Adventures in Paradise 36

Adventures in Paradise 36

Kia Orana, everyone!  Our excellent adventure continues with some thoughts concerning the passage of time and those things that we will miss about our second home, Rarotonga. Twelve weeks ago, I wrote a blog about what home feels like to me. I admitted to feeling pangs of homesickness and that blog focused on those things that were constantly in my thoughts.  Items and events that may seem mundane to others were dear to my heart. I missed snow, and a cold glass of milk. I reminisced about football games, live theater and autumn leaves. These were pieces of the puzzle that spoke of home to me.

Now twelve short weeks later, the calendar tells me that we are now at our half-way mark. As of next Monday, we will have less time here that we have already spent. How is that possible? Where did the time go? How could the days have passed so quickly? My perspective has changed from those early days when eighteen months seemed like an eternity. Now my heart tells me that eighteen months is not long enough. I find myself taking more photos and committing more sweet experiences to memory. So, I thought you might like to have a sense of what our second home feels like to us and what we will miss dearly as we are forced onto the plane in March. Mentally, fit these puzzle pieces together, and you will have a sense of what this island home feels like to us.

                            Liquid black eyes, barefooted children, swaying palms,
                                                      dodging falling coconuts

Flowers in your hair, black pearls, papaya smoothies

High tide, low tide and knowing the difference

Smoke from underground ovens, a full moon rising over the mountains, starlit skies

30 mph speed limits, scooter traffic jams, open-bed trucks packed with passengers

Roosters in the morning, roosters at night, roosters all day long

Flip flops, welcome eis, and colorful clothing

Drummers, dancers and ukuleles

Kindness, fresh fruit left on our doorstep, coconut milk

Saturday market, greeting friends, Kia Orana, Metaki Maata

Netball, rugby, shouting fans, playing barefoot

Drenching rains, rainbows, the sound of the surf, walks on the beach

Seashell collections on the veranda, hermit crabs, clams

Tivaivais, island artists, dance contests, native culture

The world’s best chocolate doughnuts (2.00) beetroot on burgers, taro

Spectacular sunsets and sunrises, humidity

Wild orchids for a wedding cake, sounds of a falling coconut outside your window

Beautiful children, beautiful children, beautiful children

Snorkeling (yes, we are allowed) colorful fish, sailing ships

Kai Kais , wedding feasts, holiday feasts, feasts for no reason

Baptisms on our beach, marriages on our beach, children on our beach

Canoe races, canoe carving, beautiful outrigger canoes

Kisses on the right cheek, kisses on both cheeks, kisses hello and goodbye

I could go on, but again you get the picture, or I should say our picture. These are many of the pieces that make Rarotonga the paradise puzzle that it is. What part could be left out and still make the puzzle complete? Nothing!

Today, I made my second wedding cake. I had only to mention that I was going to bake one and a friend offered home-grown orchids to decorate it. Someone surprised the bride with a wedding dress that she had not expected. Still others will bring food that the bride and her family did not have to cook and we are betting that everyone will go home with leftovers. That’s the way that it is here.

For the sports-minded, we mentioned netball. This is the Cook Island version of basketball, but it  is played only by females. There are no backboards, only nets on poles. You may not dribble and the game consists mostly of players passing to each other, with only two team members being allowed to shoot.

Many of you may be familiar with rugby, but perhaps not the Cook Islands Seven’s version. No pads, no equipment, no time-outs, no stopping, no kidding! The Seven’s version is seven men on a team and seven minute halves. This game is not for weaklings and even the spectators are worn out at the end. Oh, and players under sixteen are not allowed to wear cleats, so they play barefooted!

We have experienced thoughtfulness and kindness from our friends. They have shared the bounties of the island with us. We have mentioned deliveries of pork and bananas, mangos and papayas. Now it is avocado season and it reminds me a little of home when the zucchini are ripe. There is only so much one can do and so much guacamole one can make with softball-sized avocados. It is our privilege to have such kind and sharing friends. We should also note, here, that these same friends help each other. Just like at home this help is administered quietly and without fanfare. We appreciate their simple acts of kindness and will miss them when we leave. As we move into the next nine months, we will try to slow down those sunrises and sunsets. We will savor our island and will leave knowing that we can always return. It is home after all, and who can resist the pull of home?

As always, we are happy and trying to work hard. We are lucky to have so many places that feel like home to us, and so many people in our lives who feel like family. We have been enjoying visits from friends and family and the Belliston Hotel (ok motel) still has a few openings. Please check with the management for details.

