August 20, 2010 Friday
Two sweet women have passed through our lives today. First is Julia Eastland. She’s the woman who came to Broome to help her daughter who had tried to commit suicide. Julia arrived 10 months ago and couldn’t find the church up here. When we came, a friend of hers in the Jandakot Ward had given us her phone # so we contacted her and got her coming to church. What a delightful woman she is and has been such a great addition to the branch here. She’s 79 and has been divorced for 30 years. She loves church history and can tell you all kinds of things about the early church brethren that she read ages ago and can still remember. She’s got a great sense of humor and makes us laugh with her funny way of expressing great wisdom. Today she called to say she’s flying back to Perth tomorrow to help out her granddaughter whose boyfriend has left her with a tiny baby. We will miss her so much.
And then today we visited Joan Newman. She’s the woman who came to the Family History exhibit and said she felt her father was telling her to do her family history. Joan is about 80. Her husband died 15 years or so ago. She has 4 children whom she refers to as “The Executive Committee” because they seem to be in charge now that she’s a widow. What a fun lady to talk to! First off, she hadn’t had time to get on the family history because she’s finishing up her art certificate at the local community college here. Her husband worked in the mining industry with the Aborigines in figuring out what land could be used for mining and what was sacred land and had to be left alone. She’s lived all over Australia mostly in small towns. She loves Broome because it’s small and easy to get to things. She lived here years ago when they had their first child and there were no air conditioners or fans! I can’t imagine surviving that, but she is very upbeat and happy with her life. She has great faith in God and says the only way to get through life is to turn it over to “Him.” She attends the Anglican Church, raised her kids in the church but none of them go anymore. It’s so common here to run into people who are so faithful yet none of their children even consider God to be a part of their lives. She said we could visit her again. We are going to get her the free download of the Legacy Family History program and put it on her laptop for her. She’s heading south when it gets really hot here and will work on the family history down there which is where her father’s family came from.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
GARY, FRITZ, & THE POSTLE
August 19, 2010 Thursday
Trivia today: We knew we had a gecko and finally saw him last week. I guess he’s decided that we aren’t too scary because he’s just hanging out in plain sight this week. A couple of nights ago, I came out to the front room in the dark, switched on the light, and there at my feet was Gary, the gecko. He hurried under the couch. The next night he was on the ceiling over the kitchen counter. So I took his picture. He didn’t seem to mind the first one, but he scooted a few inches away whenever the flash went off after the first photo. This afternoon, he was on the ceiling when we came home for dinner and has stayed there ever since. He must like us. We like him ‘cause he eats bugs.
Remember the frog in the toilet? We hadn’t seen him since that first time in June. So we’d gotten a little lazy about turning on the bathroom light in the night to see if he was there. Well, the other night he was sitting on the toilet seat and was almost squashed before he jumped to the bathroom floor. My husband, the family dragonslayer, picked him up inside a washcloth and then threw him outside on the grass. Since he’s come back now, we’ve given him a name too, “Fritz, the frog.” Kind of goes with Gary, the gecko, don’t you think?
Yesterday, we went over the Robinson’s with the bread run. Renee, the branch president’s wife, proceeded to tell me I needed to go get a “postle” (like apostle only without the “a”). I had no clue what a “postle” was. They repeated it several times and added details that it was at the post office and she couldn’t pick it up because it had my name on it. Finally, the clueless American figured out it was a “parcel.” One of these days maybe I’ll totally understand the Aussie accent, I hope.
Good news—we were finally able to talk to our Brazilians again. We were worried they were “dogging” us. They believe the Book of Mormon is true! Our big problem is finding time in their crazy schedule to teach them. And we have to get them married, too. We heard a talk Elder Holland gave to some mission presidents. In it, he mentioned that missionary work is always hard—we believe him.
Trivia today: We knew we had a gecko and finally saw him last week. I guess he’s decided that we aren’t too scary because he’s just hanging out in plain sight this week. A couple of nights ago, I came out to the front room in the dark, switched on the light, and there at my feet was Gary, the gecko. He hurried under the couch. The next night he was on the ceiling over the kitchen counter. So I took his picture. He didn’t seem to mind the first one, but he scooted a few inches away whenever the flash went off after the first photo. This afternoon, he was on the ceiling when we came home for dinner and has stayed there ever since. He must like us. We like him ‘cause he eats bugs.
Remember the frog in the toilet? We hadn’t seen him since that first time in June. So we’d gotten a little lazy about turning on the bathroom light in the night to see if he was there. Well, the other night he was sitting on the toilet seat and was almost squashed before he jumped to the bathroom floor. My husband, the family dragonslayer, picked him up inside a washcloth and then threw him outside on the grass. Since he’s come back now, we’ve given him a name too, “Fritz, the frog.” Kind of goes with Gary, the gecko, don’t you think?
Yesterday, we went over the Robinson’s with the bread run. Renee, the branch president’s wife, proceeded to tell me I needed to go get a “postle” (like apostle only without the “a”). I had no clue what a “postle” was. They repeated it several times and added details that it was at the post office and she couldn’t pick it up because it had my name on it. Finally, the clueless American figured out it was a “parcel.” One of these days maybe I’ll totally understand the Aussie accent, I hope.
Good news—we were finally able to talk to our Brazilians again. We were worried they were “dogging” us. They believe the Book of Mormon is true! Our big problem is finding time in their crazy schedule to teach them. And we have to get them married, too. We heard a talk Elder Holland gave to some mission presidents. In it, he mentioned that missionary work is always hard—we believe him.
