September 4, 2014
Dearest family and friends,
We find
the days fly quickly by and it's hard to keep up with the accounting of
them! I started this letter last Thursday, but I'm going to send it
anyway, so just pretend this was last week! ha! 8/28/14: Today we find
ourselves once again in Tamatave, a city about 7-8 hours north-east of
Tana. This is the town filled with bicycle driven pousse-pousses...the
local taxis! It really makes driving very difficult when the
pousse-pousses are 3-4 deep on each side of the street and they dart in
and out of each other without looking. Compound this with motor
scooters, trucks and cars, people, chickens, goats and dogs, and you
have a big traffic mess. It's a real feat to even get a 1/2 a mile down
the road without hitting something...I told Steve I draw the line at
hitting people (but I've had to ease up on the battle not to hit side
mirrors! Ha!) We have come up to bring new bicycles to the area for the
new missionaries. Steve is also setting up another routine maintenance
program with a local Malagasy bike repairman, who happens to also be one
of the Branch clerks here. I love it when we can provide business to
members who are qualified to do it! Since Tamatave is a coastal town,
the bikes take a real beating from the salty air, sand, and horrific pot
holes that ravage the city. We are hoping that by getting someone on
board to routinely tune up and maintain the bikes on a monthly basis, we
can have fewer mechanical problems. When the bikes are down, the
missionaries can't get out as easily to do their work. Steve is
currently in a little shop with our repairman, buying parts, and I am
out in the car writing this note. It's overcast but warm today and I am
surrounded by the sites and sounds of Tamatave...people's voices,
motorbikes passing, the sound of bicycle bells, children laughing and
the periodic Muslim 'call to prayer' which is broadcast throughout the
area on a loud speaker from the local mosque. The street is lined with
tiny 'lean-to' type shops selling everything from bike parts to
electrical parts, to plastic containers, to clothes interspersed with a
myriad of little food stands. There's also the ever prevalent little
orange stands selling phone minutes...typical life in Madagascar. One
difference here is the clothing. Since it's usually quite hot here, most
people are in shorts, t-shirts or wrapped in a 'lamba', which is a
colorfully printed piece of thin cloth, much like a Polynesian LavaLava.
Many women just wrap this around themselves and tuck or tie it in the
front. It's cool and comfortable. Bare feet and flip flops abound.
Luckily we are just coming into Spring and because it is cloudy today,
it is not too hot...yet! I can feel the humidity, and I'm grateful the
heat hasn't set in all the way.
Because the town has salty air, many of the buildings are run down
and oxidized, or just abandoned, or perhaps never even finished...one
just doesn't know. But in either case sometimes I get the feeling I'm
witnessing a bombed out WWII town, where life has just gone on around
the destruction. There is a beach that runs down the main part of town
and it's fun to see the ocean and accompanying palm trees for a change
from city life. This was one of Brad's favorite areas to work in when he
served here. We appreciate the change of climate and scenery!
We are also here to check on the cleanliness status of the
missionary apartments and Steve is installing new smoke and CO detectors
in them. We feel fortunate that we do not have much CO risk in this
mission as all the heaters and dryers, etc. are electric (plus, they
don't even need heaters in Tamatave), but we always want to be on the
safe side...especially since hearing of the two missionaries who lost
their lives in Taiwan from CO poisoning. We have been working on this
project for a few months and were unable to find CO detectors in Mada.
Last week an Elder's dad came to pick him up and brought some detectors
for us from the States. We are grateful!
