf1g_0qAWyejpKT3kYvTBHTyf0KASIjNrPmibIpZRte7paEBv89HQBrYDls54-qi2TjKDkAhfVNCP08l4D4wrhZz4u8_oqeU9j1iBR_q1a7tpzqOvw/s320/Rain+water.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"> The next day after we arrived we were taken around to see three apartments that had been scouted out for us. The first was a really wonderful big three-bedroom house, right on the ocean, but it would cost the Mission a fortune to make it ready. It looked great and was very inexpensive, but it needed major work to get the electricity and plumbing up to code and the Mission would need to furnish it completely. The next one we saw was a small, unfinished one-bedroom house on the grounds of a local hotel. It was probably more realistic for us in terms of size, but was quite a bit more expensive than the first. The hotel would finish and completely furnish it, however, and the rent included utilities and access to the hotel laundry facility in the little building right next door to the house. The third place we saw was sort of out of the way and seemed very dreary to me. It was the same price as the second little house, but did not include utilities. We decided we liked the second one best and submitted our choice to the Mission President to discuss it with the mission Service and Housing people. The hotel owner had told us it would take about two weeks to finish the building, but he didn’t want to start it until he knew he had it rented. So, we had to just wait until the powers-that-be made their decisions.<br /><br />Another part of this new adventure for me is the food. I’ve tasted some Samoan food in the States at Samoan missionary reunions and liked it pretty well. Most of what the common Samoans eat is not as palatable as that food was, not to me anyway. One day in the open market John bought what he thought was a dish he’d had before that was wrapped in taro leaves and baked. When he asked what it was, he thought he heard something different and said I would just love it. When we got it home, warmed up and opened, it turned out to be a moray(sp) eel, which had not even been cleaned (typical Samoan style).<br /><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7zqbuNZrx5F4EbQAXi26rWpFgLjW7IhKdixcO56pLHNLN_DoM1cq2CoYbDt1YUhaTHElyqx0tE90rv36_fFI4ThnkjreJbXaA9zD96_-5_BitGeaxmXWlKRSh5D2jCHjXfTFu0DIR2w/s1600-h/Eel+dad.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 180px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436663410770115266" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7zqbuNZrx5F4EbQAXi26rWpFgLjW7IhKdixcO56pLHNLN_DoM1cq2CoYbDt1YUhaTHElyqx0tE90rv36_fFI4ThnkjreJbXaA9zD96_-5_BitGeaxmXWlKRSh5D2jCHjXfTFu0DIR2w/s320/Eel+dad.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"> </span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYBr_O_n4sBPKCW4bAtyPeMqzFuyHwrM43HtzL4jGli6xZn2J0-YQLzrROePhdIT-eKijswhveLtKdC7JvQ_LqoVKU8zTS2vBOb3IKH_Xm53A_IGnGBGk9WVWH8EVGpTk8gsZOcScSSQ/s1600-h/eel+plate.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 180px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436663336770436994" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYBr_O_n4sBPKCW4bAtyPeMqzFuyHwrM43HtzL4jGli6xZn2J0-YQLzrROePhdIT-eKijswhveLtKdC7JvQ_LqoVKU8zTS2vBOb3IKH_Xm53A_IGnGBGk9WVWH8EVGpTk8gsZOcScSSQ/s320/eel+plate.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;">I about choked. I insisted that if he would clean it up, take the head and fins off and make it restaurant ready, I might be willing to try it. It actually tasted pretty good, but was loaded with zillions of tiny bones. We threw most of it away and doubt we’ll try one again. We did have some really nice tuna a few days later that we bought at the fish market in town and it was really delicious.<br /><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK5wHb8cFdxg-nM2Hz5c0Xc4zsdSYqvjxt6sk0gchFTEkrYXutFJqXlcQikxNKrodSWQEzV4B4H8ndR-hWGfxxHKaXGZMt3fRUHx8eMIXsXAF7hZtb8DdbilBxYY6KgcXHieXIe_5HlA/s1600-h/tuna.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 180px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436664227604825730" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK5wHb8cFdxg-nM2Hz5c0Xc4zsdSYqvjxt6sk0gchFTEkrYXutFJqXlcQikxNKrodSWQEzV4B4H8ndR-hWGfxxHKaXGZMt3fRUHx8eMIXsXAF7hZtb8DdbilBxYY6KgcXHieXIe_5HlA/s320/tuna.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;">We do have potatoes, very few green vegetables except cabbage, lots of taro, breadfruit, some pork and beef and a few other basics. Between our early morning walk/run and little desirable food, I may lose some of those unwanted pounds.<br /><br />Hooray! We finally settled on the lease for our permanent apartment. The Mission President was ready to go with it, as long as I personally felt I would be comfortable living there. I guess they’re not quite as concerned about the comfort of the young missionaries’ digs as they are with the senior couples. After a little more red tape, we were able to let the landlord know that we wanted it. As I said before, it’s a small building on the lovely grounds of a local Hotel. It’s not a big hotel in the usual sense, but a series of small guest houses scattered around a neatly landscaped piece of land along the ocean. Our place is set back behind the regular guest houses, maybe 100 yds from the water, but very nicely situated and secure, where the gate is locked at 10:00 each night, and watched over by a night-watchman—kind of a gated community, of sorts. We’ll be in a very central location, in a village called Lalomalava, just off the main road that goes all the way around the island. Most all of the villages are located along this road and close to the ocean. We were told at first that it would take a couple of weeks to have the place ready, but after seeing the stage of building it’s in right now, I rather doubt that. Especially after Poi, our landlord, was telling us yesterday that the guy who was going to do the work, had to beg off because his wife was overseas and he had to babysit the kids. He hoped to find someone else soon and we hope so too. The house has a nice open living room (or lounge as they call it), dining area and kitchen, one bedroom and a bath. See the “before” pictures here, along with grounds and pool photos, and we’ll send along the “after” pictures when it’s done.<br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn8hPI0Lo785ZLCZgA4CW6WHm0DLqI0oKjcAC0LnRUaebSzCDJdCDVc7k8NY6Hj3u6DiHJAseHTWheY8kxXQVlXVGQQuw1m8kLCUqYksbg3k3VhBjSYXds2P_D-efIA70GTCzdHqb2mg/s1600-h/fale+outside.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 180px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436663204174711746" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn8hPI0Lo785ZLCZgA4CW6WHm0DLqI0oKjcAC0LnRUaebSzCDJdCDVc7k8NY6Hj3u6DiHJAseHTWheY8kxXQVlXVGQQuw1m8kLCUqYksbg3k3VhBjSYXds2P_D-efIA70GTCzdHqb2mg/s320/fale+outside.