I shouldn’t wait so long to write – there have been so many
important experiences and I couldn’t recall them all. What follows is a potpourri of recollections
and experiences but first, some less important but interesting items on what
it’s like to live here:
1. Annie and I are
adjusting to the complications and uncomfortableness of living here. We are hot and sticky all the time except for
a few moments after each shower but it’s not been as bad as we feared – it’s no
fun but it’s not miserable (yet … they tell us we’re just moving into the hot
season). Food has been a major issue and
it’s amazing how physically and unconsciously you are tied to food that gives
you a familiar comfort and level of nutrition.
We long for vegetables, salads, and meat. There just doesn’t seem to be
a way to get these things at all, or at an affordable price if available so we
depend on our vitamin pills to balance our diet. The Fijian diet is very high
in starch and carbohydrates (cassava & taro), and fruit (pineapple, papaya
– which is called “paw paw” in Fijian, banana, and mango). They do eat fish when they can afford it but
Ba is not near the ocean so the common person here does not catch their own
fish (takes 30-45 minutes to get to the ocean).
2. Shopping is
frustrating, time consuming, and a riot. Most shops are typically small with
some theme emphasis but a little mix of a lot of things – mostly junk. If you want a nail you go here, hammer – to a
different place, and strangely, there are many hardware stores but only one
ever heard of a pair of pliers; some clothes here but not all clothing in one
spot; buy bread here but meat there and fruit in a different place; find a
needed item one place but they do not have two of them so you go elsewhere to
find it. Indian music is absolutely
blaring from speakers in many stores – so loud you can hardly hear yourself,
and to us it is not pretty music. Many
things available are made faulty, or are just plain junk and everything is
dirty, whether it be on the grocery shelf or the shop shelf most items will
likely have a moderate to heavy coating of dust and dirt on them. Not sure how they arrange all that dirt but
somehow they do. The open market is the hub and it’s neat to see the people who
have brought goods to market sitting mostly on the ground with a little cloth
out and their fruit or vegetables neatly situated on it for sale. You buy most things by the “heap”. A heap of cassava or taro, a heap of
pineapples, a heap of bananas, a heap of green leafy stuff (can’t as yet tell
what it is), a heap of ginger root, etc.
Eggs are never refrigerated, but then nothing here is because most
villagers do not have electricity or refrigeration anyway. Most things are a dollar or two per heap,
sometimes 3-4 dollars Fijian if it’s a large heap or an expensive item (right
now, 56 cents American is equal to $1 Fijian). There may be 50 vendors with the
same goods and we try to spread our purchases around to benefit different
people each time we shop, which is usually a couple times a week.
3. We live in a very
nice flat (by Fijian standards). Though
we battle with ants, cockroaches, and mice, we seem to be able to keep them in
check with Premetherin spray and we hope to find mice traps, which up to the
present seem non-existent (we like what the Geckos do but prefer they stay
outside). The flat is the ground floor
of a home owned by the Special Administrator of Ba – something like a powerful
mayor. His name is Arun Prasad and his
wife is Josephine, with a son Arush (9) and daughter Aditi (8). They are very nice and solicitous of our
welfare. Like nearly all people of means
here, they are Indian and we live in a neighborhood on a hill mostly developed
by his family that came to Fiji in the 1830’s as British indentured sugar cane
workers. In time, they progressed and
became a prominent family of educators and businessman in the area. The Ba population is about 80% Hindi and we
actually feel more like we live in India with a few Fijians scattered around
than the other way around. Most Fijians
live in the villages outside of town and are quite poor – there are exceptions,
but not many. Mr. Prasad is an absolute
go-getter. He has done much to benefit
the area and is energetic in his pursuit of projects and economic advancement
with gender equality for all Fijians (we think gender equality may have some
limits in his mind but overall he is quite progressive). He invited us to his
office the other morning and introduced us to many of the key individuals who
run things. He then asked if we would
serve on the city council in some capacity as “advisors”. We have yet to see how that might be done
appropriately given our missionary commission but it was gracious for him to
offer and we plan to do it in some form or another. Fiji was run by the British
for a long time and “morning tea” is an embedded ritual for the Indians. On the day we visited his office, Prasad’s
assistants had arranged a lovely tea of sandwiches, cookies, and Milo (which is
a chocolate malt drink) because we had formerly told him we do not drink
tea. It was a little formal, very well
presented, and fun to experience. A
funny event happened one day earlier when Mr. Prasad was speaking about
developing a racehorse track in Ba to draw tourists and dollars to the
area. I told him I had worked on a
racehorse track as a youth (exercising and grooming horses, and mucking out
stalls). He immediately proposed to
place me on the racehorse commission – which I politely turned down.
4. The area is lovely
with many sugar cane fields and while not as lush tropical as the east side of
the island, still there are plentiful coconut palms, banana trees, papaya,
mango, and a variety of giant fruits like breadfruit, jack fruit, and sour-sop
(not sure that is the correct or full name).
