#27 "Falling & Bumping" (By Grandpa)

Dear Grandchildren,

You know the song, "Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer?" Well, our Grandma got bumped bad in a fall. Last evening, after eating dinner in a seascape restaurant, we were walking to an interesting neighborhood that we wanted to show to the two YVs who were in town and, in the dark, she stepped off an elevated step into thin air. She fell, mashing her left hip into the sharp, hard edge of a sidewalk tile, scraped her arm, and banged her ankle. If she had hit her head as she plunged forward, who knows what she might be facing. Today she is sore, as you can imagine. But she has soldiered through the day, including carrying a load of items to our church meeting. I am grateful that she was not hurt any worse. Who was it who said, "Getting old isn’t for sissies"? At our age, anything unforseen has the potential to be really serious.

Yesterday was the perfect day for a baptism. It began with rain and ended with rain. But in the meantime, by the time we reached the seashore to perform a baptism, the sun had come out and the Aegean’s waves were moderate. Fifteen of us attended, including the candidate, of course. We stood in a circle on the beach, sang a verse of "I Am A Child Of God," listened to a sister’s opening prayer, heard a talk on the importance of baptism by a YV who had taught the person, and then witnessed a brother baptize her in the Aegean Sea within sight of where the Apostle Paul sailed in these waters, and in the presence of the mother and the rest of us. After the two who got wet dried off and dressed, we finished the service inside an empty restaurant, an event that a friend had arranged, by listening to another YV talk about the Gift of the Holy Ghost and an older sibling talk briefly about covenants. The seven of us who hold the Melchizedek priesthood then placed our hands on her head as I confirmed her a member of the Church and gave the Holy Ghost to her. Our closing prayer and blessing on the food were offered by another sister. The restaurant staff then brought out a delicious meal and spread it on the table before us. One of our branch members announced to the two missionaries that his twelve-year old son should be the next one baptized.

It was unusual that the YVs had come at all. They had been teaching the person for several months and enjoyed a good relationship with her. A unique decision allowed them to come for the baptism from another city, and they added a lot both to the ordinance and to our church service (I asked them to speak at both events). We look forward to the arrival of such young people in the future. (We hope, we hope, we hope.)

The audible sigh of relief you heard came from me at the end of the four-week intensive Turkish class. Wow! That was a big-time pushing of the brain. My brain. And it has still not stopped. I have pages and pages of notes and a bunch of things that I need to memorize. So I am set up for the next two or three months while I decide whether to plunge in again. Maybe, maybe not. I haven’t felt that kind of pressure since I was in graduate school. To her credit, Grandma acted as if I were back in school and gave me the time and space to do homework and the like. I now possess a measure of confidence in entering a conversation with another person. But I am by no means accomplished enough to carry on a conversation for more than a few seconds. Tops. My Turkish is still a big mess.

The peaches have finally disappeared from the store shelves. They were wonderful while they lasted. We now see more apples and pears and plums besides tomatoes and cucumbers and other later fruits and vegetables. Grandma's salads are still wonderful. We have stopped going out so much and eat our evening meals in our apartment. I like that arrangement much better. Besides, the weather has turned cooler. We have to retreat inside restaurants, even though owners keep tables and chairs outside. Inside, the temperature is a little warmer and the smoke is harder to detect. Our diet has been healthy. Generally, Turkish foods are full of good ingredients. But I miss the variety of salads that we used to get at Arab restaurants. Until last Saturday. At our lunch following the baptism, the restaurant, at the encouragement of the friend who made the arrangements, graced our long table with some really nice salads to accompany the meat dish. I liked the arrangement a lot. We may return there for the next baptism. At a pretty good cost, I might add.

I love you all and pray for you.

SKB

#26 "Walking Walking" (By Grandpa)

Dear Grandchildren,

What do you know about losing muscle mass? I think that I have been losing that kind of stuff. Certainly my bike riding muscles have gone. Whoosh. I could afford to buy another bike, but I don’t like the high prices that I find in bike shops around here. And my watch and wedding ring are a little looser than they have ever been. I didn’t know that hanging onto bike handles two hours a day made that much difference. But evidently it does. Discovering these things shows that I am learning something every two or three weeks, in spite of how I seem to be doing in my Turkish class.