Two Sunday's ago we were able to join the Mission President, the
assistants and the other senior couples, for a drive to Moramonga and
attend church there. This is a little town about 2 hours outside of
Tana. A branch had been started here several years ago, but new church
directives called for using the missionaries in "centers of strength"
and the mission has been unable to place missionaries here for some
time. The wonderful thing is, this little group has bonded together and
they plug away as best they can. There are some wonderfully faithful
members here with a fantastic group leader who monthly drives to Tana to
pay the tithes and offerings for this sweet group of Saints. When we
arrived, they treated us like royalty. They love to shake everyone's
hands and the women often greet with cheek to cheek "kisses" (3 'cheek
to cheek' air kisses--think Europe here). During the meeting, the MP
announced that a few of the senior couples would be sharing their
testimonies...wouldn't you know, I was one of them!?! My heart started
racing as I tried to think of something worthwhile to say, then quickly
decide whetherI could say it in Malagasy?!? I knew I couldn't speak very
eloquently in Malagasy and had a quick debate in my mind whether to
share a simple testimony in their language, or have deeper thoughts
translated by the missionaries. I decided on the former, and with shaky
knees (only in front of a group of 58 people), and a prayer in my heart,
I bore my testimony and shared a few simple thoughts in Malagasy. I
know it was far from perfect grammar or pronunciation, but they seemed
to understand and appreciated my wobbly efforts. That's one thing about
the Malagasy people that I absolutely LOVE...they really do try to help
you with the language and are so appreciative of any effort you make to
speak Malagasy. I loved looking into their faces and speaking to them,
heart to heart, and spirit to spirit. I was well rewarded for my efforts
and it only strengthened my desire to study harder and get better at
this language. It's difficult when you don't get the opportunity to
speak it all day as we are often at the mission home, or working on
things that don't require constant interaction with Malagasy people. So,
I know mastering this language won't be a quick process, but I'm
determined to give it my best shot (did I say, "mastering" this
language...I mean "bungling through" this language (haha!). During
Sunday School, Steve and I joined the missionaries in a discussion with
some investigators. We love it when we get the opportunity to share
gospel basics along with the missionaries. After church, we stopped by a
beautiful river to eat the lunches we had brought for the journey. It
was a lovely and rewarding day, and a highlight for the week!
This past week was beyond busy as the mission prepared to
welcome 14 new missionaries on Wednesday, followed by a mission tour
with Elder Hamilton of the 2nd Quorum of the Seventy. I was busily
putting a power point presentation together on staying healthy in the
mission, as I do this for all new missionaries and I wanted to
standardize the presentation. In the middle if all the preparations,
Steve got terribly ill. He had body aches, 102 fever, terrible diarrhea
and vomiting...the dreaded Madagascar intestinal bacteria! By the second
day of extreme illness, I took him up to the hospital for cultures and
to rule out Malaria ( a long shot in the area we live in, but standard
procedure when someone runs a fairly high fever for more than 2 days
here). It was negative but the stools looked bad so we got him on a
couple of antibiotics. Fortunately by the next day he was feeling
better...finally! It was a rough one! He was well enough to join us for
the area Mission conference with the Hamiltons on Saturday. It was a
wonderful and uplifting conference and a treat to be taught by a general
authority. He spoke a lot about how to use questions in teaching and
did a bit of role play with all the missionaries. He is a very skilled
teacher, but I guess I wouldn't expect any less from a leader of his
caliber! Following the conference, and an adult meeting with the members
after which the senior couples hosted a dinner for the Hamiltons. We
did a "Cafe Rio"esque' meal, Malagasy style (aka: lots of
substitutions! Ha!) and it was wonderful. Another full, but rewarding
day.
I should mention, however, that the morning of the conference
my office was inundated with Elders with one one problem or
another...once again the ever present ingrown toenail issue, headaches,
allergies, diarrhea and the like. One Elder, however, had sliced his
index and middle finger pretty substantially the night before while
cutting bread. He had me look at the cut before the meeting started.
Part of it was pretty deep, so I hauled him down to local Malagasy
clinic for suturing. This happened just after I had already helped a
visiting dentist who had come to present at a local dental convention
and to bring dental supplies for several orphanages in Mada. While on
his trip up to Tamatave, he stopped at a lemur park. While there, he had
fallen and lacerated his elbow. He tried to wash it best he could with
soap and water and wrapped it in toilet paper, but by the time he got
back to Tana, 36 hours later, he had a full blown cellulitis in his arm.
I was helping to soak and dress his wound and got him started on
antibiotics, but it was so red and swollen, I was terribly worried about
him. In any case, after the suture job on the other elder, which I
won't go in to detail on, we were a few minutes late for the Zone
conference. But all's well that ends well, right?
The visiting dentist's arm continued to get worse, so I finally
took him into the ER and got some different antibiotics. Thankfully
that did the trick and he finally started to get better. In the US, they
would have put him on IV antibiotics! It's difficult for me sometimes
to find the equivalent antibiotics here as the names are different or
they don't exist...and when I can find them everything is written in
French. I'm catching on to what I need to do and know, however, and
feeling more comfortable. I'm grateful for the support of the Area
Medical Advisor (Doctor) in South Africa with whom I can consult on
difficult cases. Frequently I'm reminded that, "I'm not in Kansas
anymore"! Ha!