WHAT HAPPENED TO THE MOON?
August 13, 2010 Saturday
We noticed this a few weeks ago when we were with the Cahoons, but I don’t think I wrote about it. Back home, a less than full moon stands on its end. Over here, it lies on its back. May some astronomy expert can explain it. My feeble mind hasn’t been able to figure it out.
We went out to the bird observatory this afternoon. The Broome Bird Observatory has more varieties of birds stop here than any other place in Australia. It’s located on Roebuck Bay which is on the east side of our peninsula. The local Town Beach is on the west of the bay and the Observatory sits on the northern side of the bay. Cable Beach, the big tourist draw, is on the west side facing the Indian Ocean. Its sand is white/gray. Roebuck Bay’s sand is red. The rocks around the bay and all the way around the southern end of the peninsula are red and beautiful. In fact, when we were on the beach at the observatory, part of the ocean close to shore looked red. It was like something was under the water stirring up the sand. We took a picture. I hope it turns out.
The birds that stop here are on their migratory trip from southern Australia and New Zealand and will eventually end up in Siberia for the summer. They lay their eggs and start their chicks on the way to adulthood in Siberia. Sounds like a long trip to the maternity hospital to me. We did see a beautiful white egret standing in a mangrove tree waiting for something tasty to swim by. (The mangroves are almost covered during high tide and left standing in the mud during low tide.) There was a sign warning about crocodiles in the area. Strange, you don’t see any of those signs on the side of the bay where Broome is. The road out there isn’t paved and was quite sandy in places. A wallaby hopped across the road in front of us on the way back to town. I wasn’t fast enough with the camera to get his picture.
We noticed this a few weeks ago when we were with the Cahoons, but I don’t think I wrote about it. Back home, a less than full moon stands on its end. Over here, it lies on its back. May some astronomy expert can explain it. My feeble mind hasn’t been able to figure it out.
We went out to the bird observatory this afternoon. The Broome Bird Observatory has more varieties of birds stop here than any other place in Australia. It’s located on Roebuck Bay which is on the east side of our peninsula. The local Town Beach is on the west of the bay and the Observatory sits on the northern side of the bay. Cable Beach, the big tourist draw, is on the west side facing the Indian Ocean. Its sand is white/gray. Roebuck Bay’s sand is red. The rocks around the bay and all the way around the southern end of the peninsula are red and beautiful. In fact, when we were on the beach at the observatory, part of the ocean close to shore looked red. It was like something was under the water stirring up the sand. We took a picture. I hope it turns out.
The birds that stop here are on their migratory trip from southern Australia and New Zealand and will eventually end up in Siberia for the summer. They lay their eggs and start their chicks on the way to adulthood in Siberia. Sounds like a long trip to the maternity hospital to me. We did see a beautiful white egret standing in a mangrove tree waiting for something tasty to swim by. (The mangroves are almost covered during high tide and left standing in the mud during low tide.) There was a sign warning about crocodiles in the area. Strange, you don’t see any of those signs on the side of the bay where Broome is. The road out there isn’t paved and was quite sandy in places. A wallaby hopped across the road in front of us on the way back to town. I wasn’t fast enough with the camera to get his picture.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
GOD WHO?
August 8, 2010 Saturday
We finished up at the library and were out of there at noon when it closed. It seemed like we’d been there forever instead of just one week. But it was a good week, and we hope some good will come of it.
We taught a lesson this afternoon. Orson had contacted a lady a week or so ago who said her 5 year old son had been asking her some questions about where he came from (in a spiritual sense). She had no religious background at all and didn’t know how to answer him. She originally wanted us to come when her partner wasn’t home and had set up for us to come at 2 today. So we went and sure enough, her partner was home as was a family friend who works with him.
They were all sitting out on the porch drinking beer recovering from a garage sale they’d had in the morning. Narin, the mom, was nursing her youngest, a little guy named Brumby. (Have I mentioned that women are very casual about nursing—no cover-ups for them!) We chatted for a while about general stuff and then leaped ahead into the first lesson. When we asked what interested them the most from the brief overview, the husband explained he was a devout Roman Catholic until he was 14 when something happened and he decided he could worship just as well from home as in a church. Then Luke, the 5 year old, said he wanted us to explained stuff so he could understand it.
So I started out very basically and asked if he knew who Heavenly Father or God was. Nope. Did he know who Jesus was? Nope. Wow, I don’t think I’d ever run into somebody who was so “Gospel illiterate.” So we talked about Heavenly Father a bit and then went through the song, “I Am a Child of God.” We told them about Primary and the Friend magazine. Narin seems to really want her kids to know about God—she was never taught.
We borrowed some old Friend magazines from the branch president’s family today and will take them over. Hopefully we’ll be able to help them out a little. They are planning to move back to Queensland in a couple of months so it won’t be a long term teaching opportunity.
We finished up at the library and were out of there at noon when it closed. It seemed like we’d been there forever instead of just one week. But it was a good week, and we hope some good will come of it.
We taught a lesson this afternoon. Orson had contacted a lady a week or so ago who said her 5 year old son had been asking her some questions about where he came from (in a spiritual sense). She had no religious background at all and didn’t know how to answer him. She originally wanted us to come when her partner wasn’t home and had set up for us to come at 2 today. So we went and sure enough, her partner was home as was a family friend who works with him.
