Adventures in Paradise 54

Adventures in Paradise 54

Kia Orana, everyone! Our excellent adventure continues with some thoughts concerning neighbors and the impact they have on our lives. If we are lucky, our lives are enhanced by the interaction we enjoy with those who live near us. If we are lucky, we are surrounded by caring, supportive friends who know far more about us than we might guess and who choose to keep it to themselves. If you are really lucky, you may be blessed with a neighbor like Jeannette Flamming.

Last weekend, I made an urgent request to Jeannette through e-mail. Jeannette is my neighbor to the south on 18^th East in Salt Lake City. She is a master gardener and knowing that winter would soon be making an appearance in Utah, I asked, well in truth, I begged Jeannette to help me. My hope was that she would have time to prepare my garden for the winter. When she responded, Jeannette informed me that she would be leaving town the following Thursday, but that she would see what she could do in the meantime. What I expected and what Jeannette accomplished are on opposite ends of the spectrum. During the weekend, my front flower beds were cleared of a years-worth of weeds and creeping grasses. Many of you stopped to say hello while Jeannette was working and to compliment her on her labors. She appreciated your kind words and enjoyed pleasant conversations with some of you. While she and her grandson, Andrew toiled, they noticed that a tree in my backyard had toppled and was resting on the power lines. Jeannette called the power company and made arrangements for the removal of the offending tree. While you may have only noticed that the weeds in the flowerbeds have disappeared, you should know that come spring, there will be a riot of new color for the entire neighborhood to enjoy.

I lost count in her description, but I know that in that short span of the weekend, Jeannette and Andrew (mostly Jeannette) planted forty-eight tulip bulbs! She also added crocus and daffodils and there was even talk of pansies. Jeannette lovingly and painstakingly helped a neighbor who is five thousand miles away. Ward and I will come home in the spring to be greeted with the results of all of her hard work. The best part is that our friends and neighbors will benefit from her hard work as well.  There will be beautiful flowers for all to enjoy. That is her gift to you, the people who are her neighbors.  I might add here, that whenever I leave home, I have trusted that Jeannette will be watching over my house and gardens. I have often joked with her that my yard looks better when I am away than when I am there due to her diligence. If she can’t be found working in my garden, you might look for her next door at her own home, lovingly tending to her own flowers. Stop and enjoy a conversation with her and become better acquainted. Trust me you will be glad that you did! Thank you Jeannette!

As I thought about Jeannette, I couldn’t help but think of other acts of kindness that I have experienced over the years. There was a time of great difficulty in my life a few years ago and often during that time, I would find a note or a card tucked in my mailbox. Each card expressed the love of the sender and supplied the emotional lift that I needed at that moment. I began taping those notes to the inside of one of my cupboard doors and every time that I opened that particular door, I was immediately engulfed with a sense of love and caring from all of the people who had taken time to write to me. Those cards are no longer taped to the inside of my cupboard, but they are tucked away in a safe place where I can visit them and reread them from time to time. They are a constant reminder of the goodness of those around me.

Most of us have also found treats of one kind or another on our doorsteps. Homemade soups and casseroles and freshly baked bread travel from one home to another on a regular basis. Walks are shoveled after a snowstorm and errands are run for those who are housebound. Every day, there are phone calls checking on the welfare of others or they are made simply to provide a connection with the outside world for someone. I remember seeing June Hosford, a neighbor of mine, walk across the street to Maxine Sutton’s home every morning. For several years I watched this and finally inquired as to the reason that she did that. June’s simple reply was that she couldn’t start her day until she knew that her friend, Maxine, was awake and well. My neighbors take the time to get to know each other and they are concerned for the other’s welfare. It is not for me to suggest that my neighborhood is special…….well, it is special, but then, so is yours. The world is full of people who care enough to be concerned about others.

