Adventures in Paradise Volume 2 #55

Kia ora! Our excellent adventure continues with some thoughts on the connection between fish and pumpkin pies and the lessons one can learn from drawing such a parallel.  If you cannot possibly imagine how those two seemingly unrelated items can weave themselves into this blog, please read on so that I can share with you the tender moments of an interaction that took place last week in my kitchen.

While it is no secret that Americans love Pumpkin pie, it may surprise you to learn that most Kiwis cannot fathom such a thing. Why take a perfectly good pumpkin, which would make an excellent roasted addition to any meal, and turn it in to something sweet that would be served as a dessert? Why indeed? And then, why take perfectly good cream, which should be poured directly over a pudding, and whip and sweeten it before using it as a garnish? According to many New Zealanders, Americans are weird, if not just plain crazy!

I have spent the better part of a year trying to convert people to pumpkin pie. While it is not possible to buy canned processed pumpkin locally, there is a store in Auckland that caters to Americans and Libby’s pumpkin is always in stock. Beginning in November, I made many pumpkin pies to share with both our American missionaries as well as anyone else who would be willing to try a taste. There have been rave reviews from the Yanks and some questionable looks from some others. One Maori friend refused even a nibble as he just couldn’t wrap his mind or tastebuds around the idea of a savory food being turned into something sweet! Some intrepid souls have tasted and have even been converted and it is that conversion that becomes the focus of this blog.

Blake, along with his mother and sister were baptized about six months ago. They are excited about the changes taking place in their lives, and Blake, in particular has developed a zest for learning. Although that learning is largely Gospel-based, our young friend has seen whole new worlds open up to him in more areas that he could ever have imagined and he is avidly and excitedly exploring his new frontiers. Blake’s family was the recipient of one of my pies. One of our young missionaries had requested a pie for  Thanksgiving, so I made him one and was touched that he and his companion chose to share the treat with Blake and his family. We were told that little family, so unfamiliar with American food, embraced that pie whole-heartedly and we were thrilled. Having an extra can of pumpkin in our pantry, we gave it to the Elders to pass along to our friends.

Two weeks ago, Blake asked if I could possibly take the time to teach him the art and secrets of pie baking and I replied that it would be my extreme pleasure to spend some one-on-one time with him. Last Tuesday, Blake arrived, grasping the can of pumpkin in one hand and a notebook in the other. Every instructor dreams of having a student who is anxious to learn and take notes and I felt like I had hit the teaching jackpot. Blake was ready to learn and I was thrilled to be his teacher. As we sat at the kitchen table, Blake thanked me again for taking the time to demonstrate and I off-handedly replied that this way was so much better that just giving him a fish. Blake’s face screwed up into a very quizzical expression and I realized that we were about to have a teaching moment that neither of us had anticipated. I shared with Blake that there was an old saying that taught a very valuable lesson and the message was timeless. I explained that if you give a man a fish, you feed him for a day, but if you teach the man to fish, he learns to feed himself for a lifetime. Blake’s face lit up and I could see that he had a firm grasp on that old adage. “So”, he responded, “if you make a pie for me, you feed me once, but if I learn to make the pie myself, I can make them for a lifetime!”  Yes, Blake, you understand one of the greatest rules for living a healthy and happy life. It is good to learn for yourself!

I spent the next while talking about properties of good pastry and how to achieve a flaky crust and Blake watched intently as I demonstrated. He was furiously taking down almost every word that I uttered and I could help but think back to my classroom days, when I could only have hoped for the rapt attention I was now receiving. Finally, it was Blake’s turn to put his lesson into practice, so I left the room and told him to call if he needed my help. I knew that without me peering over his shoulder, this focused young man would find his way through his first pie shell and by doing it himself, he would remember. I was not surprised when called me back into the kitchen, where I found a perfectly-formed pie crust waiting on the counter to be filled with the pumpkin mixture he had whipped up by exactly following the directions on the Libby’s label.