Speaking of my Turkish class, I almost quit ten days ago. I was completely flummoxed. I came home and complained to Grandma that I was being buried, that I was not grasping in the least what was going on, and that my brain cells are dying faster than they are being replaced. After my mini-tantrum against myself, I finally calmed down. I am still in the class. It ends Friday. I now have some language equipment with which to survive here, but I find that it doesn’t come to mind when I need it. You know, a slow brain.

I have never done so much walking as I do here. I thought that I was more or less allergic to this kind of exercise back home. After all, when I walk there, all I see are the neighbors’ houses and lawns that look better than mine. Such experiences could lead to depression or some other similar disease. But here, everyone is safely stored inside an apartment building. The only lawns are in parks. And there are a lot of trees, something that Joel would appreciate. Besides, my walking takes place early in the mornings. In a very nice nearby park. I walk on the walking-jogging path and I take twenty-two minutes to complete the circuit of the park. It is a nice way to begin the day and I get to memorize (again and again) a bunch of Turkish verbs. I shall probably keep on walking until the wet weather arrives.

I went to Istanbul twice this past week. The real story is the traffic. Gayle and I took the Metro into town last Tuesday. No one stood for her and gave up a seat, even though in Izmir it happens all the time for her. Evidently, in Istanbul even the young men remain seated in the presence of the elderly. Then our trip back to the airport was a long, long taxi ride. Mostly bumper to bumper and endlessly stopping and going. When I went Friday and came back Saturday, it was more of the same. Three of us from the branch presidency traveled to Istanbul this latter time. And our luck with traffic was hardly better. I think that I have spent seven or eight hours in a taxi during the past week. I don’t recommend it, even if you want to try it.

You have all discovered the power in being the last person ready to go anywhere. Certainly some of you recipients of this message discovered this principle when you lived as children in our home. In our situation here, that is my only real leverage. When we are going somewhere, the last one of us into the bathroom or into the bedroom to fetch an item wins the power contest. The other one has to wait. It is simple but powerful. In this case, the last one wins. Every time, without fail. Write it down.

I love you and pray for you.

Grandpa Brown

#25 "Little Blessings" (By Grandpa)

Dear Grandchildren,

Just surviving my Turkish class last week was enough. By Friday afternoon, I felt wrung out. I don’t know how I shall fare during the next two weeks. Sometimes, I feel that my brain is really old. Perhaps oddly, I still remember Arabic that I learned from a tape and workbook forty years ago. But Turkish? Some sticks in my head, but much else doesn’t. It’s as if I have Teflon in my brain.

But there is some good news growing out of my Turkish class. I have gained a little confidence in talking to people whom I need to contact. For example, I needed to set up our newly called branch clerk, who speaks hardly any English but does speak four other languages, for a training meeting in a week or so. I decided that emailing him would do little good because of his very limited English. I telephoned. Between his fractured English and my fractured Turkish, I communicated enough to get from him the needed information so that I could get his airline ticket. I felt a sense of empowerment. Or something like that.

The thing that has been keeping my thoughts rolling a lot during the past couple of weeks was a scheduled visit of Elder James Hamula of the First Quorum of the Seventy and his wife. An assistant historian from the church history library in SLC also was coming. This third person was a student in Jerusalem twenty years ago. I didn’t worry about him. It was the other two who worried me. They arrived last evening about 11:30 p.m. I went to the airport with a van to meet them and escort them to their hotel. Then today Elder and Sister Hamula spoke in our sacrament meeting. I had asked then ten days ago via email. They agreed. I gave them topics. Sure enough, they talked about what they wanted to talk about. I was happy because it was they speaking in our meeting. Any topic would do. Then we went to Ephesus where the apostles Paul and John spent a lot of time. I had taken extensive notes on the site. I reviewed them carefully. I felt that I added good stuff to what the guide was telling them. On the way back to the city, Elder Hamula and I had some very interesting conversation about the Seventy in scripture. It is evident that he has thought and studied a lot about his role as it is set out in scripture. We were back home by 7:15. I felt tired but glad for the chance. I anticipate more such visits in the future.