Love, Ward and Susan               Elder and Sister Belliston, serving in the Cooks

As a postscript, we would  like to add that we just returned from the wedding where I delivered my cake decorated with freshly picked orchids As we made our way to our seats for the kai kai (feast), we were ushered to the table next to the bridal party. This table is always reserved for honored guests.  This is just another piece of our island puzzle.

One morning's catch. The boys are holding octopus and the blue and pink fish in the foreground is a parrot fish.

A Cook Island Clam

The ride home. Where are the seat belts?

LudwinaWilliams in her orchid greenhouse. She cut some beautiful blossoms for the wedding cake. 

Yesterday's wedding. The groom will be baptized Saturday in our ocean.

The wedding feast. Taro, potato salad, chop suey, roast chicken, mayonnaise salad, bananas, cabbage salad, papaya, raw fish in coconut sauce, etc, etc. There is one more buffet table and only forty guests!

Eleven-year old Ivan about to be baptized by his father.

The view from our backyard

This avacado arrived this morning

Part of my seashell collection 

The end of another beautiful day in paradise

Adventures in Paradise 35

Adventures in Paradise 35

Kia Orana, everyone! Our excellent adventure continues with true confessions of a budding (no pun intended) ei maker. For several months now, we have greeted each new visitor to our island with homemade eis (leis) lovingly crafted by our friend, Mama Numa. Mama is an artist. She picks flowers from her own garden and sews them together, turning those already lovely blossoms into beautiful works of art. Our guests are delighted to be welcomed with a kiss on the cheek and the gift of one of those eis.

Mama is a widow and earns a little extra money by selling her eis. She supplies many of the travel groups who meet the planes with these eis and she is always happy to deliver special orders. For nine months, as we have welcomed visitors, we have depended on Mama to make her eis for us as well. Mama is so talented that she makes creating these special eis look easy. But, isn’t that what talented people do? They make something look easy, because they have superior knowledge and they have also taken the time to master their craft.

Knowing that two of my friends would be arriving soon from America, I had the brilliant idea to create my own eis to present to them. Oh, it would be wonderful!  I would get the chance to be creative, my friends would be so impressed and we could save a little money if I made the garlands myself. There was not a down side to this, or so I thought. All I had to do was pick the flowers and thread them on some string. How hard could that be and what could possibly go wrong? When I shared my idea with some of the women here, they just smiled and nodded their heads.

Not wanting the flowers to wilt, I “wisely” deferred my picking until late afternoon of the day before my visitors were to arrive. I had permission from friends to pick their flowers and I also made a stop at the church, where there were more flowering bushes, just to be sure that I had an ample supply of the white timpani blossoms. I carefully picked each blossom and gently laid them in a bag that I had brought along. Every so often, I would open the bag just wide enough to enjoy their fragrance. Perfection! 

I was halfway home when I peeked into the bag and to my horror, realized that most of my carefully gathered flowers were turning brown around the edges! Oh, no!! Being the great horticultural expert that I am, I assumed that this change could be attributed to the fact that it was a warm day and all that would be needed was a little cold water bath. So, I told Ward to step on it and get me and my bag home as quickly as possible. No sooner had we arrived home, that I had all my little beauties floating in my kitchen sink. Sadly, instead of reviving my treasures, I had destroyed them. The sink now contained a pulpy mass of transparent petals, with not a usable flower in the lot!

To make a long sad story a little shorter, I will just relate that I went to see Mama Numa, threw myself on her mercy and begged for a lesson on two in ei making. While relating my unfortunate saga, I noticed that she was doing what those other women had done before. She was smiling and nodding. Oh, and yes, she was also trying not to laugh. She now knew what my other friends had only suspected. I knew NOTHING about the art of ei making. I had discounted Mama’s years of experience. I had assumed that because she made it look easy, fashioning beautiful eis really was easy. Can anyone relate? Have any of you had a similar experience?