They were all sitting out on the porch drinking beer recovering from a garage sale they’d had in the morning. Narin, the mom, was nursing her youngest, a little guy named Brumby. (Have I mentioned that women are very casual about nursing—no cover-ups for them!) We chatted for a while about general stuff and then leaped ahead into the first lesson. When we asked what interested them the most from the brief overview, the husband explained he was a devout Roman Catholic until he was 14 when something happened and he decided he could worship just as well from home as in a church. Then Luke, the 5 year old, said he wanted us to explained stuff so he could understand it.
So I started out very basically and asked if he knew who Heavenly Father or God was. Nope. Did he know who Jesus was? Nope. Wow, I don’t think I’d ever run into somebody who was so “Gospel illiterate.” So we talked about Heavenly Father a bit and then went through the song, “I Am a Child of God.” We told them about Primary and the Friend magazine. Narin seems to really want her kids to know about God—she was never taught.
We borrowed some old Friend magazines from the branch president’s family today and will take them over. Hopefully we’ll be able to help them out a little. They are planning to move back to Queensland in a couple of months so it won’t be a long term teaching opportunity.
Armed and Ready to Fire
August 6, 2010 Thursday
Today at the library, a young man came in without a shirt on. That, in itself, was unusual in the library. But his tattoos were what caught my attention. He had two pistols tattooed on his torso exactly where they would have been if he had been wearing a belt and holsters. (Yes, his pants were riding low so you could see most of the guns.) It made me laugh. The dress code here in Broome is more relaxed than in places that don’t have a beach. No shoes is quite normal. A swim suit cover-up is often worn over a swimming suit into any establishment in town. You get used to it.
Yesterday Orson went downtown to tell people about our display at the library. He talked to one woman who was very excited to find out that she could come to the library and we would help her look on the internet for her grandfather. She showed up today while Orson was gone looking for our cell phone which has disappeared. (Notice, I said the phone did it—not that we lost it.) Anyway, the lady and I got on the computer and went to a couple of family history websites and did a search for her grandfather and came up with nothing. So, as a last ditch effort, I put his name into Google, and it worked! Some military organization here in Australia has put up all the information about veterans. Her grandfather was listed as entering the military in 1914. It gave his date and place of birth (which she hadn’t known before) and all kinds of stuff about his military service. She knew it was him because it gave her grandmother’s name as the spouse. She hadn’t even known he’d served in World War I. And get this, he signed up when he was 44! We then found a cemetery listing (again on Google) that told where and when he died and was buried. She was so excited. It was fun to be able to be part of that discovery.
Today at the library, a young man came in without a shirt on. That, in itself, was unusual in the library. But his tattoos were what caught my attention. He had two pistols tattooed on his torso exactly where they would have been if he had been wearing a belt and holsters. (Yes, his pants were riding low so you could see most of the guns.) It made me laugh. The dress code here in Broome is more relaxed than in places that don’t have a beach. No shoes is quite normal. A swim suit cover-up is often worn over a swimming suit into any establishment in town. You get used to it.
Yesterday Orson went downtown to tell people about our display at the library. He talked to one woman who was very excited to find out that she could come to the library and we would help her look on the internet for her grandfather. She showed up today while Orson was gone looking for our cell phone which has disappeared. (Notice, I said the phone did it—not that we lost it.) Anyway, the lady and I got on the computer and went to a couple of family history websites and did a search for her grandfather and came up with nothing. So, as a last ditch effort, I put his name into Google, and it worked! Some military organization here in Australia has put up all the information about veterans. Her grandfather was listed as entering the military in 1914. It gave his date and place of birth (which she hadn’t known before) and all kinds of stuff about his military service. She knew it was him because it gave her grandmother’s name as the spouse. She hadn’t even known he’d served in World War I. And get this, he signed up when he was 44! We then found a cemetery listing (again on Google) that told where and when he died and was buried. She was so excited. It was fun to be able to be part of that discovery.
JOCK (IS THAT “JACK” WITH AN AUSSIE ACCENT?)
August 4, 2010 Tuesday
There’s an old guy who rides around Broome on his motorized chair all the time. We figure he’s at least 80. He has an improvised sun-shade from which he hangs a cane. He’s always got a “bud” in his ear. It must be playing something really loud because when he talks, he talks really loud. Orson’s talked to him on the street and says he’s a nice old guy. One eye squints shut most of the time.
On Monday, he came into the library and asked what we were doing. We explained about family history and how it’s important to write down our memories so future generations will know about us. This morning he came into the library and plopped a small green notepad and a larger white pad of lined paper on our table. “Here,” he said, “Look at these,” and rode off. I didn’t see him leave the library, but he must have. So I started looking at what was in his papers. The small green notepad appeared to be a letter requesting that his passport be renewed. In it he expressed how stupid and childish it is that he has to answer a millions questions since they already know everything about him. He figured the government should just give him his passport since they take all his money in taxes. He used some very descriptive terms to describe how he felt.
The other pad of paper was lined, and he had started writing in it a month or so ago. He started off talking about the “boys” who had been sent to tunnel under the enemy lines in Turkey. (I’m reading a book about that right now. It was in World War I.) Then he flipped into some of his own memories of World War II. He must have served in the navy because he knew the size of every diesel engine on every type of boat in the navy, both Australian and German. He had also been a worker in the shearing sheds at one time or another. He kept bouncing around in what he was writing about. Sometimes I couldn’t figure out quite what he was talking about.
So I asked one of the librarians who he was. The answer: “Oh, that’s Jock. He’s always writing letters. He lives at the nursing home. He’s not here now or you’d be able to hear him.” I expected him to return to pick up his papers, but he didn’t. We are going to see if we can talk to him when we are at the nursing home next week. I would mind trying to put down on the computer some of his memories and then giving him a copy of it.