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"> </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhap2hYvMURVIOGyERRyxQgLi1PaE3ES97V_kkHLE8aLIPjDLYI_0jEYAHkpMZiOz-8U-62Sc8yIEA7FWlqUgWlacIYlxmMoTO-yKemExrdXZpN_NozivLRGWhthwxEbNGTJ77K88_Mcw/s1600-h/fale+inside.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 180px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436663128907015922" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhap2hYvMURVIOGyERRyxQgLi1PaE3ES97V_kkHLE8aLIPjDLYI_0jEYAHkpMZiOz-8U-62Sc8yIEA7FWlqUgWlacIYlxmMoTO-yKemExrdXZpN_NozivLRGWhthwxEbNGTJ77K88_Mcw/s320/fale+inside.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"><br /></span><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcE8S5wPKSqLZn7yPGNmylnun7xL6hIlvtTftATs84nDuJPDwsexb0eJyGcbnozT5Z-R9DPoJL9ujUXizKgKripz2gVKhACu7nFp1lIbA258H-qxgmvzN9kuPg0U5pUojSCj25To33JA/s1600-h/other+fales.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 180px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436663015327107586" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcE8S5wPKSqLZn7yPGNmylnun7xL6hIlvtTftATs84nDuJPDwsexb0eJyGcbnozT5Z-R9DPoJL9ujUXizKgKripz2gVKhACu7nFp1lIbA258H-qxgmvzN9kuPg0U5pUojSCj25To33JA/s320/other+fales.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"><br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvRN4Xg14WdP1cDB4BI7M42B4pD4dBCApZ1bqyDz9TdReqHDeXOZ8TJMbrbufC-PllkaDhz0w4pt8ZTYhWBh5AptFBmcEMZq6DUhvAsdT61Hpmw4egDyOAglUzvCg2nZC5VBxRFEKx4g/s1600-h/pool.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 180px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436662929067159346" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvRN4Xg14WdP1cDB4BI7M42B4pD4dBCApZ1bqyDz9TdReqHDeXOZ8TJMbrbufC-PllkaDhz0w4pt8ZTYhWBh5AptFBmcEMZq6DUhvAsdT61Hpmw4egDyOAglUzvCg2nZC5VBxRFEKx4g/s320/pool.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"> Our rent is actually quite reasonable in light of the fact that it includes utilities. We pay 1200 Samoan tala/month, which is probably about $575--similar in price to others we saw, but they did not include utilities. This will make it easier to budget each month. When we’ve told people that the remodel/build will be done in a couple of weeks, they grin and remind us that it will be done in Samoan time, which mean ‘when it gets done.’ (Hmmm, shades of building a house in Wallsburg). I’m fast learning that patience is one of the virtues I will have been sent to Samoa to learn. Everything, and I mean everything, moves at a much slower pace. I just need to slow down my normal speed and go with the flow.<br /><br />I’m going to end this here and get to bed. We hope to be in town and on the internet by 10:00 a.m. tomorrow, so we’ll have to get an early start to get there in time.<br /><br />Love to all from Elder and Sister Krogh<br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"></span></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>John & Karen Kroghhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08097598934218597824noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7660554378340018126.post-80198265033317637202010-02-04T14:16:00.000-08:002010-02-10T10:10:59.045-08:00<span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;">#2 – January 19, 2010<br /><br />KAREN: Once we finished our week at the MTC, we had three days to finish packing and setting things in order before we left. It felt like we’d been to Heaven and back, having to return home after the atmosphere at the MTC and deal with the final hassle of laundry, storing the last few things out of the way of our new tenants and juggling all of our mission clothes and books, etc. in and out of six different suitcases in order to make the weight limits for the plane without extra luggage charges. Our goal was to leave home at about 10:00 a.m. on Tuesday morning in order to run a couple of errands before we were to meet the family at a restaurant for lunch about 1:00 p.m. They were all there and eating from the buffet when we arrived about 1:30, very hungry and happy to see so many of them one last time before we got on the plane. We had a great lunch and visit, packed into a very small private dining room, and then proceeded to the parking lot where we gathered for a final family prayer before taking off to the airport. That’s when I really lost it. Final goodbyes are always so difficult for me, but this one was to last two years, and more for the grandsons who will go on their missions while we are gone. I can’t imagine what it must have been like years ago when there was no e-mail or skype to keep us so easily connected. From Samoa, letters could take weeks. I’m so happy we don’t have to be out of the family news loop for that long.<br />JOHN: We left SLC on the afternoon of Jan 12th after having met the family for dinner at Golden Corral. Our flight to LA was uneventful. Fortunately we had a long layover (3 hrs.), because we had to catch a shuttle to another terminal and ran into some delays once we ended up at the New Zealand Airlines ticket desk. After standing in a short line for awhile, we were mistakenly sent to another very long line, only to find out we should have been in the first line after all. We got back to the right ticket line, waited our turn, and finally ended up at the weigh-in counter to discover that Delta and New Zealand Air had different weight limits for carry-on baggage. We were overweight and would have to pay on both bags. Our alternative was to unload a bunch of stuff from one bag to the other to make the first one below the limit. Gratefully, we had not used the extended height on our bags, so we were able to cram the second bag really full of the extra things and check that heavier one. We took stuff out right there on the check-in counter scales, juggling our passports, drivers licenses, purse and laptop bag. Once that hassle and our ticket check-in was completed, we got back in the same long line to go through the security check- in, and of course, we both had to be scanned and patted down extra because of our artificial hips. The flight to Samoa was pleasant. The food and service were probably the best of any airline I have been on. We arrived in Samoa to 80-plus degree heat and very high humidity, after a 12 hour flight, at 5:40 a.m. We picked up our bags, checked through Customs quickly, and were met by President and Sister Haleck. They took us to the other end of the island to The Church compound in Pesega (pronounced Pay-sanga) that encompasses the Temple, two stake centers, The Church college (a high school actually)and teachers’ homes, and the Mission home and missionary residences.