Monday, April 25, 2016

#69 In a Distant City (By Grandpa)


Let's begin with today. This is our first Sunday away from our little branch since we arrived. My first counselor reports that the singing sounded like the "alley cats choir." Grandma always takes her iPhone with a recording of the hymns for the day, and the music helps to keep us on tune. I don't know what the three reported investigators thought about the music. I hope they have the courage to come back. Even when Grandma and I are present, my voice helps almost not at all and my counselor is little better. 



Today began with the baptism of a sixteen year old fellow who is the nephew of a branch member here. I confirmed him in sacrament meeting. We went to another hotel and used the pool for the baptism. The water was up to the necks of the fellow and the branch president who baptized him. Because the branch president forgot to say the fellow's name, he had to baptize him twice. That's what witnesses are for, to catch those things. I was one of the witnesses. And (ahem) I noticed the omission, even in Turkish.

Twenty-two people showed up for the Sacrament Meeting. Only four of us were not Turks -- a woman from the Philippines, a woman from the Ukraine, and Grandma and I. I was the only speaker for the meeting. Grandma taught Sunday School. My topics were on the First Vision and Moroni's visits. Grandma talked about keeping personal records (journals) and told stories from our family to illustrate. It was a nice experience for us. The branch president was the translator. An awful lot of work for him.

What was impressive to me was that there are four families who are the rock foundation of the branch -- father, mother, children. Most of them are new to the Church. But they seem committed. The young fellow who was baptized and his fifteen year old friend I can see eventually as YVs (there is already a serving Elder from this branch in the MTC headed for Germany where more than a million Turks live). Two other Turkish speaking missionaries from this country are already in Germany and enjoying success. I see the Lord bringing the message to this people through multiple doors.

I love you and pray for you.

Grandpa Brown

#68 Gaziantep (By Grandma)




Dear Children,

Check out our FB page for photos of this town. It is near the Syrian border and is a teeming city.  The bazaar reminded me much more of bazaars in Egypt than those I've previously seen in Turkey:  copper, tin, spices, jewelry, hand made items, and narrow streets.  But no hawkers.  No one paid us any mind.  

Our host here is the BP.  He picked us up at the airport.  Took us to a hotel,  to a mosaic museum and then to the bazaar.  That evening Dad gave a fireside to about 20 people.  He spoke on the Last Days of the Savior's Life.  They had major food afterwards including stuffed grape leaves and stuffed egg plant. The fireside was translated as dad spoke. 




Today began with a baptism.  It was a young man, 16 years old. He'd been taught through Skype by elders in Ankara.  Dad was a witness.  The baptism was in a lovely pool in hotel.  Dad also confirmed him.  I took sketchy notes so they could be translated for him.  

We then went to another hotel for church services.  Dad was the main speaker.  He spoke about the first vision.  He did a great job.  I thought I was also speaking but evidently I was the SS speaker. I had the whole time.  I spoke about record keeping.  I knew one woman there didn't read or write so I encouraged grandchildren to help record stuff for their grandparents like Heather and Julianne had done for grandmother Oblad.  I said my mother had nearly been blind so my granddaughters gave her a huge gift.  

We are back in our hotel room now and in a couple of hours we will go to the BP's house for dinner.  I expect a feast because that is how Turks are.  They are very generous and we love their food.  

This Branch was only created in September.  It is twice the size as ours.  Most are relatives. They are very much pioneers in this part of the world.  We fly back to Izmir tomorrow.  We assume our tiny branch missed us.  

Love,
Mother

PS
I have 3 new FB friends from here now. Technology is really a wonderful connector.  One is a Philippino, one an Ukranian, and one a Turk, the BP's wife.  I can't pronounce any of their names.  Jacquart is a breeze compared to Turkish names.  