The news from Ankara hurts me to my toes. The cowardice behind an attack on innocent people goes beyond words. A nearby street has been closed off and on for protests since then. Many people are wearing black. I keep wondering when it all might stop. But someone always has a grudge to settle and this seems to be the way to settle old hatreds. What Mormon and Moroni disclose about their own civilization seems in part to be playing out on our modern stage.

I hope that you are well and safe. We are.

I love you and pray for you.

Grandpa Brown

#24 "A Serious Entry" (By Grandma)

Dear Family,

As you know my blog entries are usually a bit tongue-in-cheek.  I’m not sure how that translates into other languages, but you all know what I mean.  That is how Pluperfect deals with life, a little bit off- kilter.  But for once I think I’ll send a serious entry.

We were saddened by the huge loss of life in this country this week.  It put a pallor over all of us.  How can this happen?  Why does it happen?  As I’m writing this, there are 100 caskets being put into the ground, flags are half-mast, families are mourning.

Our life here continues to be one of little ups and downs, bits and starts, joys and disappointments.  We often don’t know what the day will bring until it has come and gone.  But this week-end seemed to bring a huge renewal of spiritual energy, a reason why we are serving here, a witness that the Lord cares about all peoples, everywhere.

We knew that we’d have Elder Hamula, his wife and Reed Nielsen visiting our Branch from SLC.  We were to arrange a tour of Ephesus for them after the services.  Kent did the airport pick-up, made arrangements, and this morning went to see them off.  They are going to the next city this morning.

Our Sunday services were wonderful.  The Hamula’s spoke and so did Reed.  We’ve known Reed since he was one of our Jerusalem students 21 years ago.  They are basically touring to gather local histories of members of the church.  Sister Hamula spoke about “Where one or two are gathered in My name, there I will be also”.  It was so true of our little branch.  We can have 3-12 in attendance.  We had 12 Sunday, but that included a lot of “us” types.  She said she’d never been in such a small branch, but felt the Spirit of the Lord was there, and she teared up when we sang each song : “I Need Thee Every Hour”, “Love One Another”, etc.  (I’m the chorister.  I print the songs in English and Turkish)

Elder Hamula spoke about the Sabbath day and read promises from the scriptures about honoring the Sabbath Day.  Interestingly he did NOT mention “do this and don’t do that.”  But he said being in “holy” places and partaking of the Sacrament, and then following the words of the sacrament prayer was Honoring the Sabbath.  He also spoke about PEACE, and how only living the commandments and following the Savior would bring PEACE.  Of course that is so evident today.

Reed spoke about recording your life.  (He is in the Church History department of the Church and is here getting “local pioneer” stories from members.)  He said the only way we know anything about ancient prophets, God’s dealing with people, etc., is through written records. 

This time the sacrament was prepared by our newest local priesthood holder, and another local member.  Another local member did the real-time translation for our member who speaks no English. 

I provided refreshments:  baklava, nuts, and a cheezie curly thing.  The hotel provides water. 

The visiting afterwards was great.  The guests wanted to meet the local members and hear about their conversions.  Previously, I’ve written about the animator.  I was able to introduce him to Elder Hamula and tell him all about him.  The animator had just brought along another newspaper clipping of his awards and, low and behold, the clipping had a photo of Kent and me at his award ceremony.  His journey through the church is outstanding.  He carries with him a small journal that the missionary who taught him gave to him.  That missionary died in the mission field in a fall days before his baptism in the Ukraine. 

We toured Ephesus with the visitors.  That was a unique experience.  We had a local guide, as required by law, but Kent was also able to teach us and we read from the scriptures about Paul and his visits and letters to the saints in the area.  We sat amidst the ruins, looked out towards the Sea, and read aloud some of Paul’s words.  I had remembered that in the last conference President Monson had talked about Paul and listed six things he taught us. 

The day was full!

Well, it has been wonderful to have a renewal of spirit and energy here.  We have to remember “where one or two of us” is where we are right now.  It may stay like that, or it may expand.  We pray for expansion.  Kent now has a full Branch Presidency.  And that Branch Presidency now includes most of the Branch.  Like he says “there are more chiefs than followers”.  But these are great men with hugely diverse backgrounds.  And one speaks almost no English.  This week-end they’ll travel together by air to Istanbul for training meetings, including trainers from Russia. 