Our island neighbors are thoughtful as well. In our blogs, we have mentioned the many times that we have returned home to find fresh fruit on our doorstep. This is always such a lovely surprise! I once complimented a friend on her colorful skirt. I was aware that she had made it and was so impressed when I realized that she had painted the fabric as well. The next week, I found three yards of that same fabric on my doorstep and now she and I own matching skirts! When we visit Saturday market, we are not allowed to pay for food there out of respect for the fact that we are missionaries. One day in church, the woman sitting behind me reached forward and fastened a black pearl necklace around my neck!  Another time, someone noticing that I most always wear a flower in my hair, crocheted two pearl-centered flowers so that when I leave here, I will  have something lasting to wear in my ponytail. My list could go on, but then so could yours. We have all been lucky to have good neighbors. To paraphrase an old saying, “If you are lucky enough to have good neighbors, you are lucky enough”. I am lucky enough!

So, as always, we are happy and trying to work hard. I am so grateful to all of you over the years for your friendship and concern as my neighbors. It matters little how close or how far away you live as we are all connected by those neighborly ties that keep us thinking of others. I look forward to the day next April when I can stand in my front yard and admire Jeannette’s handiwork. Please drop by and we will enjoy it together. By then I hope to have cookies in my freezer that I can thaw out and share as we revel in Jeannette’s whoops, I mean my garden together. In the meantime, enjoy those people who make up the fabric of your neighborhood and know that we are eager for the day when we will once again be there with you. And thank you Jeannette for  giving me the idea for this blog!

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

Trying to be a good neighbor, I bypass a goat to deliver a birthday cake!

These neighbors were celebrating their birthdays

A small neighbor taking part in the celebration

Iva is happy to celebrate with her neighbors

My neighbor, Ludwina dyed and printed the fabric for my skirt.

My neighbor, Elizabeth, grew these flowers then shared them with us 

Our neighbor, Judy, crocheted these flowers for my hair. Please notice the tiny black pearl in the center. Each petal is worked around a tiny metal ring. Amazing!

A thoughtful neighbor always presents someone leaving our island with shell eis. Beautiful!

Our neighbors from Aitutaki sent Ward this shirt. The pareau for me has the name "Aitutaki" hand stenciled on it. Ward hasn't had a new Aloha shirt in almost a year. What thoughtful neighbors to send him a new one!

I am looking forward to seeing all of my neighbors in a few months! Ka Kite and see you next week!

Adventures in Paradise 53

Adventures in Paradise 53

Kia Orana, everyone! Our excellent adventure continues with some thoughts on change and how we perceive it.  As the time here steadily moves towards the day that we will be released, I have often found myself wondering how we will appear to you upon our return. I have worried that it will be instantly obvious to you that we have aged. And while aging is inevitable, it is usually imperceptible from day to day. When we see each other often, those little changes come into being without much fanfare or notice. However when we haven’t seen someone for over a year and a half, those little changes are noticeable. Those first moments of our return have been making me very nervous. I have been worried about what you will think when you see us.

In the late 80’s, I enjoyed watching a television show called “Designing Women”. Four outspoken southern women worked together as interior designers and the series revolved around their adventures and their interactions with those around them. One episode particularly stands out for me. It was touching to me then and it still replays in my memory from time to time. Suzanne Sugarbaker was one of the designing women and she was also a former beauty queen, who often saw life from the privileged vantage point of someone used to being in the limelight. The actress, Delta Burke, played Suzanne to narcissistic perfection and I enjoyed every moment that she was on my small screen.

In this particular episode, Suzanne is faced with the daunting thoughts of attending her high school reunion. Having always been one of the “Beautiful People”, Suzanne was conflicted about appearing at this gathering. Suzanne, the former beauty queen had gained a lot of weight and was understandably concerned about the impression she would make as former classmates saw her for the first time in many years. She had changed and she knew that it would be noticed. She was terrified and considered staying home. To condense just a little here, Suzanne did attend her reunion and was voted “ Most Changed” by some of her former friends. This award was not meant as a compliment, rather it was intended as a mean-spirited joke designed to demean and embarrass her. As Suzanne made her way to the podium to accept her award, all eyes followed her. Some people, sensing her pain, were tearful, others finally feeling superior to the girl who had had everything wore self-satisfied expressions of smugness on their faces.