Monday, April 18, 2016

#67 "Istanbul" (By Grandpa)




Dear Grandchildren,

Let’s call this an anatomy for a disastrous trip. As many you may know, we attended a zone conference in Istanbul last week. Wednesday we went to the airport in a taxi. I recall clearly the MP telling the driver to go to the Iç Hatlar terminal (domestic). Our trip was rather quick by local Istanbul freeway standards. We were in a delay for only about three kilometers because of a four-vehicle accident — ran into each other’s rear ends. We went through the traffic spigot where five lanes collapse into three just before the security booth which leads into the airport. Then our driver flew past the domestic terminal and headed for the international building. That should have been our first clue. I then said in my best Turkish, "Iç Hatlar." I could see the disappointment on the driver’s face as he began to drive around the long looping road that leads back to the tangled spigot and security booth. But he had taken us to the wrong place.

When he dropped us off, we were about twenty yards from the doors that lead into the airport building. A line of yellow concrete barriers had been placed along the roadway to keep vehicles from coming too close to the building. I was thinking that someone was responding to the terrible bombings in Brussels. As before, we passed through two security checks inside, one as soon as we walked in the doors and one before reaching our gates after getting our flight coupons.

When we went to the airplane, all who were waiting for the flight piled onto one bus, not packing it. I thought, "This must be a half-empty flight. Plenty of room." Then the bus drove and drove, taking us to a very distant part of the airport where dozens of planes were parked. That should have been a second clue. We climbed off the bus and struggled up the stairs with our heavy carry-on bags (made heavy by the purchase of a few "little" items). The plane already had a dozen or more Turkish Air flight attendants sitting in seats, including exit row seats that I had requested when we arrived at the check-in desk. In addition, a number of seats were already filled. So much for a roomy flight. The plane began to move as soon as everyone had settled into their seats. We rolled along for a few minutes and stopped. The plane sat in one place for a half-hour. Dead still. After the full thirty minutes, the pilot came on the intercom and told us that we were waiting for a break in the landings that were taking place on the landing strip in front of us, a landing stip that we had to cross to get to the take-off spot. What? I thought. How is it that the people in the tower can’t figure out that a bunch of planes are backed up near their distant parking spots and can’t get to the take-off air strip? (If that airport is the eleventh busiest airport in the world, as it proudly proclaims, it needs to act like it is part of the first world and not part of a tin-horn outfit.)

At last, we were allowed across the landing strip. Then the plane stopped again — for another half-hour. By now we were in the queue to take off with a big bunch of other planes that had also been waiting their turns. About fifteen minutes into this second half-hour delay, someone in the back began yelling, not angrily but, well, firmly. About a third of the passengers began clapping at his words. Thirty seconds later, a male flight attendant headed to the back of the plane, evidently to calm the fellow, or threaten him. Naturally, there must have been a bunch of people on our flight who were missing appointments and other important events because of the seemingly unnecessary delay. As you might imagine, as soon as we landed a number of people made a mad dash toward the door. It didn’t help much. Our arrival was an hour late without any intervention by Mother Nature. And that’s the truth.

To top off our flying experience, when Grandma opened her hindi sandwich (turkey) served during the flight, not a shred of turkey was visible. Only a thin, small slice of tomato and an almost fresh piece of lettuce. So she got the attention of a very nice flight attendant who swapped the sandwich for one with real hindi in it. Something to write about.

While in Istanbul, we went to the huge cistern that is underground near the Hagia Sophia Museum/Church/Mosque. After the Turks captured the city in the spring of 1453, they had no idea that this cistern existed. It had been built to store water for use in the nearby Byzantine palace. It was only discovered when authorities became aware of people lowering buckets through holes in their basement floors for water and the same people dropping fishing lines through the same holes and pulling up fish. Fish still swim in that water.

We lose our first YV tomorrow. He is headed home after a stop in Istanbul. When he came at the end of last October, he was charged with opening an entirely new area and training a greenie. In my humble judgment, he has done well in both assignments. We shall miss his good, pure spirit and his electronic skills. He was a good teacher and related well with his contacts. I have caught a bit of news about his replacement, though his identity has been kept under wraps. The next one, I think, will be terrific. It will be interesting to see how the trained greenie and he will move things forward.