<br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVrOzV0ZAqn66eY5MDCid7txUZG1NFbt-gwVX36tdeLxWGfT7QRSmSKyVu_pICzhQGHu5Twy8qTZHrDDRZnPUhungzBqTFmwjq5xj7nfv-DZZVM6wgxUlONaraj9vGKmZToo_nAK_gcw/s1600-h/temple.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 215px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 161px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436674618206755778" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVrOzV0ZAqn66eY5MDCid7txUZG1NFbt-gwVX36tdeLxWGfT7QRSmSKyVu_pICzhQGHu5Twy8qTZHrDDRZnPUhungzBqTFmwjq5xj7nfv-DZZVM6wgxUlONaraj9vGKmZToo_nAK_gcw/s320/temple.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;"> On the way, we were informed that we would be going to the island of Savaii to work as fellowshipping missionaries. We were to assist inactive members come back into activity in the church. We were delighted to hear this. At Pesega, we were given an apartment to stay in for a few days until we could get drivers licenses, and buy some items to take with us the next week, when we were to take the ferry to Savaii. During our days in Pesega we had breakfast and dinner with the Halecks, went to town several times to go shopping, went snorkeling with some other senior missionaries, visited the area that had been hit by the tsunami in September, etc. I had lost my drivers license somewhere on the trip and I had to go back a second time, after Karen had obtained hers the day before. I went into the license office, after sitting on the bench outside and waiting my turn, rather than step up to the head of the line like most palagis (pa-long-ees - white folks) do. I also talked Samoan to people on the bench and in the office, and I think this helped me get my Samoan license without taking the test, even though I had lost my American license.<br />The devastation from the tsunami was sad to see. Many homes were partially re-built, but many were still just crumbled foundations. A newly finished Stake Center was also demolished, with just the outside walls left standing.<br /></span><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyfRgWeCx1bgf0cpodCkA-n3K9Vn9pjItAySX_oYegOVuiDiFPLfj4G9_-rmtowOnmQ2hxNYXtRNmJ1fAk_g-vFXj4yie28eggbvJbsIHGuQIf-TuhYD-rccLewJIuBwZf2wEr34kQVQ/s1600-h/tsunami+church.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 215px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 161px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436674548348204674" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyfRgWeCx1bgf0cpodCkA-n3K9Vn9pjItAySX_oYegOVuiDiFPLfj4G9_-rmtowOnmQ2hxNYXtRNmJ1fAk_g-vFXj4yie28eggbvJbsIHGuQIf-TuhYD-rccLewJIuBwZf2wEr34kQVQ/s320/tsunami+church.jpg" /></span></a> <div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXa3BxrwKp8CkhDnSTUUUmSU6mvbEwZd7u13fFfWOgoci7sdyRlR0YZY0B9J-hjoxwy5Ci2k7s9V45RbYOsPN37ghnLeahiutl7vTZbUIcfzTese3-9c59nRwtBJsGCoVc96zOgs8nzA/s1600-h/tsunami+2.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 215px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 161px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436674479714405042" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXa3BxrwKp8CkhDnSTUUUmSU6mvbEwZd7u13fFfWOgoci7sdyRlR0YZY0B9J-hjoxwy5Ci2k7s9V45RbYOsPN37ghnLeahiutl7vTZbUIcfzTese3-9c59nRwtBJsGCoVc96zOgs8nzA/s320/tsunami+2.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;"> </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6KkZKfp98dC9vyjeAljMH3IyvI7yYhyZv-pv2VyQSAyq3MAJw9fK34Ctq_rTgPeWlyGeWTzqXojHQQyvXN6WFmu7jsCrqOOZqy9OnIBVftSP2qlTUAxIG5-EoFfEbJGiEWW4K9pl4Sg/s1600-h/tsunami+3.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 215px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 161px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436674415407128018" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6KkZKfp98dC9vyjeAljMH3IyvI7yYhyZv-pv2VyQSAyq3MAJw9fK34Ctq_rTgPeWlyGeWTzqXojHQQyvXN6WFmu7jsCrqOOZqy9OnIBVftSP2qlTUAxIG5-EoFfEbJGiEWW4K9pl4Sg/s320/tsunami+3.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;">There were several tent cities along the route, where people are still living after 4 months. Much green foliage had re-grown over the bare earth. When we went snorkeling later in the week, the coral in the water was all broken up, especially close to the beach. There were still many fish in the water, and the water was a beautiful aquamarine color and just slightly cooler than body temperature. I saw a sea snake and knowing how poisonous they were, I didn’t touch it.<br />We went to an English-speaking ward on Sunday, and then had a great dinner with some of the other missionaries at Elder and Sister Bell’s apartment. (They are the missionary couple who run the Mission President’s office) We had been to the temple earlier in the week at an English-speaking session. I was given a headset to listen in Samoan. I understood it quite well, much to my delight. When Karen and I came here for the Temple dedication in 2005, I didn’t understand the session very well at all, so my years of studying had paid off. Our trip on the ferry to Savaii went very well with no seasickness at all.<br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;">KAREN: John was right about our flights, uneventful and pleasant. Once we got past Security in LA, we grabbed a quick hamburger at a Burger King and made our way over to our gate to wait for our flight to leave for Samoa about 10:00 pm. It was direct to Samoa, so there were many Samoans in the waiting area. We met three young native Samoan missionaries, straight out of the MTC, but on their way to serve their missions in Tonga, with a short layover in Samoa before moving on. We also met another native Samoan young man who had just completed his two-year mission in Oakland, California, and was returning home to Samoa. He was decked out in the usual mission uniform (dark suit, white shirt and tie, a big grin and a hearty handshake, not to mention several strands of mini-candy bars made up into leis piled around his neck, a farewell send-off from members in Oakland.<br /></span><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTmJODja_P0UoGn0mZb9xMl9rf6MlVZ8rf6x6DotzVMTGvAGapfeif0fpE0L6zO2k_CiBg49v3Xddi2lF1sS30f9q9srmufkb7ZtV0WMSnEGUZHDrJEPzJ6MGblIinYl01FGh1P3DOCA/s1600-h/elders.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 215px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 161px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436674301472747026" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTmJODja_P0UoGn0mZb9xMl9rf6MlVZ8rf6x6DotzVMTGvAGapfeif0fpE0L6zO2k_CiBg49v3Xddi2lF1sS30f9q9srmufkb7ZtV0WMSnEGUZHDrJEPzJ6MGblIinYl01FGh1P3DOCA/s320/elders.