Those smug expressions faded as Suzanne accepted her award with a heart-wrenching speech. Suzanne thanked the audience for their votes and conceded that she indeed was the most changed. Never alluding to her weight, she gave an eloquent speech on how she had changed on the inside since her years in high school. She spoke to a silenced room of the way her heart had changed and how differently she saw the world now because of her experiences. She spoke of what was important to her and what wasn’t. She made it clear that she had little concern for what superficial people thought of her, as she was far more concerned about what she thought of herself. At the end of the television hour, there was a tearful, but happy ending and Suzanne picked up her trophy for the most changed person and strode out of the room to a standing ovation from most of those in attendance.

So, I have been worried that I will appear older to you. Well, I am older! I have been worried that you will notice that I have more wrinkles than when you last saw me. I have been concerned about sun spots on my face and flip-flop tan lines on my feet. I don’t know how much longer I can keep plucking out grey hairs with my tweezers! At some point soon, this will no longer be a viable idea! I have been preoccupied with the concern that you will see that I have changed. Suzanne Sugarbaker has again reminded me that the change that matters most is internal and is not as easily noticed. I would truly be embarrassed if I hadn’t changed. While there have been so many lessons to learn, I would have wasted my time here if those experiences had not changed me.

For many years, I have noticed that large groups of Polynesians would spend the entire day at the cemetery on Memorial Day. Tents would be erected and food would be provided. You may have noticed this same thing when you visited. There were quiet greetings all day long and the graves of their loved ones were, in my opinion at the time, overly decorated. I often wondered why they would choose to spend the whole day in the cemetery when they could be spending time somewhere else. Now I realize that this is their ultimate way of showing love and respect to members who have passed on. It is the same here. Friends and family gather at the gravesite and do not concern themselves with time. They are concerned about showing respect and through their actions, they are teaching the next generation to be respectful as well. They are connecting one generation with another and now I understand the reverence they have for family. I now see this practice through new eyes. I have been changed through my altered perception.

My new friends regard time much differently than I do, so I have learned to slow down. They have taught me that it doesn’t matter how many people are coming to dinner. What matters is that they can all take a plate home to share with family. Our friends share more than they can afford and think nothing of it. It is unthinkable here that someone would not have a home or a place to sleep and just like my Salt Lake City neighborhood, there is a lot of silent sharing and caretaking going on each day. These friends seem to be able to see into someone’s heart and I am changed by that example. If you were only to look superficially at our friends, you would notice skin aged by constant exposure to the elements. You would notice that many are missing teeth and none of them spend much time on fashion or the worry about what they might wear. If that’s all that you notice, you would be missing the core of who they are and that might leave you unchanged.

As we prepare to leave here, we realize that there is nothing to fear about change. I’m certain that most of you have changed as well. Let’s all agree to look past the physical aspects of those changes and be glad that we have learned valuable lessons over the last eighteen months that have truly changed us.

So, as usual, we are happy and trying to work hard. Suzanne has reminded me that I should be far less concerned about the outward effects of change and far more focused on the fact that I should have changed on the inside. Many of you have been instrumental in our changing over the years. I have taken note of who you are and how you go about your lives far more than you might imagine. From now on, when someone says that I have changed, I think that I will just say, “Thank you, I hope so!”.

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

 

Graves of family lovingly decorated. I used to think that this was over done, but I have changed my mind. It's beautiful!

Many of our friends spend days cleaning, clearing and adorning graves of their loved ones. I have changed my mind about just bring a small plant to the cemetery. 



We held a gathering for women at our home this week. The woman in the green and yellow dress is our new mission president's wife. She has taken a three-year leave of absence from the Thaitian parliment to work with her husband. She has changed her direction for a while.