Next week we head to another branch where I am to give a couple of firesides and Grandma is to say some things about family history in a Sunday School class. The branch president is a prime candidate for her to interview as a pioneer member. He has a most interesting history. More on that later.

I love you and pray for each of you.



Grandpa Brown

Monday, April 11, 2016

#66 "Seussical" (By Grandpa)

Dear Grandchildren,

As you know, Larissa finally nailed one for herself. And for her resumé. You are aware that, in Salt Lake City, she has been working almost around the clock for weeks as the director and choreographer for the musical Seussical that initially debuted on Broadway in 2000 and is based on books written by the beloved Dr. Seuss. I am impressed that she did this while holding down a full time job (directors in Utah productions usually don’t get paid enough to keep their water jugs full), and while going back and forth to Vernal for one family thing and another. She deserves our warmest congratulations and admiration. Don't you agree?

We finally got him in the water. The elusive convert from a distant city. One plan after another came apart, whether because of government policy governing refugees’ abilities to travel or because of trying to make arrangements from afar in the capital city. Whatever the reason, all came to a happy conclusion in a spa of a hotel. The YVs went looking for a facility near where our new brother is living and found a spa with a very large Jacuzzi. So they called and made arrangements to rent the facility. I went with them on the train. I was to be the second witness. The google map showed that the hotel was ten minutes by taxi from the train station. It was actually 200 yards by foot. When we arrived, the YVs asked about a day room that we could rent for a short baptismal service. The hotel people had never heard of such a thing. So we went downstairs to the spa. The fellow showed a massage room to the YV and the investigator where they could change clothes and then he disappeared. We had the place to ourselves. In a tiny alcove, we sat together and prayed and talked about baptism and the gift of the Holy Ghost. Then the YV and investigator stepped down into the big Jacuzzi. The rest was sweet. The investigator came up from the water with a big grin on his face. After the two changed and we gave our newly baptized brother the unspeakable gift of the Holy Ghost, the father of three of our young branch members led us to a restaurant where we enjoyed a celebratory meal together. (This father is not a member, but he allowed his two older children to be baptized when they lived abroad — the youngest one was not yet old enough but has since been baptized.)

There is an interesting footnote to all of this. Besides the ideal conditions for the baptism that we found, the fellow who was running the spa met us (by chance?) on the street following our meal in the restaurant. He was curious enough that the YVs gave him a pamphlet on the plan of salvation and got his contact information. Let’s see where this might lead.

We were twenty-three today in Sacrament Meeting. Nine were in the hotel room that we rent, the other fourteen joined us by Skype, including our recent convert from a distant city. Anticipating that we would confer the Melchizedek Priesthood on one among us, my first counselor spoke about the power and authority that belongs to this priesthood. After his talk, while those on Skype were still with us, I ordained our Turkish brother to the greater priesthood, ordaining him an Elder in the company of the other Melchizedek Priesthood holders in the room. It was a wonderful moment for me. I sensed that this man has an important future role to play in this country. I was honored to be a small part of that experience.

We flew to Istanbul this afternoon for a zone conference tomorrow. Our ride from the airport was the quickest we have experienced, going though a lot of back roads to miss the traffic on the freeways. The conference should be a good set of meetings. We shall meet for the first time the new SV couple who arrived in country just over two weeks ago. He was a YV years ago in Italy with our current MP. By now, they should be acclimated to their new time zone and all that. They go off to Armenia late tomorrow for some humanitarian training. The time zone is two hours ahead of here even though a person crosses only one border and flies about three hours. They will like Yerevan, I predict. It has a totally different feel from Istanbul. For one thing, Yerevan is much smaller and the streets are broad and uncrowded. And it is a Christian country. So the make up will be different for them. Whether they will like it less or more than here I cannot predict. Each has its own charm. That's what makes this region so interesting. All that charm.

I love you and pray for you all.