So, for the next hour or so, Mama tutored a very eager student in the art that had taken her a lifetime to master. I learned that one does not pick flowers in full bloom. They will quickly turn brown and wilt before you can do anything with them. Only the buds are picked. These buds are then placed in a bag with a few drops of water to maintain the moisture balance and refrigerated for a few hours or overnight. These buds will open just in time to be strung and will not turn brown for a day or two. I also learned that immersing the flowers in water is the worst possible mistake to make. The water destroys them. They lose their stability and their color. The leaves fall off and unless you can think of a good use for stems, you are doomed. I learned that the fullness of the ei is regulated by how closely you trim those stems. The shorter the stem is trimmed, the closer together the flowers are strung and the fuller the ei. I learned what kind of thread to use and what sort of needle should be employed. I learned to sew some of the buds through their centers and others through the stems sideways, for an added artistic flair. I learned how to tie off with a special knot that would bear the weight of the flowers as the ei was worn.

Then I was taught an amazing lesson in how to look past the obvious and see potential and possibility in all sorts of plants. It had never occurred to me that you could fold large petals into smaller ones to create drama and diversity and add color. I was stunned to find that you could strip a large green leaf into nature’s version of curling ribbon! This ribbon was then wrapped around fresh herbs and sewn into the ei as well. Ah, so this is what made them smell so heavenly! I was taught where to find wild basil and how to incorporate it into the eis along with the flowers. As an eager student, I was beginning to appreciate the vast experience of my teacher! The two of us were also bonding in a new way, brought on by a mutual experience.

So, I made two passable eis for my friends and I was proud of my efforts. I now appreciate more fully Mama Numa and her creativity. Creativity is not a learned skill, rather it is a gift.  But I will get better, because I want to learn and I will practice what I am learning. Isn’t that what makes a good student, after all?

Those smiling, nodding women, knowing before I did, that I would encounter disaster, made their own eis and delivered them to me so that my friends would have a very warm welcome. Thanks to all of them for their thoughtfulness. Mama even made two of her own eis for us to share. They were truly friends in need. We can now laugh about all of the mistakes that I made when I thought I knew “everything”.

So, having spent another week in paradise, I have learned at least one lesson. It is actually a life’s lesson that I keep having to relearn. I have been reminded that people who do things well, have worked hard to make it all seem so effortless. To all of the teachers, artists, musicians, public speakers, writers, gardeners, chefs, and other accomplished people that I know, I want to tell you how much I appreciate your talents and your efforts. You are examples to me of what being creative is all about. It is equal parts, desire, hard work and the love of what you are doing. You have made it look easy when in fact, it is just the opposite. I suppose that a life well-lived would fit into this category as well.

So, as always, we are happy and trying to work hard. We cannot tell you how much we appreciate the examples that you have been to us and the lessons that we have learned from each of you. I am certainly a work in progress, but I am trying to learn another of life’s lessons. I am learning that it’s ok to ask for direction from someone who knows much more than I do.

Love, Ward and Susan                     Elder and Sister Belliston, serving in the Cooks

Mama Numa and her student

The red leaves were folded to make smaller flowers. I made the two white eis.

Waiting for our friends

Ann Harbertson and Chris Judd. Chris and I have been friends for forty years and Ann was a former student of mine. We taught together in Davis County.

Another happy ending. See you next week.

Adventures in Paradise 34

Adventures in Paradise 34

Kia Orana, everyone! Our excellent adventure continues with some thoughts on old shoes and other things that wear out. Earlier this week, I was trying to prolong the life of a favorite pair of sandals. They had served me well, but had seen much better days. In an effort to resuscitate them, I began to liberally apply black duct tape. This was to be followed up with a coat or two of felt-tip marker. As I worked, it became apparent that these shoes could not be saved and that I would be forced to accept the inevitable. Simply put, they were worn out.

As I thought about it, I realized that my sandals had been worn out while I had been serving others. I had worn them to church and in the sand. In those black sandals, I had walked through brambles which had scuffed the leather and I had tripped over rocks that eventually wore out the toes. My faux alligator flip-flops had been subjected to ocean and rain water, muddy roads and soggy marshes. There was no possibility of repair. I had to accept what was.  I had always been partial to those sandals, but the only way that I could have saved them would have been not to have used them. Why buy a pair of shoes then never wear them? Why possess anything and not use and enjoy it. Why, indeed?

My mother owned a beautiful set of china. This china, along with a set of six crystal goblets had been wedding gifts received when she married my father in 1946.  My mother treasured those things, but she never enjoyed them. My brother remembers that she said that she didn’t want to use them until she had a dining room. My mother never did have a dining room. I recall her mentioning to me, that she was fearful that a plate or one of the goblets would be broken if they were ever used. When my mother passed away, my brother asked for the china and I was thrilled to own the goblets. My brother thinks of my mother every time he sets his table with that blue and white china and I have loved enhancing my table with my mother’s stemware. I broke one of those goblets after a lovely evening with friends. I’m sorry that I broke it, but I’m not sorry that I had used it. I prefer to think that the goblet broke as a result of being used and enjoyed in the way that its creator had intended. Could we draw a parallel here to the lives that we have been given?