The woman in the orange skirt has invited her niece and baby son to live with her. She charges no rent, but just wants to help give them a good life. She has changed my persception of compassion.

This young woman in the red flowered dress moved  from New Zealand with her son and husband. Her mother, Linda died three months ago and Shanna has come home to help her father raise her eight-year old sister. She has changed my thoughts on sacrificing for family.

 

This baby boy has a new home and many new "Aunties" to love him. They will change his life.

 

The Tuaputas, both over seventy are rearing three of their grandchildren. This has changed my idea of how old is too old to raise children.

 

The Mataroas are on the way to the beach with their grandchildren. Their idea of retirement has changed!

Ward shot this after a very long day for me. Our guests had just gone home and I am tired. But the fact that I enjoy having company in my home has not changed.

 

This is a change that you will notice. I have not had a haircut in over a year!

Some things never change! Ward will have a story for you about the one who got away!

See you next week !

Adventures in Paradise 52

Adventures in Paradise 52

Kia Orana, everyone! Our excellent adventure continues with thoughts concerning the passage of time and dreams realized. While it doesn’t seem possible, we note that the fifth of October marks the anniversary of our arrival in paradise. It has been a year of acclimatizing, making new friends, adopting new customs and learning to go with the flow. It has been an unforgettable year and one that will remain in our hearts for the rest of our lives. We are now locals and we are thrilled!

Many of you have heard me say that my dream has always been to live in another culture long enough not to feel like a tourist. For some reason, that dream always seemed to find me somewhere in France, wearing a beret and buying baguettes from the local baker. I would be able to converse with that baker in perfect French and perhaps I would even learn to paint. There would be trips to museums and Versailles. I would stroll down fashionable avenues and enjoy a crepe in a sidewalk café across from Notre Dame Cathedral. I would picnic in the park below the Eifel Tower and take cooking lessons at Le Cordon Bleu. I would become sophisticated and polished, wear designer shoes and be able to tie a scarf a hundred different ways.  I might even ride a Vespa, and I would live a lovely peaceful, cultured life in a small cottage surrounded by fields of lavender. There would always be music wafting across the countryside.

In the past year, my dream of not being a tourist in a foreign land has been realized, but in a way that I could never have imagined. Little more than a year ago, I could not have told you a single thing about Rarotonga, past the fact that it was located somewhere in the Pacific Ocean. It was not on my “must visit” list and it certainly was not a place that I wanted to call home. Polynesian culture was of little interest to me and given the choice, I would have picked Paris and it’s attractions over anything having to do with an island any day of the week. But that was then and this is my life now.

In my dreams, I imagined gourmet food served at sidewalk cafes. My dream life now is one where loving hands serve food slow- cooked in an underground oven or umu. Crepes have been replaced by taro and designer china now exists in the form of hand -woven palm platters.  A picnic is called a Kai Kai and is often enjoyed with the soothing sounds of the surf in the background. There by the ocean’s edge, we enjoy the traditional fare of pork, chicken, raw fish, curry, neck chops, kumura, mayonnaise salad, fresh papaya and pineapple. Dessert could feature banana poki and possibly coconut cake, but it always includes ice cream. This is my life now.

In my dreams, I would be wearing a beret and buying a baguette. My dream life now finds me slathering on sunscreen and trying to figure out how to keep my homemade rolls fluffy while dealing with sea-level humidity. I am not attending cooking school, rather I am the instructor. My students want to learn how to cook American dishes and I love having a kitchen full of chattering pupils. My wish to be able to speak perfect French has faded as I try to grapple with a language where ever vowel is pronounced, but differently than it is in the American alphabet. A E I O U, has become  AH A E OH  OOOOO.  Kia Orana, which is our hello, actually means, “May you live long”. What a lovely thought that is. Maitaki Maata, is thank you very much, and Ka Kite means see you later, while Ka Kite Apapo tells someone that you will see them tomorrow.  This is my life now.