Grandpa Brown

Sunday, April 10, 2016

#65 "Typing with 10 Fingers" (By Grandma)

This is from my iPhone.  So it may be brief.  Can't type with 10 fingers.  One finger isn't very fast.  I Notice some texters using both thumbs.  However is that possible ?  

We are in the airport waiting to fly to İstanbul.  We'll be there for 3 days.  It is Zone Conference.  

Airport security has changed since we were last here 3 weeks ago.  They have more security checks.  And as usual I always set off the alarms and get the pat down. Maybe the silver fillings  i had in my teeth 70 years ago are triggering the alarms.  Or maybe it is my steely grimace when I go through security. 

It was fun to see photos of grandchildren and children in action this week.  Thank you.  I'm glad you can all be connected even without us. I check my mails 40 times a day for any word from you.  Well, maybe only 39 times a day. 

Initially I said upfront I didn't want to be a CES sr missionary.  I knew that the woman spent a lot of time preparing food.  I'm not very interested in food preparation.  But guess what?  We aren't CES missionaries and I still "get" to prepare a lot of food.  

Yesterday the elders were here for 7 hours.  They decided they wanted to watch conference.  So I fed them.  Then Dad was giving a lesson to YA's at dinner time so I fed them. Then I took snacks for our Sunday meeting today.  

I saw a nice recipe for a banana bread Deseret on Kara's and Kaelin's FB. It looked doable.  I bought some bananas and bread for the recipe.  I cut up candy bars for chocolate chips.  I had the other ingredients.  The picture shows it topped with ice cream.  I didn't have ice cream.  It actually turned out gross.  I couldn't serve it. Dad and I ate most of it.  Guess I'll just stick to my cocoa puff rice Krispy squares.  

My best menus are:  Hawaiian haystacks, chicken soup, spaghetti, hummus, tabbouleh, microwave popcorn and lentil soup.  I can also butter and toast bread.  

I wonder when the plane will come.  This is taking longer than I expected and my finger is tired .

Dad had a good week.  He will send the uplifting email soon

Love ,
Mother

Monday, April 4, 2016

#64 "Moving Target" (By Grandpa)


Dear Grandchildren,

Those who are returned volunteers from service in the field that is white and ready to harvest will appreciate the following story. It continues the story from last week. As I mentioned earlier, our YVs have been working with a fellow who is a refugee in a distant city. He was introduced to the Church by a man who lived in the same apartment complex and who had joined the Church long before arriving in Turkey (the member is now residing outside of Turkey). The YVs had set his baptism for last Sunday, Easter Sunday. Then the government decided it didn’t want refugees moving willy-nilly around the country. So the investigator was stuck and could not receive permission come. Ahhhh. That was tough news. After the YVs visited him a week ago last Saturday, he received a phone call from someone representing the UN who said that the refugee was to be in the capital city on Friday for an interview that could start the process to relocate him in another country. (North America is where most people want to go.) So the YVs began to scheme and plan how they were going to travel to the capital city and baptize this fellow because the branch there has a font. One scenario was to meet Friday late for the baptism. Another was to have the refugee apply for permission to go a day earlier and then Thursday would be the baptism date. One of the complications was that the refugee had to borrow money to take a bus because the UN does not pay transportation for such interviews. Finally, after going round and round, all seemed to be set for Friday evening. Then ...