In the afternoon, a lady came in who had been in on Saturday. She sat down and said she’d come back to see us. She’s about my age. Evidently, she’s been married twice and has lost touch with her kids from her first marriage. She has a son from her second marriage who wants to meet his half-brothers. So she wanted to know how she could go about looking for them. I gave her some ideas (Orson had gone to lunch) and she went on her way. I think the best thing that’s coming out of this whole family history thing is that people are seeing us as just people who want to help out and not some crazy folks who will preach to them at the drop of a hat.
There’s an old guy who rides around Broome on his motorized chair all the time. We figure he’s at least 80. He has an improvised sun-shade from which he hangs a cane. He’s always got a “bud” in his ear. It must be playing something really loud because when he talks, he talks really loud. Orson’s talked to him on the street and says he’s a nice old guy. One eye squints shut most of the time.
On Monday, he came into the library and asked what we were doing. We explained about family history and how it’s important to write down our memories so future generations will know about us. This morning he came into the library and plopped a small green notepad and a larger white pad of lined paper on our table. “Here,” he said, “Look at these,” and rode off. I didn’t see him leave the library, but he must have. So I started looking at what was in his papers. The small green notepad appeared to be a letter requesting that his passport be renewed. In it he expressed how stupid and childish it is that he has to answer a millions questions since they already know everything about him. He figured the government should just give him his passport since they take all his money in taxes. He used some very descriptive terms to describe how he felt.
The other pad of paper was lined, and he had started writing in it a month or so ago. He started off talking about the “boys” who had been sent to tunnel under the enemy lines in Turkey. (I’m reading a book about that right now. It was in World War I.) Then he flipped into some of his own memories of World War II. He must have served in the navy because he knew the size of every diesel engine on every type of boat in the navy, both Australian and German. He had also been a worker in the shearing sheds at one time or another. He kept bouncing around in what he was writing about. Sometimes I couldn’t figure out quite what he was talking about.
So I asked one of the librarians who he was. The answer: “Oh, that’s Jock. He’s always writing letters. He lives at the nursing home. He’s not here now or you’d be able to hear him.” I expected him to return to pick up his papers, but he didn’t. We are going to see if we can talk to him when we are at the nursing home next week. I would mind trying to put down on the computer some of his memories and then giving him a copy of it.
In the afternoon, a lady came in who had been in on Saturday. She sat down and said she’d come back to see us. She’s about my age. Evidently, she’s been married twice and has lost touch with her kids from her first marriage. She has a son from her second marriage who wants to meet his half-brothers. So she wanted to know how she could go about looking for them. I gave her some ideas (Orson had gone to lunch) and she went on her way. I think the best thing that’s coming out of this whole family history thing is that people are seeing us as just people who want to help out and not some crazy folks who will preach to them at the drop of a hat.
My Dad's Telling Me to do This
August 2, 2010 Monday
We were back at the Broome library this morning with our family history exhibit. We both worked it this morning then each took time off for lunch while the other stayed. I’d had good conversations with 15 or so people during the day. But one fellow from Spain refused to think that the church would provide access to its family history records for free without some hidden agenda. He didn’t stick around long enough to hear an answer. Anyway, close to 4:30, a fellow came in with whom Orson had talked last week. He sat down, and Orson and he had a great discussion over a variety of topics. He mentioned he’d been to Salt Lake in the 60’s and had heard the choir in the tabernacle. Anyway, while they were talking a lady about my age came up and said, “I need to do this.” So I showed her some of the information things we had and how to get started. She asked how long we were going to be at the library and if she could come back when she had some of the papers filled out so we could help her some more. I explained we were only there through the end of the week, but that we’d be happy to drop by her house to continue to help her or she could come to our house. She said she knew where we lived and that she lived just down the street. Then she told me that this morning she’d been looking for something and had opened a drawer in her search. In the drawer she found her dad’s scriptures. She decided to sit down for a minute with them to “talk with dad.” When she opened them, out fell several letters from a relative who had been old when she was a little girl. She then told me, “I just feel like my dad’s telling me to do this. I’d heard last week you were going to be here this week, so I came over to get some help.” She gave me her name and address so we can follow-up and help her as she moves along. I found it fascinating that a woman who lives a block down the street knows where we live. There’s nothing on the outside of our house that indicates missionaries live here. It would be so great if we can help her with this and then explain to her the doctrine of eternal families. What a blessing we didn’t fold up and go home an hour early!
We were back at the Broome library this morning with our family history exhibit. We both worked it this morning then each took time off for lunch while the other stayed. I’d had good conversations with 15 or so people during the day. But one fellow from Spain refused to think that the church would provide access to its family history records for free without some hidden agenda. He didn’t stick around long enough to hear an answer. Anyway, close to 4:30, a fellow came in with whom Orson had talked last week. He sat down, and Orson and he had a great discussion over a variety of topics. He mentioned he’d been to Salt Lake in the 60’s and had heard the choir in the tabernacle. Anyway, while they were talking a lady about my age came up and said, “I need to do this.” So I showed her some of the information things we had and how to get started. She asked how long we were going to be at the library and if she could come back when she had some of the papers filled out so we could help her some more. I explained we were only there through the end of the week, but that we’d be happy to drop by her house to continue to help her or she could come to our house. She said she knew where we lived and that she lived just down the street. Then she told me that this morning she’d been looking for something and had opened a drawer in her search. In the drawer she found her dad’s scriptures. She decided to sit down for a minute with them to “talk with dad.” When she opened them, out fell several letters from a relative who had been old when she was a little girl. She then told me, “I just feel like my dad’s telling me to do this. I’d heard last week you were going to be here this week, so I came over to get some help.” She gave me her name and address so we can follow-up and help her as she moves along. I found it fascinating that a woman who lives a block down the street knows where we live. There’s nothing on the outside of our house that indicates missionaries live here. It would be so great if we can help her with this and then explain to her the doctrine of eternal families. What a blessing we didn’t fold up and go home an hour early!