Most of us have experienced those moments where we do not want anything to change or

to age. We wish to keep things just as they are. We don’t want to spoil our new white Keds.  The truth is that our Keds will get older and so will we, if we are lucky. Why not have a good life in those Keds and maybe do some good for someone else while we are wearing them. I have also learned that you can be as worn out at the end of the day by doing nothing as by doing something.I decided long ago, that I would rather be too busy than not busy enough.

So, my shoes are wearing out and there is only so much a roll of duct tape can do. Ward and I both have clothes that are starting to show their age, and we could say the same thing for us! The van we drive is dented and rusting, but each dent has a story to tell about a visit that was made to someone in need. All my life, I have tried to avoid prolonged sun exposure, but now, I have a tan that speaks to how often I sit outside someone’s home while enjoying time with them. We are tired, but it’s the good kind of tired that comes from spending our days reaching out to others. We are most always worn out at the end of the day, but that’s just as it should be. As he was saying his goodbyes to us, young Elder Barnett told us that at the end of the day he is always tired. With tears in his eyes, Elder Barnett said that going to bed tired was the way that he knew that he had done his best that day. He always wanted to be worn out in the service of his Heavenly Father.

So, as always, we are happy (and tired) and trying to work hard. If you can believe it, we are now half-way through our time here and we look forward to seeing you all in March. We know that we will recognize all of you when we see you again, but we are not so certain that you will know us. Simply look for the tired sunburned couple in the old clothes and worn out shoes. Oh, and yes, we will be smiling!

Love, Ward and Susan                            Elder and Sister Belliston, serving in the Cooks

Goodbye faux aligator flip-flops

I need more duct tape

Worn out in service

Yesterday afternoon: No shoes required.

Adventures in Paradise 33

Adventures in Paradise 33

Kia Orana, everyone! Our excellent adventure continues with a mostly tongue-in-cheek look at life here on our little rock. We thought that you might enjoy an islander’s view of daily events that make living here a unique and smile-provoking experience. The question that accompanies each of our vignettes is, “When was the last time?” We respectfully submit for your edification, the following samples of life in and on Rarotonga.

When was the last time someone asked you how many times you have been around an island?

This question is posed to us almost everyday by locals and by our American visitors as well. We always begin our answer by saying, “You mean today?”

This island is twenty-one miles around, which seems very small by American standards. While it is not at all unusual for us to drive around the island once or twice in a day, the locals find it amazing that we could or would go so far. For the most part, we find that we now know more people here than do many of our friends, as the residents here tend to stay in their own little villages or areas. At home, we could take a long drive when we needed to get away from it all. A long drive here simply puts you back where you started. On Rarotonga, really getting away requires a plane ticket!

When was the last time a chicken came to church?

The correct island answer here would be last Sunday. We should be forthcoming in qualifying our answer by saying that in truth, our feathered friend did miss the sermon. In the chicken’s defense, although she really does not need defending, the doors were open and the sign outside did say visitors were welcome!

When was the last time someone came to your door asking if you had seen their pig?

This happened just last week, as a neighbor seemed to have lost his dinner, er pet pig. A frantic man came running through our yard looking for the elusive porker. We never did see the little guy, but we did hear some squealing on occasion. We suspect that while excited to hear that the family was having a feast that evening, “Babe” may have gone missing when faced with the prospect of becoming the main course!

Speaking of pigs and main courses: When was the last time you threw a pot-luck party and one guest showed up early with a frozen front quarter?

Again, this happened a week ago when we were setting up tents and chairs for our Kai Kai. Our friend, Jake, said that he and his wife couldn’t attend, but wanted to drop off their dinner contribution. We were surprised when that contribution turned out to be a front quarter of pork (including the leg) which was frozen solid! Thanks to the internet, I was able to take a crash course on island cooking. I learned that one trick is to cook the pork very slowly. You must also work to produce a crackled skin, which is a delicacy here. The pork and I were a hit, but I am a bit troubled by disposition of the scraps. One woman came by and scraped all the bones and fat into a bag to take home to feed her pigs. Do you detect a certain irony here?

When was the last time you needed help to lift one bunch of bananas?