The Myna birds are everywhere and vocal as can be with a beautiful
vigorous call that starts early in the morning just before the sun rises about
5:30am and end about sundown, just in time for the Geckos to begin their
night-time chirping – it’s all very cool.
One of 4 sugar mills in the country is located here and we took a tour
the other day – watching the cane go into the crushers, being shredded, cooked,
and centrifuged until this beautiful sugar comes out. It was amazing. Jared would get a shock at the lack of safety
measures at the plant where there are hazards everywhere, little protection for
workers, and conditions that appear anything but sanitary. I think they spell the word safety like this
- “anythingoes.”
Now to the important stuff – our experience with the people
and the Church:
Most
members are Fijian although we do have several Indian members. It’s kind of ironic that the citizenship of
the area is mostly Indian but at this point the Church membership seems to be
just the opposite. Indians are better
educated and more organizationally savvy and therefore would provide leadership
skills needed quite badly here but teaching them has not, in the past, been too
successful. Most are Hindi but a few are
Muslim. So the Church membership in Ba is
largely made up of undereducated Fijians who can barely afford to even come to
Church on Sundays. Education in Fiji costs
money, precious money that many do not have so kids are educated in a sometimes
spotty manner (perhaps some semesters or years they will not have funds to go),
and the education level does not seem too rigorous. In Fijian culture, “organization” and time
are largely foreign concepts – the idea of having leaders who have mutual vision
and can cooperate, meetings that people can actually attend (most can’t afford
to come into the Church and when they do, they are on island time which
generally is 30-90 minutes late), and protocol that makes a meeting effective,
are all things that people here have not had the blessing of learning or
valuing. It’s interesting because those
things are very “western” in thought and practice but seemingly so necessary
for the Church to run anywhere.
Men
in Fiji are often quite handsome, tall, lean, and very strong – the perfect
rugby players, and rarely overweight (unlike the common image of other pacific island people). The saying goes: “In Fiji, men are real men, and the women are too!” But in general, the people are fabulous –
warm, loving, and appreciative. They treat
you as though you are very special when you visit them – not unlike the scene
in “Other Side of Heaven” where the missionary and his native companion are
walking along the beach and Groberg asks why the natives honor him so. They have some sense that you’ve left America
and travelled far to be God’s representative to them.
When
you arrive at a home in the village they warmly invite you in, no matter what
else may be going on. They gather the
kids and extended family together and you sit on the floor in a circle (usually
little to no furniture). They want to
begin with a hymn and oh my, you can’t believe how well they sing with such
enthusiasm and volume. Most, both young
and old know much of the hymnbook by heart and sing away without any
self-consciousness. Since there are no
windows (or they are always open if they do exist) and often no doors, others
in the village hear you singing and then children from the village start
appearing in the doorway or just come in and sit down. You’ve heard the saying, “It takes a village
to raise a child,” well that was never more true than here. A village is often a big extended family
anyway so in a home there may be parents, grand parents, in-laws, cousins,
brothers and sisters in a dizzying combination that makes it very hard to keep
track of who’s who and how they are connected (they don’t seem to have any
trouble though!). We never can figure
out where they all sleep.
We
went to a village to visit some inactive members and when we finished the song,
we heard the refrain being hum loudly from another home not far away. Then the words rang out: “Elders, will you
come to visit me too?” After singing
they pray with tenderness, reverence, and respect for Heavenly Father and then
we share a message of love and encouragement.
Since there are often non-members gathered, we address them and may
invite them to learn more. Then everyone
wants to sing again – always singing, before we pray and leave. Most Fijian homes have an evening (and
sometime morning) devotional where they sing, pray, and read scripture or share
testimony – it’s just routine.
Annie
asked at the village home we visited recently how they get the coconuts down
and husk them. An eleven year-old boy
named Alvereti jumped onto the coconut tree trunk, shimmied up and picked
one. The mother took it over to a piece
of re-bar they had embedded in the ground and pushed the coconut onto the bar
and with a few twists the husk was off.
Then she grabbed a big “cane-knife” and whacked it a few times around the
top and lifted off a lid, then passed it around for us to drink. Then, the little kids then grabbed it and
began to scrape out the meat and munch on it while we talked.
That
all sounds idyllic but things are far from such. Villagers usually don’t want for basic foods,
which they grow in their own gardens or have available in nearby trees, but they
have little variety and so little cash resources that they are crippled from
exploring the world and progressing.
They usually cook on a little fire outside the hut/home/shack and the
outhouse is just a little corrugated metal walled hothouse somewhere near
by. Things are dirty, buggy, and since
the homes are open, birds, critters, and vermin seem to freely wander in and
out.
Naming
the kids is a curious and colorful activity.
They all have multiple names, often a mix of both western and
native. We met one old Indian fellow on
the street who immediately asked us if we knew “Sister Bates.” Sister Bates and her husband served here 15
years ago and so endeared themselves to this man and his wife that they named a
daughter, “Sister Bates.” Why not? (As a side note- By the end of our mission both of us had a new baby named after us.) We understand that genealogy is a nightmare
here since the taking on of names does not follow a regularized protocol. Husband and wife often have different last
names, have adopted various names, and their kids may have last names that do
not reflect either of their parents. To
make it more complicated, they also change names regularly. We might know them as so-and-so one week,
only to later find them being called something else. It’s an oral tradition and makes perfect
sense to them but the Lord will have to sort all these relationships out
somewhere in the organized future so temple work can be done correctly.