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;"> After we had been sitting down next to him and visiting for a while, he presented us each with a lei for around our necks. We felt a little silly wandering around the airport wearing the candy leis, but didn’t have the heart to remove them because he had been so delighted to give them to us. Even after we got on the plane, he sat across the aisle from us, so we didn’t actually take them off until the next morning, after sleeping on them for several hours. Needless to say, they got all melted inside the packages, but they tasted just as great when we started nibbling on them a couple of days later.</span><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 215px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 161px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436674223375692642" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPtH9HKwUAXgXwAIoqwZx_tr7Bdrd18K4CUIqJ2r_Di8EzDU0zbNiKR_Bkp0K7GYpvYOzyUVKFUk5J2JUcnaXUKs14jBHvnn21oeA5-1Y0yQ2WF7wkiPdhUIoO2kCY-tPA3B8WPiQcVg/s320/candy+leis.jpg" /></span><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;">(This paragraph is out-of-sequence, and taking place a week later in Vaiola, and it’s happening as I write) I’m having a new kind of experience right now. I woke up about 5:00 a.m., after having another hard night of sleep because of the all-night rain, and the room was pitch black and I mean BLACK. It took me a while to figure out that the street light that usually illuminates the bedroom was black also. I got up and tried the light switch and nothing happened. Aha! A power outage. I couldn’t go back to sleep, so I figured I’d just go in and work on this blog segment, because I couldn’t read or anything. Well, finding my way into the living room to get the laptop was a real chore, because there is no light anywhere. At home, where it is plenty dark up in the mountains during a power outage, I don’t remember ever having this kind of darkness. Kind of spooky. Even working on the laptop with the lighted screen, I have to tip the lid periodically to see the keys when I move my hands off. Weird………..I’d better add flashlights to the shopping list. I just thought of something. School starts here on the compound this morning, after being off for ‘summer’ break. I’m told that the school mornings start with music playing all over the compound for awhile before school. I wonder if the power will be back on in time. A lot of the classes are skyped in from New Zealand, so that could be a problem too. Hmm. I wonder what the day will bring for the first day of school.<br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;">Okay, I’d better get back to the project at hand—this journal entry. We had a great flight from LA direct to Samoa, about 12 hours. Unlike most of the budget-slashing US airlines, we had lots of snacks, drinks, a lovely supper that night and breakfast the next morning. I slept very well, after some pretty short nights prior to the trip, but John didn’t sleep much at all, which is par-for the-course with him. He can’t sleep in a car, train, bus, or plane while it’s in motion. Just about the time breakfast was all cleared up, it was time to land, about 5:30 a.m. on Wednesday, January 13, 2010. When we stepped off the plane, we were hit with an enormous blast of hot air—Samoan heat and HUMIDITY. We had left home in very dry Utah the day before with a foot of snow on the ground and about 20 degree temperatures. What a switch. It was still pretty dark outside at that time, so we couldn’t see much beyond the lights of the Airport. After collecting our luggage and going through Customs, we left the building to find President and Sister Haleck, our mission president and his wife, waiting to pick us up. We recognized them from their picture in our missionary packet, and we had met them very briefly 5 years before on our trip to Samoa for the LDS Temple Dedication. It was light outside by then and we could start to see the beautiful area surrounding the airport—all very lush and green with palm trees and flowers everywhere, just like we remembered it. Our huge stack of luggage just barely fit in their car, but we made it with some small carry-ons on our laps. It’s probably about a 45-minute ride back to Pesega, where the mission home is located just outside of Apia, the capital city. On the ride in, President Haleck informed us that we would be stationed over on the Island of Savaii, which John had been yearning for. It’s a much slower-paced island than Upolo, where the capital is, and more typically Samoan. We were taken to a small duplex in the Church College compound where we would be staying for the next 5 days, until we were scheduled to take the Ferry to Savaii the following Tuesday. We would then move temporarily into this little house where we are now in Vaiola, until we could find an apartment down around the villages by the beach. It sounds pretty tough doesn’t it? WELL, SOMEBODY HAS TO DO IT!!<br /></span><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPUMweo4bHjoGKUMSqAPf8DmV47T52qYHNnAWYb2BEWxqr53vJbmXXtQLfb-BGPnDCGdG9qPxDtoqjlhDSDAB1MMNtKnPa966sAyC17IQRUwsIb5quA8SoP8PGSaA9eXFnWxNPIyw4YA/s1600-h/upolo+house.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 215px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 161px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436674115189519026" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPUMweo4bHjoGKUMSqAPf8DmV47T52qYHNnAWYb2BEWxqr53vJbmXXtQLfb-BGPnDCGdG9qPxDtoqjlhDSDAB1MMNtKnPa966sAyC17IQRUwsIb5quA8SoP8PGSaA9eXFnWxNPIyw4YA/s320/upolo+house.jpg" /></span></a> <div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDRq2uUefYbKiITWRIajK1kV4E_0ThuL_SCAo8oxn4vxwSDE8a5MToVDXDjtQP5axpuOnNZzmmRjPJrIB8FmMIJQO63TV0nvCeNLfkVQ4LRG7oBNTzh4At83Ib1ojH-uzZTytxxn0ebQ/s1600-h/car.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 215px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 161px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436674052575778914" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDRq2uUefYbKiITWRIajK1kV4E_0ThuL_SCAo8oxn4vxwSDE8a5MToVDXDjtQP5axpuOnNZzmmRjPJrIB8FmMIJQO63TV0nvCeNLfkVQ4LRG7oBNTzh4At83Ib1ojH-uzZTytxxn0ebQ/s320/car.