As the pie baked, we talked more about how important it is to be self-reliant and just how much more pleasure he will derive from the pie, knowing that he made it himself. He smiled and asked me please not to be insulted if he said that now, every time he thinks of fish, he will think of me. There is a compliment in that statement for me and a lifetime learning experience for him. Now I don’t think that I will ever think of fish without thinking about the lovely afternoon that I spent in a kitchen half-way around the world with a young man who will put the lessons he is learning into practice. He is truly remarkable and I can’t wait to meet the man he will become. Sometime later that afternoon, Blake took home his perfect pumpkin pie nestled in my gift of a new pie tin. He mastered the art of whipping cream and I instructed him on how to contact the American store to purchase more pumpkin. Blake did not stop grinning that day and he couldn’t wait to present his pie to his mother, sister and baby brother. It was a perfect afternoon.

As always, we are happy and trying to work hard. Life is full of lessons and we can never anticipate when an off-hand remark might lead to a valuable learning and sharing experience. Although I won’t think of many of you when a fish comes to mind, memories of other learning experiences are triggered as I recall, fondly our interactions. Thank you for the life lessons that you have taught, often without ever being aware that someone was watching and learning. I was watching and I have learned so much by the examples that you have set. Thank you!

Love, Ward and Susan     Elder and Sister Belliston, serving in Gisborne, New Zealand 

       

Blake listens intently as I explain the finer points of making flaky pastry. 

I love the look on his face.

The pie and it's happy maker

A perfect first-try pumpkin pie!

Adventures in Paradise Volume #54

Kia ora! Our excellent adventure continues as we combine the name of a favorite Disney attraction with a modified version of the title of an old comedic movie. “It’s a Small, Small,Small, Small World” aptly describes our experience of last Sunday and we are left amazed and smiling at the events that unfolded here in Gisborne a week ago. In a rapidly shrinking environment, we were once again reminded of just how small the world really has become and we have been delighted by that reminder.

Life was hectic last week and there literally, was no time for a blog.  In retrospect, that over-scheduled week is exactly what caused us to be in the exact right place at the exact right time last Sunday and we are thrilled with the results. We were caught up in the cosmic timing of things and we couldn’t have planned it any better if we had tried.

Three weeks ago, as we were attending meetings in a small village an hours drive from our home, we learned that a cruise ship would be docking in Gisborne on January 17^th. One hundred and thirty passengers, most of them Latter-Day-Saints, would be disembarking so that they could participate in a special church service and cultural experience. The congregation of the Nuhaka ward had invited these travelers to attend church services with them. In addition, the village had invited them to participate in a hangi (underground oven cooked meal) and as a special treat, the guests were invited to visit with them at the local Marae, where the meaning of the stunning carvings would be explained and local customs and culture would be shared. This sort of experience is very uncommon among visitors to New Zealand as the closest one usually gets to a Marae would be in a reenactment village especially created for tourists. Unfortunately for us, we had other obligations on that Sunday, so we knew that we would be unable to participate in the activities and we were disappointed, to say the least.

Due to the timing of our Sunday schedule and our disappointment over missing the adventure, another idea was formulated. We decided that if we could not spend the day with the travelers, we could at least meet them at the dock and welcome them to our beautiful city. Although we did not know whom we were looking for, our badges would be recognizable and we assumed that those little black plastic name tags would draw attention, which is exactly what they did! As we stood on the dock, next to the transports that had been hired for the occasion, passengers noticing our badges waved and shouted greetings to us. We waved in return and positioned ourselves so that we would be able to personally greet everyone as they were loaded onto the coaches.

It might be of interest here, to note that Ward and I have a standing wager. The Belliston family is so large that it is not at all unusual for us to meet someone, no matter where we are in the world, who knows one of them.  The premise of the bet is that regardless of where we might happen to be, it will be less than ten minutes before Ward makes a connection with someone. This has happened countless times in airports, restaurants, exotic locations and gatherings of any kind, so as I stood on the dock in far away Gisborne, New Zealand, I knew sooner or later that once again, a stranger, seeing the badge, would approach Ward and ask the question that we always expect;  “Excuse me, but are you related to……..?”  What I could not have expected was that morning would hold a few surprises for me as well.