We
have given several blessings to people -- a treasured experience. They have so little in material goods, but
are rich in faith and it seems natural to want to use the priesthood to bless
them. Two days ago we were visiting in
the Mateiwai family home where we are teaching the temple preparation lessons. A son had gotten a nasty infection in his leg
and it was all swollen up and he was unable to get around. We asked the father (a relatively new
convert) if he had given his son a blessing.
He said that the missionaries had given him some oil but he didn’t know
anything about giving blessings. So we
anointed his son and then I talked him through giving a blessing that was done
partly in English and part Fijian. It
was a sweet experience. The next day we
came back and the son was walking around smiling. They told us that soon after the blessing,
the infected leg burst and fluids ran out and Beni immediately began to feel
better. He said to his family, “Now I
know this is the true church.” As we
closed the lesson that night, Annie asked if they had any questions or wanted
to share any feelings. They are often
very quiet and thoughtful and you can’t rush things with them, so after some
pause, the mother said: “Since you first came I noticed how humble Sister
Sherry and you are. After you left the first time, I went into my room and said
to Heavenly Father that I want to be more like Sister Sherry. You have blessed our family.”
At
Church on Sunday, many of the less-active members we had visited attended. The stake president was there to put in a new
bishop and then commented to the members that we were there and that they
should “not squander this opportunity.”
One of the returning members whom we had given a blessing to a few days
before turned to Annie and said: “You are making a big difference here. I can see it in your eyes; I can feel it.”
While
in a store the first day in Ba, we visited with a young adult woman named
Tuliana. After our purchase we told her
what we were doing as missionaries and asked if we could come to her home and
share a message. She said she had
relatives who were members and she had attended the LDS Church in another
town. We set the appointment and went to
the home of her sister where she was staying.
We had a wonderful first discussion and then after we closed, her sister
Olivia, brought out plate after plate of special fruits, candies, and even ice
cream (don’t know how she pulled that off).
We enjoyed visiting together and then Tuliana walked us back to the car. As we were setting up another appointment,
Annie asked if her sister would like to also listen. She said that her sister would very much like
that and that she had wanted to come in that day but was too busy getting all
the treats ready. So the next week we
came back to the home and taught both of them.
Olivia was so excited to have us there and told us that it was all she
could think about and what a privilege it was to have us there to share about
God. She had tears in her eyes and said
she’d never had visitors come to her home to talk about God before. It was an extraordinarily humbling experience
to see her joy and simple faith.
Now for some of the more frank assessments of the difficulties
in Ba Ward (and likely not too foreign to most places in Fiji):
a. There are 309 members
on the MLS rolls with about 30 active. A history of problems including
tithing and budget theft, flooding which made use of the chapel impossible for
6 months, leadership conflicts, and a membership which didn't get along with
each other led to a depressed environment and significant inactivity.
b. After 16 months with
no bishop, and virtually no organizational structure in the Ba ward, a new
bishop and one counselor were sustained on October 30, 2011 by President
Maiwiriwiri of the Latouka Stake, which includes Ba. They are wonderful
men but have very little Church leadership experience and it will be a
challenge for them to succeed. The bishop is completely uneducated and
his only counselor has been a member for 1 year but was inactive for 7 months
of that year until recently. The stake president asked if I would assist them
in learning what a bishopric is and how to function.
c. There are few
priesthood holders who attend (perhaps the congregation is made up of 80% women
and children)
d. As in much of Fiji, we
assume, travel to Church is very complicated and problematic. Members in
villages would often like to come but can't afford the travel costs on Sundays
when public transportation does not run. Thus, instead of a dollar and a
half per person for a ride to town and back from many areas on public
transportation, it costs a family 10-30 dollars for a private transport -- an
almost prohibitive fee given their destitute cash circumstances (few are
employed and those that are earn less that $100/week). Many walk great distances because they can’t
afford a taxi or transport carrier (a little truck that you jump into and ride
to the general area you’re headed).
e. These challenges have
led us to a few conclusions: We should focus our efforts on conversion and
reactivation with people who live closer to the chapel; we should seek out
those men who have been ordained Priest, Elder, HP to reactivate first since we
assume they once had testimonies and were active enough to be advanced in the
priesthood; we should assist leaders in learning their duty and help the ward
get organized and staffed (not assuming leadership positions ourselves, but
assisting those who are called); and, we should continue to assist members to
prepare for temple ordinances.
We love this work and the people make it all
worthwhile. Any sacrifices we make to be
here seem insignificant when you’re sitting in a home hearing these faithful
people sing, seeing their smiles, listening to their sincere questions and
testimony, and feeling the love of the Lord surrounding them and filling all
with simple gratitude and joy.