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;">Parked across the street from our unit was what will be our car for the duration of the mission. It’s a nice new little white compact car, a Hyundai Tuscon, with the steering wheel on the right-hand side of the car (Yes! and whooooa!), and we will be required to drive on the left side of the road (whoooa again).. We’d gotten a taste of that as we drove home from the airport in the Haleck’s car and it felt very strange. We were taken that day to get our new drivers’ licenses by the finance secretary, Elder Bell, who would walk us through the process. The first thing that happened when we got to the license office was that we realized neither of us had our Utah licenses on us. We’d had them out when we checked in at airport, and because our arms were loaded with carry-ons, we’d stuff them in John’s coat pocket, which was back in the apartment. We had to traipse back to the duplex, where I found mine right away, but after a lengthy search, John never did find his. It was decided that I would go ahead and get my new Samoan license and be the family chauffeur (whoooa a third time) until John was able get his, probably after having to take a test. I was able to get my license by just showing them my Utah license and filling out some papers. Then we went back to the college and tried to figure out what had happened to that lost license. We mentally retraced our steps from the last time John had had it, while we were juggling luggage around in LA to make the weight limit for New Zealand Airlines. We remember that he put both of our licenses and passports in his pocket in the flurry. He did finally take his coat off when we were getting seated in the plane and laid it out in the overhead compartment. It could have fallen out then. Also, as we were moving our luggage around on a cart in Customs, he had thrown his coat on top of the suitcases, because he certainly didn’t want to put it on with all the heat. It could have fallen out then, as well. When we were over in the mission office, we found out that the three Samoan missionaries who were on the plane with us and would be flying on to Tonga, had somehow missed their flight and would not be able to get another for a few days. So a couple of young missionaries serving there in Pesega were going to go pick them up at the airport and would check around there to see if John’s license had been turned in to Lost and Found. The only thing they were able to retrieve at the airport were the three disgruntled missionaries, who would have to come back and double up with the local elders until they could catch another flight. We just gave up looking for the license and I took John back the next day to get his new one. </span></div><span style="color:#000066;"><div><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">The people in the Mission office warned him that he would probably have to take the test, because without an existing license they’d have no way of knowing whether he could drive or not. When we went with Elder Bell the day before, he walked us right past a row of benches full of Samoans waiting outside to get into the license office. We didn’t think much of it at the time until we’d finished getting my license, and then we realized that we had jumped way ahead of the others in line. Maybe it’s expected that the palagis will always go ahead, but we were very uncomfortable about it after. When we went back the next day, John refused to go ahead and waited in line for a half hour or so just shooting the breeze in Samoan with the others in line. Once it was his turn to get to the first desk, he had a nice little Samoan chat with the clerk, who then filled out John’s papers, happily stamped them and sent him on his way, new license in hand with no test. He had just charmed his way through it all. It was really something to see, and greatly amazed everybody back at the mission office when they heard about it.<br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size:130%;">(I just have to interject another little story in right here, even though it’s out of sequence, but it relates to the out-of-sequence paragraph I snuck in earlier in this segment.) I had mentioned that I had awakened to a blackout here at the school. It had been storming all night. My plan for today was to get our laundry done, which was long overdue. I realized that with the power out, the washers in the wash house wouldn’t work. So we busied ourselves with other projects, until we heard the loud speaker at the school come on. We checked our own lights, and sure enough, the power was back on. I gathered up a large load of laundry, carted it over to the wash house and loaded up two big batches. When I started to fill them, I noticed that the water was coming in very slowly, so I slipped back to our place and grabbed my language book to study and wait for the washers to fill, before I put the soap in. When I got back to the wash house, the water had stopped running completely. I pushed every button I could, but couldn’t get any more water to come on. I went back to the house and called the Montgomerys (the only other American missionary couple on this island, who are serving a special Church Education mission here at the school) and asked if there was a trick to getting the washers going. Elder ‘M’ said that the power that was on now was just the auxiliary generator and would not be enough to run the washers properly. Oooh great!!! I had two washers full of clothes, soaked with just enough water to make them really heavy. I went back and got John and he helped me unload the washers and carry the soggy clothes back to the house, where we proceeded to wash them by hand in a wash tub in a laundry room there in our house. It probably took the two of us about three hours to hand wash, wring, then take to the kitchen sink to rinse and wring again twice, while the next batch was washed in the wash tub.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXBbw1mDtv2aPHX3z-noIbd4Id53wEjQ1mrvhdZerTDc1qSI-FvRpovbaJ72gYmeFKhKz68brmwk6gbcML8BNyPoDJU3P4bAYcnQGEJjepQm6IXsisxptb_AhpUkbZSxrwHqUZiewabw/s1600-h/wringing.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 215px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 161px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436673879742882354" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXBbw1mDtv2aPHX3z-noIbd4Id53wEjQ1mrvhdZerTDc1qSI-FvRpovbaJ72gYmeFKhKz68brmwk6gbcML8BNyPoDJU3P4bAYcnQGEJjepQm6IXsisxptb_AhpUkbZSxrwHqUZiewabw/s320/wringing.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;"> I can remember some times in our early marriage when we were poor struggling students with 5 kids, including 2 babies in diapers (not disposable), and our washer would break down and we couldn’t afford to fix it. I had to do our laundry by hand in the bathtub. John, of course, was gone most of the time in classes or studying and could not help me. Well, he got a dose of it today. Gratefully, he assisted me through this process, or it would have taken me all day long to get it done. I doubt he’s ever done much hand laundry, other than maybe a pair of sox or underwear when we’d run out on a trip. I had learned early on that if you don’t really wring the water out of the clothes tightly, instead of just squeezing it in a ball, a lot a soapy residue is left in and they take forever to drip dry. John had to be given ‘wringing lessons’ in order to be very efficient as a laundress. We wrang(?), or wringed(?), or whatever the past tense of ‘wring’ is, until our arms were worn out and we were soaked all down the front of us. I ended up with a big blister on my thumb in the process and poor John had to finish the wringing while I hung the clothes on a makeshift clothesline that John had strung? (strung, strang or stringed(?)