In just under a minute after positioning ourselves near the coaches, the expected happened. A man approached Ward and asked if he was related to Pete Belliston! Arnie Garr was a a friend of Ward’s brother, Pete, and had been since childhood. He introduced us to his wife, Cherie and we had a pleasant little chat before they boarded their bus. As they disappeared inside, we wished them a lovely day and shared with them that they were in for a treat. Ward and I looked at each other and smiled as neither one of us were surprised by the encounter. Rather, the surprise always involved exactly whom we would meet, not if we would meet. Standing there, I suddenly became aware that a familiar face was staring at me! She was not staring at Ward, this woman knew me!

To my utter delight, I recognized a colleague from my teaching days at Bountiful High School. Barbara and I had served together on several committees and had retired the same year. Sadly, when we were in the Cook Islands, I received word that Barbara was very ill and was facing an uphill battle for recovery. But there Barbara was looking healthy and happy and greeting me with outstretched arms! After hugging and a whispered assurance that she was well, I turned to her husband and reminded him that in my former life as Susan Norgaard, I had grown up in Bountiful just three houses away from him! Having heard that exchange, the man behind Barbara and Lynn Porter spoke up and said , “Well, if you remember him, do you remember that you and I were also classmates at Bountiful High?” Peering closely into a face that I had not seen for almost fifty years, I greeted Bert Winegar, who was also waiting to board the bus! As the last stragglers arrived, I had one last touching encounter. Recognizing the name on the tag as the brother of someone who used to visit my home in high school, I had a chance to reconnect with a member of the Flack family. I was able to offer my condolences on the passing of a brother and to tell Eric Flack how much I still enjoyed using a cookbook, “Wheat For Man, Why and How” written by his mother, Dora Flack. As we waved to our departing visitors, Ward and I remarked on what a sweet morning we had just experienced and we were so happy once again for the gift of perfect timing.

Today, we again found ourselves in Nuhaka, this time as the Sacrament Meeting speakers. During the course of our visit, we heard touching stories of just how taken the travelers were with their experiences in that little village. They were grateful for the thoughtfulness and hospitality extended to them and many remarked that this little community carried a remarkable spirit within its confines. It had been an experience of a lifetime and they were grateful. It was said that the group left with a much keener appreciation and understanding of the Maori culture.

As always, we are happy and trying to work hard. We have learned that in order to better understand a person, it is so helpful to experience and appreciate that person’s culture. That is what we try to do every day and what our friends from the cruise ship experienced last Sunday. We want you to know that we have learned to appreciate you for who you are and what you represent. We have adopted customs, recipes, stories and more ideas than we care to admit from you. We do this because we know that your ways have made a difference in our small world and we would like to do the same.

Love ard and Susan       Elder and Sister Belliston, serving in Gisborne, New Zealand

Last Sunday's view of the cruise ship from shore. The statue in the foreground depicts the first sighting of the harbor by young Nick, the twelve-year old son of the Endeavor's doctor.

The Nuhaka chapel

This is the Nuhaka marae. Before the current chapel was built, this was the meeting place for the LDS congregation. When they moved into their new edifice, the church deeded the marae to the community. Each intricate carving has it's own special meaning. The beautiful door mantel was carved by an Elder Fairbanks who served in the area. Elder Fairbanks was a nephew to the well-known sculptor, Avard Fairbanks. 

 If you look closely, you can see the ship as it leaves Gisborne headed for Tauranga. The island you see can be accessed by foot during low tide, but you must remember to plan your return  according to the tide schedule or be a very good swimmer!

Adventures in Paradise Volume 2 #53

Kia ora! Our excellent adventure continues with some thoughts concerning a phrase that I recall hearing my grandmother voice on many occasions. When my grandma Martin found herself in some sort of tizzy, she would often exclaim that she didn’t know whether she was coming or going. That phrase always personified to me a state of unease or unrest. I had visions of her running around without direction wringing overworked hands while nursing and equally overburdened brain.

As our time in New Zealand grows shorter, Ward and I are experiencing much the same angst as did my frenzied grandmother. We cannot properly define whether we are coming or if we are going and that dilemma is beginning to weigh heavily on our minds and hearts. In fifteen weeks, we will be wondering if we are coming home or if we are going to be leaving home. Is it possible to be doing both? Such is the state in which we find ourselves as we yearn to see the faces of those we have been missing, while at the same time begin to imagine goodbyes from the faces we know we will long for almost immediately after sharing one last hug.