A sad note:  After we left the meeting, we saw a young family, husband, wife, and daughter, outside the hotel.  They had tried to find our meeting, but the hotel couldn’t direct them.  They were “investigators” and friends of one of our members.   They promised to come next week.  We hope so!!!!!  They looked like they were early 30’s. 

Well, if you are still reading this, we love all of you.  We hope your lives are going well.   And if you are so inclined, we’d love to get emails from you.

Love,

Mother

#23 "On Firehoses" (By Grandpa)

Dear Grandchildren,

You know how the old saying goes for being overwhelmed, "Drinking from a fire hose?" That’s a perfect description for how my first week went in the intensive Turkish class. Even if you figuratively try to close your mouth, you can’t. Everything comes at high speed and does not diminish one tiny bit. The scene which tells it all for me came during the last hour on early Friday afternoon. A Chinese woman, who seems to inhale the language, and I were paired by the teacher for a short conversation that grew out of what we had "learned" during the week. For some odd reason, I didn’t get the jump on her. Instead, I was slow to the punch and she began to ask me questions. Simple questions. But my brain was cramping big time. She would ask a question and I struggled and struggled to think of an answer in Turkish, let alone say any words that could be remotely thought of as an answer. As soon as she paused, in my weird exhaustion I blurted out a question so that she finally had to answer. Ahhhh. That felt much better. I was doing the short part — asking the question — and she was doing the hard part — formulating an answer. Naturally, because she is such a natural, she just rang out the answers as fast as I could think of something to ask. To everyone in the class, it must have been comical to see my woefully weak interaction with her strong, solid grasp of things.

One of the nice elements in my class consists of three students who all graduated from Cal Berkeley. They are from southern California and I happened to say that I had graduated from Cal. They immediately jumped on our college connection. Even if I struggle, I still have some caché with those three.

My birthday was wonderful. I heard from a lot of family members and a couple of friends. I was really touched. Grandma and I went out to dinner at a restaurant that had been recommended by an acquaintance who lives in the city. The taste was very good, the amount was modest at best, and the price was right up there in the stratosphere. The whole experience would have been fine except for one thing. We chose to be seated inside the restaurant where no smoking is allowed. At least, that is what two posted signs say. (People who sit outside in the nice evening air are allowed to smoke, and do.) But some older gentleman, who was sitting with another three older gentlemen, lit up. Whaaaat? I thought. So we said something to the waiter. He went to the old man (he is no longer a gentleman in my book) and asked him to stop. He responded, we were told, that it is hard to get around and he is old. Before we left, he had lit his second cigarette. We shall vote with our feet and not go back. The next time I see my acquaintance, I shall tell him of our experience in a restaurant that he recommended.

I have changed where I walk in the mornings from the waterfront to a nearby park. One word describes my reason — dogs. The last time I walked along the bay, a second pack of dogs ran at me. I decided to switch places. So I have been looking for a stick. I bought a cheap umbrella in the old market. The fellow who sold it to me went on and on about how sturdy the most expensive umbrella was. When I didn’t buy it, he launched into how fine the more expensive umbrella was, showing me how sturdy the metal pieces were underneath the umbrella’s fabric. I bought the cheap one. All I wanted was something to swat a nasty dog. We went with my first counselor Saturday to a little, picturesque village in the mountains and I spotted a nice stick. It is three feet long and is just the thing for swatting if I feel cornered. Hooray, now I am ready. But I haven’t seen any dogs in the park in the mornings. Mostly cats and kittens. But call me semper paratus, "always prepared," the motto of the US Coast Guard.

I should really be studying. But I want to write to you. On Sunday we shall host our first guests from out of the country. I shall write to you more about it next week. It will involve a trip to Ephesus. We shall see whether my preparation pays off in making the visit more interesting, especially pulling in more connections to the world of the New Testament. During this month, we are looking forward to two baptisms, one in the branch of a boy who lives almost four hours away but whose mother and aunt are diligent about holding a Primary each Sunday. The other will be of a sibling of two YA church members. They are all being taught via Skype. Cool. What is the expression? "By small means ..."

I love you and pray for each of you every day.

Grandpa Brown