—whatever) out across and crisscrossed in the laundry room. It was just pouring rain, so we couldn’t hang them outside. </span></div><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjG6p3LmXUw5zfuHM2f-SjgNm7CMjnVl1MCf71tTxPjCQ7Ha0okzCk2OPjzysIFSM_q2dNhajv9x4EQdSAHnjE2pZe7WvAYD_NtHQWW9Xhu52gzaCA8zwLAtR-q6_pvJftxARgW0Mtaw/s1600-h/clothesline.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 215px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 161px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436673780784438626" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjG6p3LmXUw5zfuHM2f-SjgNm7CMjnVl1MCf71tTxPjCQ7Ha0okzCk2OPjzysIFSM_q2dNhajv9x4EQdSAHnjE2pZe7WvAYD_NtHQWW9Xhu52gzaCA8zwLAtR-q6_pvJftxARgW0Mtaw/s320/clothesline.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;"> We ran out of clothespins half-way through, so the rest of the clothes had to be draped over the line doubled up and would take twice as long to dry. The drying process is extra long anyway, because of the humidity, so who knows when we’ll have clean, dry clothes to wear. You’d think that once we got the clothes washed, wrung, rinsed and wrung again twice and finally hung that our work would have been done, right? WRONG!!! We had to go back and squeeze out the bottom of each hung-up piece, where the water was dripping onto the floor, and keep going back and mopping up the floor until the dripping finally stopped. (well, that was a fun little detour wasn’t it? Everyone in the world is dying to know how the Kroghs do their laundry, I’m sure.) Please forgive me for having this whole laundry story completely out of whack with the so-called continuing saga of the Kroghs in Samoa, but I’m not very good at this blog/cut/paste/move thing yet and I’m afraid if I try to move it to where it belongs in time, it will end up somewhere in cyberspace. </span></div><span style="color:#000066;"><div><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Now, where was I? Oh, yes--back to business. Now that John had his license and was able to drive on the left side of the road, it was my turn to back-seat drive (or passenger-seat-on-the-left drive, in this case) which he had been doing with me for 24 hrs. “ Whoa! You’re going off the edge of the pavement on this side!” or “You can’t pull out yet—you’ll get smashed broadside by the guy coming at you from the right.” or “Watch out!! That guy coming around the bend is going to hit you head on!!—oooops, sorry, he’s on the other side of the road.” If you’ve never done this, try to envision yourself making your left turns by just hugging the edge to the left as you turn, or pulling out into the traffic across in front of cars coming from the right in order to make a right turn. Needless to say, I was happy to relinquish the driving to him and he’s actually doing it quite naturally by now. I haven’t driven since he took over, but I suppose I should take a turn now and then, just to get the hang of it, especially the rules about who to yield to, which is still very confusing to me. </span></div><div><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">My goodness, I’ve gone on and on again. Please forgive my ramblings. There are so many new experiences coming at us, it’s hard to say it in just a few words—well, for me, that is. I’m still at least a week behind. I think we’ll sign off for now though and give you a rest and me some time to figure out how to add some snapshots to this epistle. I haven’t done that yet, and even though Kelly wrote very detailed instructions for me, I expect it will take some time for me to get it right.<br />Love to all from the Missionary Kroghs</span></span></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>John & Karen Kroghhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08097598934218597824noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7660554378340018126.post-24541015056107631482010-01-18T12:55:00.000-08:002010-02-10T09:49:25.989-08:00<span style="color:#003300;"><span style="font-size:130%;">#1 – January 18, 2010<br /></span><br /></span><span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;">KAREN: We finally entered the MTC on Monday morning, January 4, 2010, after several weeks, or months for that matter, of intense preparation. We started the mission application process in about June. Contrary to common belief, you don’t just ‘send in your mission papers.’ First you fill out all the forms—one set for John and one for Karen—which is pages and pages of questions on the internet. You do your personal research--which includes mega-memory power--get your appointments made for doctor, dentist, health dept. (for shots), the Sheriff’s office (for a good citizenship verification), etc. and go about the process of discovering what it will take to get you healthy enough to be considered for a mission. (NOTE: It’s very possible--highly probable in fact--that the aforementioned ‘mega-memory power’ has been so severely taxed by this point that I may have the chronological order of all this whole process a little out of order. Suffice it to say that most of what is described has happened at some point in time, in some order or other, between June and September, 2009). Once the original internet questionnaires are completed and checked off the list, a whole new set of questions comes up based on how you’ve answered ‘yes’ or ‘no’ on the first set of questions. If your ‘yes or no’ answers have indicated that there might be even the slightest chance of you having a physical ailment or condition that could make a difference in whether the church sends you out as a missionary to the farthest reaches of a third-world country, the front doorstep of the closest-to-home medical center, somewhere in between, or no mission at all, then they need more information before you can proceed in the application process. When I say ‘more’ I mean moooooooooore. Each little question that indicates a problem requires several pages of questions to clarify your condition. If there are 7 or 8 such little questions, then that number, multiplied by several pages each, takes another several hours, if not days, to complete. It’s possible that more tests or more specific forms from doctors, or both, will be required before you can be considered a healthy enough specimen to be turned loose In the world.