This is Monday morning, and we leave Taveuni for the last
time on Wednesday. We will then spend a
day in Suva, fly to Nadi and go to Ba for a couple days to visit friends there,
and then return to the United States on Saturday, the 23rd. In the amusing realm of artificial time
markers and international datelines, we will leave Fiji at 10pm on the 23rd
and arrive in Los Angeles at 1pm the same day (nine hours before we
leave!). After a 5-hour lay over, we
will fly to SLC and arrive there at 9pm.
We trust the kids in Utah will be there to welcome us and we so look
forward to it – we are ready to go home.
We will then spend several weeks visiting each of the kids in Utah and
Washington before arriving back in Corvallis around the 17th of
April to finally be home and be with Seth and Caroline, Tommy and Cali. We can’t wait to drive down Crescent Valley
Drive once again and to pull into our home we love so much.
How can I sum up all these months of hardship and frustration,
challenge, sweat, bugs and critters – all at contrast with the intense feelings
of love and gratitude we have developed for many people in Fiji? Just can’t do it, such contrasts. Perhaps like all missions, there has been in
reality more difficult times than good ones.
But also like most missionaries, with time we hope to feel that the good
experiences outweighed the bad. This has
been a hard mission. The living has been
difficult and that is combined with the frustration of trying to help Fijians who have accepted the gospel learn how to be participating members and leaders in the Church – oh,
what challenges and barriers exist to administering the Church here!
Notwithstanding the difficulties, we have had moments of
intense and eternal love with those we’ve taught and with whom we worked. At those times, we realize the promise made
to us in our call issued from President Monson’s desk that we would have joy
beyond our previous experience, truly has been fulfilled. It is impossible to adequately express in
words the feelings we’ve had while sitting in little shacks, on the woven mats
we enjoy so much and with wonderful friends, communing beyond our language
capability the deep feelings made possible only through the Spirit.
Poverty and all it’s inevitable reach into every aspect of
life is something we’ve never had a close experience with before. It permeates everything from food
availability, to possessions of convenience, to education, to health, to government services (or, complete lack thereof), to outlook and hope. For the most part,
these people simply have nothing, and there are not a handful of them who have
a job from which they can earn cash.
When we bring a simple picture, or a video on our computer, people of
every age begin to gather and light up.
Music! A picture! Just to see
one, to hold one, to imagine – something they have very little exposure
to. To see a picture of themselves that
we’ve take and put on the computer has brought such pleasure to them. I remember in Sister Mate’s home in Ba how a
little piece of broken mirror and a hair pick were prized possessions and were lovingly
placed on a piece of material draped over an ancient TV that may never have
worked but made a good shelf and still sat in the corner (besides, she had no electricity!). It was as though two treasures were being
presented to view. Not sure they ever
used them, but there they were as if to say, “In this home, we have a mirror
and comb!”
Poverty also has terrible and real consequence. It takes a
grievous toll on health, on outlook for the future, on education, and on
opportunity. It’s not pretty and the down
side is very real and pervasive. With few teeth, lots of daily struggles and
disease, and a short life span, the people here move forward in a very stoic
manner, not asking for attention or sympathy because everyone else is in the
same boat. But still, as we’ve emphasized in our blog posts, you could not find
a happier people. Their simple life
focuses on the joy of being together, of play, of joking and laughing, of
bathing in the river and jumping in the ocean, of knocking down a mango or
papaya to munch on, of running after each other, of the daily games of rugby,
soccer, or volleyball with a ball half flat and cover torn off. I laughed the other day to find a very large
group of young adults gathered at our church to play volleyball and every few hits
they ran to the sideline to inflate the ball with a cheap little pump we
bought. Barefoot and scantily clothed --
but oh how they laugh and joke with each other as though life had provided for
them every needful thing.
Life matches and conforms to the poverty and the rhythms of
nature. You wake up to the light and the
call of the rooster, you go to bed when there is no light left. No money for shoes? No problem, from the time you’re born you
just run around barefoot and the soles of your feet harden like leather, so you
don’t really need shoes do you? No money
for furnishings in your home? No
problem, the voi-voi plant is just outside and you can harvest, boil, dry, and
weave a mat to sit on. No need for
chairs, or sofas – just sit on the floor with your family and friends and
everything is fine. No electricity? Well, who needs computers and TV, and air
conditioners, and the endless things that cost money anyway. No refrigeration? Then we’ll just raise food that doesn’t need
it and eat what we harvest today, tomorrow will take care of itself, and
Heavenly Father has provided most of what we need to eat anyway. No stove? Well, we have sticks and people
have cooked over open fires outside forever, what’s wrong with that? No plumbing?
It’s Ok, we have the rain water and can dig a pit outside to use as a
toilet. It’s raining? Then let’s all go out to play and take our
“rain bath”! It’s always warm in Fiji
and the rain doesn’t make you cold, so what’s the problem? We’ll take off our simple clothes (purchased
second-hand, or given to them, or handed down), and wash them in the river and
hang them out to dry. But what if it is
rainy and they don’t dry? We’ll just
wear them wet, it’s not cold anyway.
Need to go to town but have no money or car to get there? Just walk!
We went to a meeting the other day on Rabi Island and a leader we asked
to attend (though we had no idea where he actually lived), had walked 17
kilometers to be with us. No complaint,
no grudging attitude, no request for sympathy. He carried a pair of shoes with
him and upon arrival he reverently put them on to enter the chapel. When it was time to walk home, he removed
them and left to walk back home with no complaint.
Still, the poverty keeps you down, the government doesn’t
work, and the opportunities to change your circumstances are few. As summarized by our good friend, Saimone
Nairoqo, “Everything is broken in Fiji, even the weather.” We’ve really experienced this and it is
discouraging to live here and so hard to get anything done, with barriers to
success being woven into every aspect of Fijian life.
One day, we will all be stripped of the possessions and
materialistic trappings of life. We’ll
pass into the next world with just our character, our accumulation of thoughts
and actions we chose to shape our mortal experience, and the friendships and
loved ones we’ve nurtured and been blessed by.
Then, we’ll stand before the Lord just as we are – the person we’ve
become. All the inequities of this poor
world will have faded away, been compensated for, and seem to be but a
dream. In that day, we hope to be worthy
to stand with so many who have truly loved and sacrificed for those around them
and made life better. We will join arms
and shed tears of joy to be forever with those who loved the Lord and
righteousness and the children of God, and there will be no barriers that
separate us. Our mission has sharpened
this focus and our appreciation for the Lord and His children throughout the
world, whom we have come to love with all our hearts.