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
THE KIMBERLY CUP
July 31, 2010 Saturday
Okay, we acted like tourists this afternoon. We were at the library with the Family History exhibit in the morning. Orson left for a while and when down to the Courthouse Market to hand out flyers about the exhibit. In 3 hours time (all the library’s open on Saturday), we were able have good conversations with 13 people. There are all kinds of folks involved in Family History at different levels. We have 6 people so far signed up to be part of a Family History discussion group.
Broome has a very active turf club, and this is the season for its horse races. They’ve been going on almost every weekend since we arrived up here. The track is out on the way to the locals’ end of Cable Beach. It’s a huge track—1600 meters. There’s a grandstand, food vendors, etc. They’ve made it quite the dress-up affair for the women. Stores advertise, “Get your race dresses here.” Each week the local paper has an article about who won the “Best Dressed” contest as well as great write-ups on the races.
They run probably 5 or 6 races each Saturday starting at 1 pm. We didn’t get out there until 3 pm. We envisioned entrance to the formal part of the park being pretty expensive, so we drove around and were able to park right up against the fence by the track about 300 meters from the finish line. The first race we saw was a 1300 meter race. When we got out of the car, there were a couple of other ladies just down from us doing it the “cheap” way too. There were 6 or so horses in the race, and it was cool to have them go thundering by so close to us. Just a chain link fence separated us from them.
The 2nd race was announced as “The Kimberley Cup.” The purse for this one must have been bigger because there were 10 horses in this race. As they began to get ready for it, a tractor pulled the starting gate around to RIGHT IN FRONT OF US. We chatted with the workers as they got everything ready. Several more people showed up for the “cheap seats” next to us. The horses paraded in front of the grandstand and then came down to the gate. Talk about beautiful horses—it was hard to take it all in in the short time they spent in front of us before they were led into the starting gate. Two of them had to be pushed a little to get the small gates behind them closed. As soon as that was done, a quick check was made to ensure that everyone was okay on the other end of the horses, and the gates were opened. It was amazing how they all charged out. The starting gate was quickly pulled into the grassy area in the middle and the fence piece put back up. As they came past us again, a beautiful sorrel with a red saddle blanket and a jockey in black and white checks was in the lead. But then a couple of other horses burst out trying to overtake the leader in the last 300 meters of the race. The sorrel won anyway.
In the MTC, we were told not to become full-time tourists, but that we should take advantage of where we were to see the sights. The horse race was definitely one of them, especially since we weren’t able to take in the Pioneer Days Rodeo this year! We found out that admission to the Turf Park was only $10.00 each. We decided where we were worked just fine and we didn’t have to put up with people smoking and drinking around us! It was great.
Okay, we acted like tourists this afternoon. We were at the library with the Family History exhibit in the morning. Orson left for a while and when down to the Courthouse Market to hand out flyers about the exhibit. In 3 hours time (all the library’s open on Saturday), we were able have good conversations with 13 people. There are all kinds of folks involved in Family History at different levels. We have 6 people so far signed up to be part of a Family History discussion group.
Broome has a very active turf club, and this is the season for its horse races. They’ve been going on almost every weekend since we arrived up here. The track is out on the way to the locals’ end of Cable Beach. It’s a huge track—1600 meters. There’s a grandstand, food vendors, etc. They’ve made it quite the dress-up affair for the women. Stores advertise, “Get your race dresses here.” Each week the local paper has an article about who won the “Best Dressed” contest as well as great write-ups on the races.
They run probably 5 or 6 races each Saturday starting at 1 pm. We didn’t get out there until 3 pm. We envisioned entrance to the formal part of the park being pretty expensive, so we drove around and were able to park right up against the fence by the track about 300 meters from the finish line. The first race we saw was a 1300 meter race. When we got out of the car, there were a couple of other ladies just down from us doing it the “cheap” way too. There were 6 or so horses in the race, and it was cool to have them go thundering by so close to us. Just a chain link fence separated us from them.
The 2nd race was announced as “The Kimberley Cup.” The purse for this one must have been bigger because there were 10 horses in this race. As they began to get ready for it, a tractor pulled the starting gate around to RIGHT IN FRONT OF US. We chatted with the workers as they got everything ready. Several more people showed up for the “cheap seats” next to us. The horses paraded in front of the grandstand and then came down to the gate. Talk about beautiful horses—it was hard to take it all in in the short time they spent in front of us before they were led into the starting gate. Two of them had to be pushed a little to get the small gates behind them closed. As soon as that was done, a quick check was made to ensure that everyone was okay on the other end of the horses, and the gates were opened. It was amazing how they all charged out. The starting gate was quickly pulled into the grassy area in the middle and the fence piece put back up. As they came past us again, a beautiful sorrel with a red saddle blanket and a jockey in black and white checks was in the lead. But then a couple of other horses burst out trying to overtake the leader in the last 300 meters of the race. The sorrel won anyway.