Let me tell you about our first significant truck mishap...not
to mention the minor fender bumps and scratches that have already
occurred....oops!! Anyway, Steve was trying to turn our "most difficult
to turn" truck around in the middle of traffic on a narrow two lane road
in Tamatave. He really needed to make a 3 -point turn, but felt the
pressure of lots of traffic waiting for him, so he just did a a two
point turn. Just a as he went to finish the turn, I saw a piece of meta
sticking up on the side walk and it popped our tire! UGH!! There we
were, stuck on the side of a busy narrow street, in about 2" of soft,
reddish dirt, without one thought about how to proceed to change the
tire in the middle of things. There was Steve in his white shirt, tie
and slacks and with little knowledge of the spare in this truck. We were
painfully aware of our limited language (like the word for "tire",
"jack", etc.). We were about to try and find a gas station or someone to
pay to help us, or something..we didn't quite know what, when up rides a
man on a scooter. Soon after another man stopped. With no words from
us, except 'thank you', the two men went to work. They knew exactly
where the jack was ( behind the back seat, thank you very much, who
knew?!?), how to get the spare from under the truck; one found two rocks
to chock the back tire and went to work. In abut 10 minutes they had
the flat tire fixed, the old one in the back of the truck and the jack
safely tucked back away! You can't imagine our relief! We felt very
blessed, indeed! We gave them each 5,000 Arirary (about $2.00)and they
were happy as clams (you have to remember an average wage here is
about$60.00 per month; so making a day's wage for 10 minutes work was
pretty good!)...needless to say we were so relieved and thankful. We
were impressed with the kindheartedness of two strangers who, without
hesitation or fanfare, jumped in to help two stranded foreigners. We
felt they were heaven-sent!
Before I close this lengthy missive, I would like to share a
sweet experience I had last Sunday. We had to drive about 8 hours back
home from Tamatave on Sunday so we went to an 8:00 AM Sacrament meeting
in order to get an early start (one really does NOT want to be on the
windy, unlit roads after dark). This 8:00 am branch (there are 5
branches in Tamatave) meets in a large, white, old French 'villa' of
sorts. The bottom floor, where they have the largest gathering area, is
for Sacrament Meeting.The floors are concrete and the chairs are
stacking chairs placed in rows. There is a wooden stand and podium at
the front of the room, with 2 large vases of plastic flowers adorning
the fronts of floor speakers which stand on either side of the podium.
The thing that really touched my heart that day and was truly a 'tender
mercy' to me, occurred during the Sacrament. While we sang the Sacrament
Hymn, I glanced over at the priests who were preparing the Sacrament.
They were doing so with such humility and care. The white cloth covering
the emblems of the sacrament was deliberately and reverently folded
back. When it came time to bless the broken pieces of french bread (the
most commonly found bread here in Mada), I watched as one of the young
priests knelt down upon a small, plastic covered pillow on the concrete
floor. He humbly blessed it, repeating carefully the sacrament prayer in
Malagasy. The young deacons stood like a little army at attention, but
with heads bowed and arms tucked behind them, wearing white shirts and
ties, while the sacrament prayer was recited. I don't know why this
scene touched my heart so, but the tears started to roll down my cheeks.
I thought of our Savior and what He might be thinking as he looked over
this little congregation, gathering in an obscure little building in
far off Madagascar, to humbly bless and pass the emblems of His
sacrifice; His atonement, for all mankind. A sweet and emotion filled
feeling spread throughout my body. I knew that He was pleased with what
He saw. I knew that He was aware of this beautiful group of faithful
saints who had gathered in humble circumstances to honor and obey Him,
to make and keep sacred covenants and commitments. I knew that He loved
them; as my love for them was filled to overflowing. I had a thought
that our eternal salvation is a very individual thing. It is up to us,
no matter our race, culture, or circumstance, to develop a personal
relationship with our Savior, Jesus Christ. It is up to us to work out
our own salvation. I knew without a shadow of a doubt that we are all on
an "equal playing field" if you will, when it comes to the work of
salvation. Each of us must be committed to keep the commandments, to
strive to become more like our Savior, and to love and serve our
fellowmen. These commandments can be lived be everyone...EVERYONE,
EVERYWHERE.. I felt it a privilege to worship with my Malagasy brothers
and sisters that day and catch a glimpse of God's love for them, for me,
and for each of us. I want to remember that precious moment as it
reminds me of my responsibility to strive to be better, more patient,
worshipful, obedient; a better disciple of Jesus Christ. I'm grateful to
serve here, for the lessons I can learn, and hopefully, the service I
can render.
Steve and I love this opportunity to serve as missionary
companions. We laugh together, sometimes shed a tear or two
(OK--probably more tears on my side), but overall love sharing our
mutual experiences while living and serving here in Madagascar for a
season. Our thoughts and prayers are with you all!
With love,
Steve and Michele
PS. Thank you to those
who have e-mailed us…we appreciate it more than you know. We love
knowing what’s happening with you and yours. God Bless!!
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