In my dreams, I would be visiting museums and palaces. My dream life now includes mountain treks, rugby matches, snorkeling and visits to the sea wall to watch the triple-seven plane fly in for a landing. I can determine whether a dancer is Tahitian, Samoan, Tongan or Cook Islander. I now know that the Cook Islands produce the best drummers in the South Pacific and my husband can even play a ukulele made from a coconut! I might also add, here that he can husk a coconut as well. The artists I know are creators of beautiful Tivaevaes, and whose works  really do hang in museums. They are also fabric painters and weavers. Don’t tell Ward, but I think I have fallen in love with yet another Tivaevae. Shhhh!  Let this be our little secret! The palaces of my former dreams now take the form of Maraes where investitures are performed. The Cook Islands are alive with a vibrant culture and this is my life now.

In my dreams, I imagined designer shoes and fabulous ways to tie a scarf. In my new dream life, my feet are always comfortable in flip flops and I have learned to tie a pareau so that I can make a skirt, a bathing suit cover-up or a dress. My designer handbag is made from weaving Pandanas leaves together and I am able to pick a flower for my hair on my way out of the door each morning. My life is not sophisticated. It is simple and it is sweet. It is made sweeter by the loving friends who have taught me so much by my just watching them. They have taught me lessons in faith, friendship, loyalty, creativity, love and dignity. They have taught me the difference between needing and wanting and through them I have learned to see the world in a purer sense. Through them, I have learned to change my priorities. My “Vespa” is a dented white van which I wouldn’t trade for the world because we can transport so many friends in it. It is ugly, noisy and you can hear us coming for a mile. This is my life now.

In my dreams, I lived in a small cottage surrounded by lavender fields. Typical French music would be lilting in the background. In my new dream of a life, I live in a white rock home with over forty palm trees in my backyard. I am lulled to sleep by the sounds of the surf and on many nights, I can also hear the drummers of our village.  There are no fancy boulevards for strolling. There only the back roads, where we are constantly dodging scooters and other vehicles.  While we are dodging, we are also laughing and waving at those who pass by us. They are our friends and neighbors and people that we have grown to love. This is my life now.

In my dreams, I thought that I would love to live in France. While I know that I will return to France for another visit or two, I also know that I will never live there. This last year has gifted me with a dream of a lifetime. I have a life in which I am no longer a tourist. We have become one with the island culture and even now, as I am writing this, I have to smile, because I just heard another coconut fall from one of the palm trees outside my window and there is a rooster crowing somewhere in the background. I will return to France one day soon, but it will never be my home. I am home now.

So, as usual, we are happy and trying to work hard. It seems as if the clock has sped up for us. It is the oddest of feelings to be so conflicted about the passage of time. On the one hand (no clock pun intended here), we are anxious to see you all again. We miss so much of what is home to us in America. On the other hand, we cannot bear the thought of leaving here. And can you imagine? There is even talk of replacing us! How is that possible? Why can’t we have it both ways? That, I suppose is the problem with fantasy. One must always wake up.  But for now, we will see you in our dreams!

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

Our old van carries precious cargo. In this case, it's the Grant children.

Calaia making herself at home.

 

The Belliston school of cooking. Lesson for the day: Cinnamon Rolls!

Showing off my latest (and hopefully last) Tivevae. The background is butter-yellow

with white flowers. My visiting friends, MaryBeth and Audrey insisted that I buy it. Well, if not insisted, they at least thought that it was a good idea.

This is truly artwork, Rarotongan style. Beautiful!

Our stone cottage. We have traded fields of lavendar for swaying palms. 

This is our idea of a cultured Monday evening. MaryBeth shows off her arm wrestling skills at FHE.

Our reality is better than any dream. Ka Kite and see you next week!