<br />After physical exams, from multiple doctors, required tests, dental work, shots and more shots, and forms filled out by all law enforcement, dental, health and medical experts in our behalf, the Bishop of our Ward enters the picture, goes over our forms, interviews us both and then sends everything on to the Stake President. (for those not acquainted with common Mormon jargon, Wards and Stakes are geographical areas of division, with a Ward being like a local parish and a Stake being a larger district, made up of about 8 to 10 wards. Each ward has an ecclesiastical leader called a Bishop, and each stake is presided over by a Stake Presidency (a President and two counselors.) The Stake organization checks everything out with our application and an appointment is made for a final interview with the Stake President. We had such difficulty coordinating our schedule and the President’s busy itinerary, that acquiring an appointment with him seemed almost impossible. Luckily, as we were driving away from church one Sunday, President Nelson was just getting out of his car in the parking lot, saw us, and waved us over. We rolled down the car window and he apologized for being so difficult to catch, asked us if our health was good, said “I know you’re worthy and able”, (he happens to live in our town and knows us well) and waved us on with his blessings. That was it--a two minute interview in the parking lot and our papers could be sent on to Church Headquarters in Salt Lake. (We had expected a very formal and lengthy interview in his office) We laughingly waved goodbye and drove off, knowing that once our papers were sent to the Church, where a decision would be made of where to send us, we could be looking for a Mission Call within the next couple of weeks (a Mission Call is an official letter from the Church, calling us to a specific area of the world, and telling us when to report to the Missionary Training Center (MTC) in Provo, Utah).<br />Anyone in Mormon culture knows that the day of receipt of a Mission Call is a big day indeed. The letter is seldom opened immediately, but is held patiently until all interested family members and friends that can be easily and quickly called together arrive at the appointed gathering place, with digital and video cameras ready to record the great opening event. It can take from 2 to 48 hrs for all that to happen sometimes. Our family had been alerted ahead of a possible delivery of our Mission call within a week or two, always on a Wednesday. Because our family is so spread out, we found a nice little park in Lehi, Utah, a very central location, where we reserved a pavilion for a pot-luck picnic dinner. Once everyone had arrived with cameras at the ready, we opened our letter and read it out loud. A great cheer went up from our crowd as we announced that we had been called to the Samoa Apia Mission. Everyone knew that Samoa was absolutely our first choice because John had served in Samoa as a young missionary way back in 1955 - 1958, before we met. When you fill out your mission papers, you are asked if you have any preferences, but it is well known that not everyone goes where they choose. We were prepared to be sent anywhere else in the world, and would gladly have gone, but were happily granted our first wish. We received the letter on September 16th and were invited to make our way to the MTC on Monday morning, January 4th, 2010, which gave us a little over 3-1/2 months to prepare ourselves to be gone from home, family, friends and country for almost two years.<br />Our delight in knowing where we were headed, and when we would leave, soon gave way to the reality of making certain our lives were left in order while we were gone. We were fortunate in that we had already made arrangements for a young couple, just newly married this past summer, to stay in our home and be caretakers of our property while we are gone. Their folks are our good friends from up the road. Our children have complicated lives of their own in different parts of the state, but were willing to take turns coming to Wallsburg once each week to check on things. This alternate arrangement is so much better for all of us. Because our home is sort of isolated up in the mountains, it would be easy for somebody to find out we are gone and come in and rob us blind. We feel much more comfortable knowing there will be someone there all the time.<br />Some of the other issues that had to be dealt with were as follows: getting everything ready for income taxes for two years; having all mail re-routed or forwarded to our daughter and making arrangements to have her pay all our bills each month; setting up power-of-attorney forms with different children who are attending to various financial and real estate matters; ordering meds for several months at a time and having them shipped to us as we need them over two years; making certain our estate planning and family trust were in order and appointing co-executors for our trust and wills; setting up banking procedures so that sources of income are sent directly to our bank and ready to be transferred to our bank in Samoa periodically for our living expenses; and on and on and on. We had long lists of things that had to be done around the house or on the property. We tried to prioritize the list so that the most important things would get done and those with lowest priority would just have to wait until we get home in two years. We worked hard 24/7 for weeks and crossed off the highest priorities in time to leave for the MTC on Jan. 4th. Because we were able to come home each night after 12-hr training days at the MTC, we were able to pick away at a few other items in the evenings.<br />Since we needed language training, at least ‘sister Krogh’ did, we were fortunate to meet with a wonderful Samoan tutor, brother Papaloa Ete, at the MTC about 3 times per week in November and December. John has worked pretty hard the past several years brushing up on his Samoan and is fairly fluent, so the tutor spent a good deal of his time with me. Besides having an excellent command of both Samoan and English, as well as Samoan culture, he is a very spiritual man and had a great influence on us both in that respect. Samoan is supposedly one of the easier languages to learn, but with the combination of poor hearing, a 71-year-old brain and the stress of all the preparation, Karen struggled to get much accomplished. After becoming bogged down with all the rules and grammar, it was decided that we would focus on some basic scenarios that we would be confronted with in Samoa, like meeting people at church, going shopping, asking for directions, etc. We would memorize the Samoan conversations and then practice switching back and forth asking and answering questions. That was time better spent for me and less stressful. That’s not saying I’m really great with those scenarios, but I believe it will become a little easier to study and focus once we’re in the mission field.