Last week, when Ward’s daughter and son-in-law were visiting, we took them around to meet some of our friends. Many here are insulted if we do not introduce our visitors to them, so we try to find as many people home as possible. President Cummings was his usual jovial and joking self when he met Darvil and Teresa. He suggested that they had no need to return to America, as life was perfect on this island and he tried to persuade them to stay. As is his custom, he would not allow us to leave without presenting us with a “little something”. This something has on occasion been a freshly picked pineapple. Other times, we have driven off his mountain with a basketful of papaya or mangos. Once, we were even gifted with a hand-dyed paraeu. This time, Darvil was asked if he liked bananas and when Darvil answered in the affirmative, President Cummings told our unsuspecting son-in-law to follow him. The result was a bunch of bananas that Darvil could not carry. Ward jumped in to help and it took two grown men to hoist eighty kilos of bananas into our van. Oh yes, a kilo is 2.2 pounds. I will let you do the math! Our he-men worked to hang the bananas in our garage. Tip to the banana hangers who may read this blog: The banana bunches are always hung upside-down (as they grow) and they ripen a few bananas at a time from the bottom up. You simply pick the ripe ones and wait for the next ones to ripen as well. Our resident cook has also learned to peel and freeze bananas so that she can bake loaves of banana bread at a moments notice.

When was the last time you held a luau in your backyard? AND, when was the last time that the evening’s entertainment included a fire dancer?

Last week, as previously mentioned, we held a kai kai on the mission home grounds. We were saying good-bye to a group of BYU-H students who had been visiting our island for three weeks. These students had come as part of an exchange program between the school and the Cook Islands government. We wanted to send them off in grand fashion, so we invited everyone to the party. Many volunteered to perform, including Elder “Little Grass Shack” and it was a lot of fun. The weather was not totally cooperative, so we were dealing with a little, well ok, a lot of rain and some wind. At one point, our Samoan student lit his fire stick and began to perform. The combination of his being out of practice and the inclement weather produced some unforgettable moments. The highlight of the evening came when he tossed his burning torch high into the sky and it did not return. In the dark, our dancer had not seen the tree behind him and the burning stick became lodged in it’s branches. The emcee simply asked where the rain was when you really needed it! So, the fire dance became a game of target practice as many of the young people began tossing coconuts upwards into the night in hopes of dislodging that stick. The stick finally returned to earth and the show went on. Our guests left that evening wet, but smiling. I was smiling too, because I already knew that I would be sharing that experience on my next blog.

When was the last time that a tour guide changed his script because of something you said?

A guide on the island had been telling guests that his ancestors came from Asia, but some of their favorite foods, including the sweet potato (kumura) came from South America. How interesting! Later, Ward  spoke with him and presented him with a BofM. Ward had highlighted the passages about Hagoth and also included comments from Presients Joseph F. Smith and  Spencer W. Kimball concerning Hagoth’s leaving the Americas. We believe that the Pacific Islanders are decedents of that people. The next time we heard that particular guide, we smiled when he told his guests that his people and the kumura came from South America.

When was the last time that six people in one week asked to be taught?

We are excited to relate that this happened to us just last week. What more is there to say here?

When was the last time that someone greeted you with a kiss on the cheek?

This happens to us every time we meet someone and it’s a sweet, intimate experience.We have learned to lean in for the kiss and to kiss back as well.  If you are Rarotongan, you kiss on the right cheek only. If you are Tahitian, you kiss on both cheeks, but always start on the right cheek so that there is no kissing confusion. This fosters instant closeness and is a custom that I intend on exporting to the US.  It’s lovely, just lovely!

As always, we are happy and trying to work hard. It is worth reiterating ,that every experience we related occurred just last week. There is always an adventure waiting for us and we find ourselves looking forward to each a new day. We feel very blessed to be here and to share these experiences with the people that we have grown to love. We might mention here, as well, that you all have been part of our past adventures and we look forward to sharing yet more with you upon our return. We love and miss you and enjoy those e-mails that chronicle your adventures as well.

Love, Ward and Susan                        Elder and Sister Belliston, serving in the Cooks

President Cumming's hilltop home

Our son-law, Darvil, and his 80 kilo bunch of bananas. 

Coconut milk, anyone?

One of our neighbors.

Teresa and Darvil at Blackrock

Visiting Wigmore Falls

Everyone is welcome here. Chickens included!

The blogger at work. See you next week!