In the MTC, we were told not to become full-time tourists, but that we should take advantage of where we were to see the sights. The horse race was definitely one of them, especially since we weren’t able to take in the Pioneer Days Rodeo this year! We found out that admission to the Turf Park was only $10.00 each. We decided where we were worked just fine and we didn’t have to put up with people smoking and drinking around us! It was great.
NATIONAL FAMILY HISTORY WEEK
July 30, 2010 Friday
Today was the start of Australian Nation Family History Week. Six weeks ago we started trying to get permission to set up an exhibit in the big shopping center in town. After jumping through all kinds of hoops to prove we were a non-profit organization and that we have liability insurance, we were turned down because we are sponsored by a religious organization. So we went to the public library to see if we could do something there. They were happy to have us there because it brings more people into the library.
We went to set up last night before we went to visit Ricardo and couldn’t believe how happy they were to help us get set up. They gave us a table and some display boards between the front door and the circulation desk, so pretty much everyone would have to pass by us. Kevin Wylde, who is married to a member and works there, made huge copies of the flyer we’d been handing out all week so we could put them along the front of the table. (The flyers and some other handouts had been sent to us by the Family History folks in Sydney. We added the hours and days we’d be in the library and have been canvassing town getting businesses to hang them up for us.) Then he found every book on family history in the library and brought them to a small table we’d been given in addition to the big one we were using. We loved the royal treatment after being rejected by the shopping centre. (That’s Australian spelling.)
So today we were there when the library opened and manned the display all day. We took turns having lunch. There were tons of people who came in the morning; then fewer came in the afternoon. People were really nice and lots stopped to talk to us. We felt like we were able to spark an interest in some and suggest a few things to others who were already involved in family history. Of course, there were lots of folks who said their auntie or their nana (grandma) had done it. We are doing this solely as a “service” to the community and are being very careful not to proselyte. Several people were aware of the huge collection of records the church has. Others were excited that it is free. One lady asked us what it meant when she saw “sealed” on some of the records she’d found in Family Search. We have a pamphlet that explains a little about temple ordinances and why we do temple work. We gave that to her but didn’t get into a discussion about it. We decided the next time something like that happens we will also give the person one of our “business cards” so he/she can contact us to get more information.
We are walking this fine line because twice this week we have met very unfriendly people who’ve accused us of being a cult and refused to discuss anything with us.
Today was the start of Australian Nation Family History Week. Six weeks ago we started trying to get permission to set up an exhibit in the big shopping center in town. After jumping through all kinds of hoops to prove we were a non-profit organization and that we have liability insurance, we were turned down because we are sponsored by a religious organization. So we went to the public library to see if we could do something there. They were happy to have us there because it brings more people into the library.
We went to set up last night before we went to visit Ricardo and couldn’t believe how happy they were to help us get set up. They gave us a table and some display boards between the front door and the circulation desk, so pretty much everyone would have to pass by us. Kevin Wylde, who is married to a member and works there, made huge copies of the flyer we’d been handing out all week so we could put them along the front of the table. (The flyers and some other handouts had been sent to us by the Family History folks in Sydney. We added the hours and days we’d be in the library and have been canvassing town getting businesses to hang them up for us.) Then he found every book on family history in the library and brought them to a small table we’d been given in addition to the big one we were using. We loved the royal treatment after being rejected by the shopping centre. (That’s Australian spelling.)
So today we were there when the library opened and manned the display all day. We took turns having lunch. There were tons of people who came in the morning; then fewer came in the afternoon. People were really nice and lots stopped to talk to us. We felt like we were able to spark an interest in some and suggest a few things to others who were already involved in family history. Of course, there were lots of folks who said their auntie or their nana (grandma) had done it. We are doing this solely as a “service” to the community and are being very careful not to proselyte. Several people were aware of the huge collection of records the church has. Others were excited that it is free. One lady asked us what it meant when she saw “sealed” on some of the records she’d found in Family Search. We have a pamphlet that explains a little about temple ordinances and why we do temple work. We gave that to her but didn’t get into a discussion about it. We decided the next time something like that happens we will also give the person one of our “business cards” so he/she can contact us to get more information.
We are walking this fine line because twice this week we have met very unfriendly people who’ve accused us of being a cult and refused to discuss anything with us.
:o(
July 29, 2010 Thursday
Tonight we had an appointment to teach Luisa and Ricardo. Her car wasn’t there, and he explained she’d had to go to work; He didn’t want us to teach him anything because he didn’t want to get ahead of her. So we asked him how things were going with the Book of Mormon, and he assured us he was reading and praying. He said he was sure that it is scripture and that Joseph Smith is a prophet. Then he started talking about his job. He’s the supervisor of a daycare. He was hired in Perth and is over 14 folks from Broome. They all resent that an outsider was brought in, and the fact that he’s Latin works against him also. They are polite to him but then stab him in the back when he turns around. He needs to keep this job. He and Luisa both came here as students on a 3 year visa. He did a 3 year program to get the child care certification. Then he could get a job here and work two more years before applying for Australian citizenship. But whoever hired him has to be his sponsor to extend his visa for the next 2 years. If he doesn’t keep his job, he can be deported. So the pressure to succeed is incredible. There are some more loopholes he explained that are too complicated to try to write. We could tell he just needed to talk to someone about all this. He and Luisa feel very alone here (although they have some friends staying for a week right now). We just listened, and our hearts broke for him. As he talked, he explained that Luisa had come in to Australia on his visa as his partner. Partner is a word we hate—they aren’t married. We asked him about that. He explained how much he loves her but he doesn’t feel he can ask her to marry him until he has a good job and a home so he can support her so she can stay home and raise their kids. He told us as soon as he felt like he could ask her to marry him, we would be invited to the wedding. We didn’t explain the strict Law of Chastity that is part of the lessons. The timing wasn’t good. We will next time. We think we can probably get them to understand that his reasons for not marrying are part of Satan’s deceptions. Hopefully that will be the case. He is the sweetest, most hard working, sincere guy we have run into since we’ve been here. Our hearts just ached for him. Orson even got a big “abrahso” (Portuguese for hug & back slapping with his head on Orson’s shoulder) before we left.