<br />JOHN: Our experience at the MTC was incredible. The spirit of the place is like no other place we’ve been and we loved being there. The training could be quite challenging, but we learned a lot about what we would probably be spending most of our time doing on our mission. Our official calling is “member and leader support” and probably consists of finding, fellowshipping and teaching less-active members and assisting brand new members of the church as they make the transition from investigator to convert. Our instructors were young recently returned missionaries in their 20s and old folks like us who had recently completed mission calls throughout the world. We had one General Authority of the church speak to us one evening too. Our group consisted of about 30 couples, and many of them had served at least one mission before. They were going all over the world, with some going to proselyte, some to do office work, some to teach in the church’s educational system, and many going to do humanitarian service, and all at their own expense. We feel so fortunate to be able to afford to go, especially these days when many older couples have had to go back to work just to make ends meet financially. Probably our most spiritual experience occurred when we were trying to write up a lesson plan to teach another couple who had been acting out the role of an inactive couple who had strayed away from the church and from God’s laws. We didn’t agree at all on our approach and had to finally go into a remote room to talk and then to pray about it before we realized the right way to proceed. As it turns out, John just plunged in when Karen hesitated in preparing a plan and then she didn’t feel good about the plan. What we finally decided to do after our prayer was go back to the very basic premise that God loves us and wants us to be happy and that doing His will brings about that happiness. We realized that once a person lets the spirit guide him, that spirit will help him overcome whatever problem he may have. He simply needs to study, pray, and keep the commandments, and then ask sincerely for help with the problem. There will undoubtedly be many other times when we will not agree and need to ask the Lord’s help in finding the best way to proceed.<br />KAREN: I just want to add a couple of other thoughts as I look back on that week at the MTC. First - DITTO to everything John mentioned above. Second - going back to the experience we had teaching the other couple, where we didn’t agree on how to approach someone (who probably wouldn’t be interested in hearing from the missionaries anyway) was a real eye-opener for us in terms of how our companionship as missionaries was going to work differently than how it had worked for us as a team in our everyday life (for over 50 years, I might add, and not always with the best result). As we were discussing, and disagreeing, about how to prepare a lesson for these folks, our young instructor, probably no more than 23 years old, approached us and asked if he could help. We explained our dilemma and he very kindly and maturely pulled out a scripture or quote that suggested that we might come to a more unified solution if we were to pray together and ask for The Lord’s spirit to assist us in coming up with an agreeable plan. Well…., duh!!!! How simple is that??? We’ve been praying together for years and we’ve also had ‘discussions’ and tried to solve problems as a team for years, but only a team of two hard-headed people with their own opinions. Some of those discussions might have been helped along with a little more help from a ‘third member’ on that team. Anyway, it was a profound awakening for us, and a sweet solution once we gave it the test. Amazingly, our final resolution it was also very well received by our so-called ‘investigator couple’ who had expected us to come back very judgmentally and start preaching at them. Third (oops, I said a couple didn’t I? Oh well, these others were great memories too) – The meeting with the general authority was inspirational, but the thing I remember most about it was the experience of sitting in that huge hall, surrounded by over 600 young, 19-21 year-old, exuberant new missionaries and singing “Called to Serve” (a rousing Mormon missionary hymn) at the top of our lungs. It was mind-boggling and humbling all in one package (goose-bumps and tears galore). Fourth (and last) – the enormous dining hall at the MTC, which fed us senior couples, and all of those other young bottomless pits, three meals a day, was a sight and sound to behold. Everyone is out of class for an hour-and-a-half, relaxed, hungry and ready to share all their ideas and feelings at the same time--a cacophony of voices, laughter, clanging plates and trays and a totally joyful place to be. Most young Elders (Hmmm, is that an oxymoron? All missionary males are addressed as “Elder”, no matter what their age), anyway, most young elders, besides having several plates of entrees, a salad, a roll or two, 2-3 drinks, and desserts, would often have a heaping bowl of Cheerios or Lucky Charms and milk to top it off, lunch and dinner as well at breakfast. Such grown men, taking two years out of their lives, at their own expense, going out into the world to serve the Lord, but still such little boys in some ways. What a miracle!!!<br />This will end this epistle for now. Sorry it’s so long and verbose, but it will be doubling as our journal for this mission and we wanted to add our experiences from the very beginning. The next segments, hopefully, will be shorter and interlaced with photos. We were so busy up to this point, that picture-taking hardly entered our minds. We’ve actually been in Samoa now for five days, but we’ve been totally tied up with preparing to move to another Island, shopping for furnishings for an apartment we’ll be hunting for during a short stay in a church school guest house over in Savai’i. We have a lot to show and tell, but it will all have to wait until after we’ve loaded up our car and made the 1 hour-plus trip on the ferry tomorrow, and gotten settled, although just temporarily again.<br />Much love from Elder and Sister Krogh.</span>John & Karen Kroghhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08097598934218597824noreply@blogger.com10