Then Wednesday a fellow from the UN calls and says that the refugee’s appointment was cancelled and that a UN guy would call the next day. The refugee was beside himself. He had hoped for this interview for months and months, living in a smelly, cramped room and eating who knows what to survive on $30 a month for food. So the planned baptism was completely undone, with the YVs calling their fellow YVs in the capital city and cancelling all the arrangements. On Thursday, the same UN bloke calls and says to the refugee that he was to be in Istanbul the next day for his interview. Just as originally planned. Whaaat?? One wonders why these guys can’t get their schedules straight. So the YVs are thrown into another round of planning and scheming, wondering whether they can arrange to go to the capital city and take care of the baptism in the branch’s font. They called me a couple of times just to bounce one scenario and another off me. Should they plan the baptism for Friday night? Because the refugee had to stay overnight and did not have money for a hotel room, should they call someone in the branch to see whether he could stay in someone’s home. And because he needed to stay until Monday to take care of some business at his home country’s embassy, should Monday be a day for the baptism? Would those extra days cause trouble for a branch member who opened the door to the refugee? And so forth and so on. In the end, the YVs decided to wait until Tuesday of the coming week to see whether the refugee actually returns his room in the far city and doesn’t stay longer in the capital city for further business. Maybe this week we shall see this fellow in the water. Maybe. The Yvs have called a spa and asked about renting the Jacuzzi. The spa guy said fine.

This weekend was our branch conference, complete with the MP and his wife. We have been long-time friends, so it was rather natural to have them around. After I met them at the airport yesterday afternoon, Grandma and I met with them for an hour and a half. We then enjoyed a social evening and fireside last evening. Seventeen showed up. I had estimated twenty-five and have to pay for that number. We enjoyed a couple of meetings today, not General Conference. All of us who met at the hotel today came to our apartment for lunch. Of course, those who had joined by Skype were not in the neighborhood. The shoes in our apartment’s entry hall tell part of the tale. For our Sacrament Meeting, I gave a talk, a sort of "state of the branch" talk. It was short. We hit twenty-nine in attendance, seventeen in the hotel room and a dozen joining us by Skype. A total of nine people were in the investigator category. A sister from up north and a non-member couple with their two children arrived late for the services. But they came for lunch. Grandma has been knocking herself out for a couple of days trying to get the food ready. She outdid herself, as usual.


One of the dimensions that I worried about for our branch conference was whether everything was arranged and in place. Well, yes and no. And almost. One item that I forgot was to get the two persons together before the reading of the sustaining list, the one who read it in English and the one who translated it into Turkish. So their back and forth was amusing as they began. They soon found a rhythm and ended the sustaining list in good form. Another that I did not get done had to do with arranging for the prayers, both the invocation and benediction as well as the sacrament prayers. I had intended to take care of those items before our Sacrament Meeting, but some little needs popped up at the last minute that I needed to deal with, such as getting enough chairs into our hotel room, and I never got to them. Fortunately, Grandma was a good sport and offered the opening prayer after leading the music. And the rest worked out too. I guess that it was all a success because I was not released in the middle of it all.

I love you and pray for you each day.

Grandpa Brown

#63 "Whew!" (By Grandma)

I'm pretty tired!  As dad mentioned we've been busy with Branch Conference.  My role is often to feed "everyone".  The problem is that we do not know how many "everyone's " there will be.  So do I make a huge macaroni salad and have most of it left over or do I make a small amount and not have enough ?  I'm constantly looking over the people at church and wondering if they will come for dinner.  In my mind I keep adjusting portions.  I know this is really fascinating to all of you.  

I only have a small toaster-like oven.  So I can't prepare a lot of stuff. Most of it has to be stove-top.  I've found IKEA meatballs.  They are great. I can put a little barbecue sauce on them and heat them and our guests are impressed with my culinary skills.  Actually it is my ability to get to IKEA to purchase them that should be applauded.  Those meatballs have saved my day.  When I didn't have enough I put some more in the microwave and everyone had enough.  

We have a very good group for dinner.  We had seven non-members, five children, two elders, MP and wife, and six members.  And we even had some pasta salad left over.  I also served beans, tabouli, hummus, olives, chips, and stuffed grape leaves. We had fruits and cookies for dessert.  

One visitor asked if he could bring some Turkish food next time.  It was his first time at church. I told  he was welcome to bring food any time.  He may be a keeper!  Time will tell.  He even speaks some English. 

We had church as usual on this General Conference.  It will be awhile before talks are available in Turkish.  Then only about 25% are translated into Turkish.  The İstanbul BP is one of the translators and is in SLC.  

We'll have a good week. I love you all!

Mom