Tonight we had an appointment to teach Luisa and Ricardo. Her car wasn’t there, and he explained she’d had to go to work; He didn’t want us to teach him anything because he didn’t want to get ahead of her. So we asked him how things were going with the Book of Mormon, and he assured us he was reading and praying. He said he was sure that it is scripture and that Joseph Smith is a prophet. Then he started talking about his job. He’s the supervisor of a daycare. He was hired in Perth and is over 14 folks from Broome. They all resent that an outsider was brought in, and the fact that he’s Latin works against him also. They are polite to him but then stab him in the back when he turns around. He needs to keep this job. He and Luisa both came here as students on a 3 year visa. He did a 3 year program to get the child care certification. Then he could get a job here and work two more years before applying for Australian citizenship. But whoever hired him has to be his sponsor to extend his visa for the next 2 years. If he doesn’t keep his job, he can be deported. So the pressure to succeed is incredible. There are some more loopholes he explained that are too complicated to try to write. We could tell he just needed to talk to someone about all this. He and Luisa feel very alone here (although they have some friends staying for a week right now). We just listened, and our hearts broke for him. As he talked, he explained that Luisa had come in to Australia on his visa as his partner. Partner is a word we hate—they aren’t married. We asked him about that. He explained how much he loves her but he doesn’t feel he can ask her to marry him until he has a good job and a home so he can support her so she can stay home and raise their kids. He told us as soon as he felt like he could ask her to marry him, we would be invited to the wedding. We didn’t explain the strict Law of Chastity that is part of the lessons. The timing wasn’t good. We will next time. We think we can probably get them to understand that his reasons for not marrying are part of Satan’s deceptions. Hopefully that will be the case. He is the sweetest, most hard working, sincere guy we have run into since we’ve been here. Our hearts just ached for him. Orson even got a big “abrahso” (Portuguese for hug & back slapping with his head on Orson’s shoulder) before we left.
STAIRCASE TO THE MOON
July 28, 2010 Wednesday
While we were out on the bread run tonight, we stopped at Rollason’s house. Colleen mentioned she was making curry and asked if we liked it. Of course, we answered in the affirmative, and she invited us to dinner. We told her we had a lesson at 7 pm, so she said to swing by about 6:30 and she’d have a doggy-bag ready for us. We did, and it was sooooo good. She gave us enough for two meals.
Just before we went to pick up the curry, we got a text asking if we could postpone our lesson with the Limas to tomorrow night since they’d had company drop in. What could we say, but “Yes?”
One of the big things pushed for the tourists here is to see “The Staircase to the Moon.” Each month when the full moon rises over Roebuck Bay after dark, the reflection of the moon across the water makes it look like a staircase because of the waves moving across the bay. There’s a nice city park by the beach on Roebuck Bay, so vendors are allowed (for a fee, I’m sure) to set up their wares each day of the staircase. We hadn’t yet seen this, so we took the curry Colleen had dished up for us up to the park. It was full of people shopping and eating. We found a picnic table with just one couple from New South Wales eating there and joined them. We had a great visit with them while we all ate. They were pretty impressed that we had a friend who would make us dinner and send it away with us.
After we’d eaten, we got out the 2 camp chairs that we’d thrown in the trunk earlier and carried them over to a place where we’d have a good view of the bay. Sure enough, just like clockwork, the moon came up at 7:30 and created its staircase. There were a few clouds near the horizon, so it wasn’t a perfect sight, but it was good enough. It was a nice ending to a good day. People were still hanging around the market and park when we left.
While we were out on the bread run tonight, we stopped at Rollason’s house. Colleen mentioned she was making curry and asked if we liked it. Of course, we answered in the affirmative, and she invited us to dinner. We told her we had a lesson at 7 pm, so she said to swing by about 6:30 and she’d have a doggy-bag ready for us. We did, and it was sooooo good. She gave us enough for two meals.
Just before we went to pick up the curry, we got a text asking if we could postpone our lesson with the Limas to tomorrow night since they’d had company drop in. What could we say, but “Yes?”
One of the big things pushed for the tourists here is to see “The Staircase to the Moon.” Each month when the full moon rises over Roebuck Bay after dark, the reflection of the moon across the water makes it look like a staircase because of the waves moving across the bay. There’s a nice city park by the beach on Roebuck Bay, so vendors are allowed (for a fee, I’m sure) to set up their wares each day of the staircase. We hadn’t yet seen this, so we took the curry Colleen had dished up for us up to the park. It was full of people shopping and eating. We found a picnic table with just one couple from New South Wales eating there and joined them. We had a great visit with them while we all ate. They were pretty impressed that we had a friend who would make us dinner and send it away with us.