We are coming to the conclusion that returning home is going to be difficult. When leaving Utah for New Zealand, we knew that we would one day be issued a release and in the first difficult days of our stay here, we avidly looked forward to that day eighteen months into our future. What we should have recalled from our experience in the Cooks is that that release day comes much more quickly than we could have imagined and in the blink of an eye, we are expected to pack up our experiences and friendships and vacate a land that we have learned to love.

It’s not that we don’t know whether we are coming or going; rather, it is simply the fact that in our case, “coming” means “going” and we are beginning to feel our hearts breaking. We are coming to the end of our time with the Tomatia family and we know that we are not going to see two darling boys grow up in person. Samantha and Jason have been diligent in their missionary efforts and we can credit them directly for helping in the conversion of two people (possibly a third!) and we are going to miss them dearly. Samantha is totally blind, but she has taught me how to appreciate and view the world much differently that I once did. I am coming to anticipate just how much I am going to miss Sam and her little family

We are going home, but happily realize that some of the missionaries that have become our adopted children will be coming back to homes and schools near us. We look forward to continued relationships with the dedicated, directed and spiritual young people that they have become. We are also coming to appreciate just how easy it is to stay in touch and in the near future we are going to be very grateful for both the miracle of the internet and the ability to travel easily. We have already promised those attending BYU Hawaii that one day soon we will be in the audience of the island show at the PCC. Ward has indicated that a trip to Tonga to visit a sister is a must and tomorrow, as we bid farewell to our cute sister from Eastern Europe, we will be reminding her that we will see her in the Czech Republic before the end of the year. The hard edges of the reality of our going home are softened as we formulate travel plans that will find us again sharing company with some of our favorite young people.

An interesting byproduct of our going is that we are finding ourselves in high demand as speakers. As others are coming to realize that we are not going to be here much longer our stock has gone sky high. The little branch to which we were initially assigned has not seen us for the past three Sundays and we now must inform them that we may not be in attendance again until sometime in February! To clarify; it is not to say that we are not working with and visiting the residents of our little community, it simply means that we have no opportunity to interact with them on Sundays. I have had to laugh as I consider how popular we feel and how wonderful it would have been to have had this many invitations when I was a young woman hoping for a date! This morning for example, found us traveling two hours up the beautiful New Zealand coastline, so that we could participate in a special fireside. Unlike the young missionaries, who are restricted to a certain defined area in their mission zone, we have the opportunity to travel widely and we have found it a wonderful experience. Our goings have allowed us to come into the company of many lovely people and we look forward to staying in touch with them in the future.

So, as always, we are happy and trying to work hard. Our comings and goings are much more frenzied than they were when we first arrived and that is to be expected. Part of our stress simply comes from the fact that we can almost hear the clock ticking and time is passing much too quickly.  In a much earlier blog, I referenced a Jim Croce song entitled, “Time in a Bottle” and those lyrics play over and over in my mind as I wish that somehow I could actually preserve a little time so that I could uncork the container in moments when the days seem to be moving much too quickly. Having wished that, I am also more than anxious to come home to friends and family that we have dearly missed. Please know that you are almost constantly on our minds as we view a calendar whose days keep slipping away. My grandmother never did figure out whether she was coming or going and we can’t either.

Love, Ward and Susan    Elder and Sister Belliston, serving in Gisborne, New Zealand

Coming and going up the coast this morning, we were treated to this view. Ahh, New Zealand! 

Adventures in Paradise Volume 2 #52

Kia ora! Our excellent adventure continues with some thoughts concerning what we may consider blessings. Somewhere last week, I read a little statement that set me to thinking. “What if you woke up today with only the things that you remembered to thank God for.”  Some of us would wake up to abundance and others of us would face a new day that would be lacking in many of the basics of our lives. Sometimes we forget to be grateful and often, we neglect to appreciate what seems to be commonplace.