Adventures in Paradise 51

Adventures in Paradise 51

Kia Orana, everyone! Our excellent adventure continues with some thoughts on discovering that we may know far less that we think we do. That is a rather cryptic beginning, but the truth as I see it is that most of us don’t know what we don’t know. One of my recurring mistakes is in assuming that I know more about something than I really do. In truth, this revelation is not usually life threatening, but it can be life altering.

Months ago, I shared the story of my new Tivaevae. This beautiful Tivaevae was created by a master artist. We were able to meet and she tutored me on the correct procedure and stitches for completing the project. She carefully explained how I should go about the process and I appreciated the fact that she had left markers and indicators on the fabric that would direct my work. She had shown me the way to go and I had listened. I could follow the master teacher. Even if I were far removed from her, I would be able to finish my Tivaevae because someone who knew more than I had shown me the way. I had now become an expert Tivaevae stitcher thanks to her instructions………or so I thought. Can anyone guess where I might be going with this?

Last month, I fell in love again. This time the object of my affections was a tri-colored Tivaevae that I discovered at Saturday market.  As before, I was able to meet and speak with the designer, again this time  she endeavored to tell me how to go about the stitching. Although polite and attentive, I began to feel that she was telling me things that I already knew. I confess to probably not listening as intently as I could have. In my limited Tivaevae experience, I had mistakenly assumed that I knew enough. In my mind, this patient woman was telling me what I was already  well aware of. And to be honest, I think that I also wanted this woman to know that I was experienced; that I knew what I was doing. Now, can anyone guess where I might be going with this?

Where I am going is that when I brought my new treasure home, I very quickly realized that I should have listened much more carefully. I should have respected the experience that this woman possessed and I should have known that she had something valuable to tell me. Although  at first glance, my new Tivaevae seemed “easier” that my first, I soon realized that in reality it was much more complicated.  The green and white Tivaevae was labor intensive having so much pattern, that it would take a long time to complete. BUT the second, was much more difficult technically. There were overlays of design and there was a trick to stitiching them while keeping them aligned. I did not have the skill to complete it unless I spoke to this woman again.  My ego had come between me and what I needed to know. Does anyone relate to this?

                                    

So, I went back to market the next Saturday and spoke again to the designer and this time I listened. I learned that there were intricacies to my second Tivaevae that I had not imagined. I gained a greater appreciation for this art and, I have learned enough to complete my new prize. What I have learned is enough for now, but would not be enough should I try to become the creator. I also learned that I should recognize those around me who have greater knowledge and I should listen. I have learned that there are always going to be people in my life who know than I. I am reminded that I should respect that superior knowledge and seek it out.

When I was much younger, I thought that people my present age (information not available) knew it all, or at least knew enough.  I thought that their lives were settled because they had learned the secrets of living well. Now that I am this age, I realize how little I know and that life really is a continual learning experience. There are amazing things to learn and equally amazing people who can be our teachers and guides. Should I purchase a third Tivaevae, I will be more than prepared to hear what the creator has to tell me and I will listen! Asking for direction is not a sign of weakness. It is the mark of someone willing to learn.

Oh, by the way, I also learned that when you drop your digital camera into sea water, it will stop working. Several people offered advice for drying it . I tried using a hairdryer and covering it in a bowl of rice. It still didn't work. We are sending it back to America so that someone else can fix what I broke. We trust in their greater knowledge. There will be new photo adventures to share as soon as we can sort this all out. I believe that I have stated in previous blogs that I am still learning. This is the truth and I happily admit it!

As always, we are happy and trying to work hard. We are excited to be learning so much every day and are also grateful for the numerous times that we have learned from you. I personally, am very aware that the only thing that we all can take with us from this life is the knowledge that we have gained here and I am trying my best to acquire as much of it as I can! We miss you and I would like to invite you all to find something that you can teach me when we return home. I promise to be a good student!

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

                                                

This  always makes me smile as we pass it. Perhaps someone should have paid more attention when  instructed in the art of scaffolding! Listening to and following directions may have helped here!

See you next week