My first reaction to that sentiment was purely practical. If I were to truly be thankful in my prayers for all of my blessings, I would never get off my knees. I would spend the better part of my day enumerating the positives in my life. It could take hours to be properly grateful. My second, and far more practical approach, was to remind myself that all prayers of gratitude do not have to be accomplished in a formal prayer setting. Gratitude can take the form of paying attention and enjoying the moment. It can show itself by our being appreciative of associations and experiences. Gratitude can exhibit itself by our simply noticing. Then in prayer, we can simply express thanks for being aware.

Living in another country has helped me to see blessings through the perspective of others. It is raining here today and I am remembering to be very grateful for the moisture. After a dry spell at home, I would welcome the water as a way of greening up parched lawns. Now, in an area where we depend on a good rainstorm to fill the water tanks that sustain us, I view storm clouds with new enthusiasm.  I did not fully appreciate how grateful I should be for a downpour, but I do now.

During holiday periods in our country ten thousand miles away from here, it was simply expected that we would spend time with those we love. I’m certain that we were grateful to be with friends and family, but I personally, did not spend enough time being mindful of the blessing that it truly was to have the opportunity to gather. I did not fully appreciate how grateful I should be for friends who drop by or for others who issue invitations, but I do now.

A white Christmas has always been on my wish list and it never truly seemed like the holiday was complete until those fluffy white flakes were falling from the sky. I have missed them enough to cut out substitutes to hang in the windows of our island homes for four years. I had no desire to be anywhere warm or tropical in December as the only true way to celebrate the season was to be semi frozen. I did not fully appreciate what it would be like to observe the festivities while enjoying a BBQ at the beach, but I do now!

In a posture of changing attitudes and broadened horizons, I have come to accept a different country and its culture with new enthusiasm. We have learned to appreciate with new eyes and in the process have also seen many blessings that we never noticed before. I never realized what a blessing it is to be able to pick fresh fruit from a tree just outside my door, but I do now. I never considered it a blessing to have water flow effortlessly out of a tap, but I do now. I never had the opportunity to consider it a blessing to house weary travelers on Christmas Eve, because there was no room anywhere else for them, but I can now.  I have never shared Christmas with strangers only to have the gift of having them turn into new friends, but I have now. The blessings of serving in New Zealand far outweigh the concerns we had about leaving home and loved ones. We did not fully appreciate the blessing this mission would be in our lives, but we do now and we are beyond grateful.

As always, we are happy and trying to work hard. I would not want to wake up tomorrow to find that everything I did not appreciate had disappeared. That one little message has changed my perspective and has helped me to see and appreciate all the positives in my life with new eyes. So in addition to everything else I am thankful for, I am praying that I will remember those few simple words. We are grateful that we have you in our lives and you can be certain that we count you as blessings. We do not want your absence to be a result of our not being grateful.

Love, Ward and Susan     Elder and Sister Belliston, serving in Gisborne, New Zealand

It's raining, it's pouring, the old man is not snoring!!!! 

This is one of our two water tanks. This tank is filled by the rain that comes off the garage. We also have a ten thousand gallon water storage tank under the floor of the house.

This is one of the conduits that feeds the rain water into the storage under the house. Our job is to make certain that it is in alignment so that we don't waste any water.

The pipe bends and enters the holding tank just above the pavement. We have a dip stick so that we can measure the water level under the house. We always want that stick showing a healthy water line. 

Some of the people in this photo were meant to stay with us, but the others could not find a place to stay as they arrived in Gisborne on Christmas Eve. Luckily, there was room at our inn. 

The Haywards hosted a lovely Christmas dinner and we were thrilled to be invited. As usual, there was too much food and it was delicious! On the Menu: Lamb, Chicken with stuffing, Ham, Salmon, five salads, fresh fruit and more homemade desserts and we could count. We also popped open Christmas crackers, retrieved the prizes, read our corny jokes and wore our paper crowns.  

Reuben Hayward and his family were featured in the July 2015 Ensign ( pages 66-69) talking about their reactivation. He is now the Bishop of the Mangapapa Ward and the son of the elder Haywards. We enjoyed their company as well at the Christmas dinner.

The Haywards thoughtfully provided the Sisters with filled stockings and Ward and I enjoyed our gift of Belgian truffles. To be honest, we probably enjoyed them a little too much!