After we’d eaten, we got out the 2 camp chairs that we’d thrown in the trunk earlier and carried them over to a place where we’d have a good view of the bay. Sure enough, just like clockwork, the moon came up at 7:30 and created its staircase. There were a few clouds near the horizon, so it wasn’t a perfect sight, but it was good enough. It was a nice ending to a good day. People were still hanging around the market and park when we left.
THE SISTERS OF SAINT JOHN OF GOD
July 27, 2010 Tuesday
Today after our stint at the nursing home, we dropped by the old convent of the Sisters of St John of God. It has been turned into a museum that tells the story of a group of nuns who came to the area in the early 1900’s. They were assigned to build a mission at Beagle Bay which is north of here. Evidently there were already a few people there who helped them begin. But there are photos of these women alongside aborigines and two or three men cutting logs, making bricks, etc., all the heavy work necessary in order to build a place from where they could “go about doing good.” Because of its remoteness, it soon became the place where anyone living anywhere close to it turned for medical help. They soon had a “hospital” running up there. They established a school where any child could come for an education. Ranchers sent their children; aborigine kids attended. Eventually, their school became a place where aborigine women could be trained as teachers’ aides so they could help in the education of their own people. Because of these efforts, Notre Dame University (in Sydney) eventually opened a campus here in Broome so people up here could become teachers. Nursing has been added to the program also. The museum is full of pictures of these incredibly dedicated women and the work they did. During World War II, the nuns took the students into the bush because of fear of the Japanese. I can’t imagine the hardships they faced. There was also a small Leprosarium in the area run by the government. That was eventually turned over to the sisters to run. They planted their gardens to have food to eat. They were isolated from any contact during the wet seasons because the only road out of there was dirt which became impossible to drive. The mission was eventually closed in Beagle Bay in the late 1980’s. The sisters moved to Broome and became part of the Catholic group here which runs a school. They have their own small cemetery plot near the town cemetery where the sisters who dedicated their lives to northwest Australia are buried.
We have all heard of the many wonderful things that Sister Teresa did. After today, I’m much more aware of the many women like her who have dedicated their lives to serving others in remote areas of the world.
Today after our stint at the nursing home, we dropped by the old convent of the Sisters of St John of God. It has been turned into a museum that tells the story of a group of nuns who came to the area in the early 1900’s. They were assigned to build a mission at Beagle Bay which is north of here. Evidently there were already a few people there who helped them begin. But there are photos of these women alongside aborigines and two or three men cutting logs, making bricks, etc., all the heavy work necessary in order to build a place from where they could “go about doing good.” Because of its remoteness, it soon became the place where anyone living anywhere close to it turned for medical help. They soon had a “hospital” running up there. They established a school where any child could come for an education. Ranchers sent their children; aborigine kids attended. Eventually, their school became a place where aborigine women could be trained as teachers’ aides so they could help in the education of their own people. Because of these efforts, Notre Dame University (in Sydney) eventually opened a campus here in Broome so people up here could become teachers. Nursing has been added to the program also. The museum is full of pictures of these incredibly dedicated women and the work they did. During World War II, the nuns took the students into the bush because of fear of the Japanese. I can’t imagine the hardships they faced. There was also a small Leprosarium in the area run by the government. That was eventually turned over to the sisters to run. They planted their gardens to have food to eat. They were isolated from any contact during the wet seasons because the only road out of there was dirt which became impossible to drive. The mission was eventually closed in Beagle Bay in the late 1980’s. The sisters moved to Broome and became part of the Catholic group here which runs a school. They have their own small cemetery plot near the town cemetery where the sisters who dedicated their lives to northwest Australia are buried.
We have all heard of the many wonderful things that Sister Teresa did. After today, I’m much more aware of the many women like her who have dedicated their lives to serving others in remote areas of the world.
Crocodile Dundee?
July 24, 2010 Saturday
Today we drove to Derby to do some home and visiting teaching. One fellow we found whom we couldn’t find before was Tommy Davey. He’s about 50 years old, less active, and reminded me of Crocodile Dundee. He had the same build, narrow face, and kind of straggly blondish-brown hair. He did have tattoos down both arms but they were not ugly like a lot that you see these days. His dad is a patriarch down in Perth, but Tommy said he hasn’t gone to church since he was 14 or so. He was ordained a Deacon back then. He was nice to visit with and said we could come again.
The other visit we made was to Nikki Jensen whom we had visited before. She’s decided that in 2011 she is taking her daughter and they are moving to the states. She’s a nurse and has done the background work to know what it would take to work as a nurse over there. Evidently her father is an American. He was married, had 4 kids, then divorced his wife in the states. He ended up over here with the Navy and liked it. He married here and Nikki was born. So she can get her American citizenship very easily and her daughter can become a citizen after living there for a year. She wants to look up her family when she gets over there. Nikki has been to the temple but she says she has a few things she can’t quite get her grasp on like if she donates her money to another church and volunteers in needy projects she feels that she should be able to say she’s a full tithe payer. We talked about the fact that conversion is a process and the Lord is patient to a point. We also talked about obedience. It was an interesting visit. She’s the reason we are trying to get our church time moved to 11:00 am instead of 9:00 am. It’s a 2 hour drive from Derby to Broome, and that means getting up very early to make the 9 am church.
We saw one wallaby on the way home. He was pretty cute just sitting by the road watching everybody drive by.
Today we drove to Derby to do some home and visiting teaching. One fellow we found whom we couldn’t find before was Tommy Davey. He’s about 50 years old, less active, and reminded me of Crocodile Dundee. He had the same build, narrow face, and kind of straggly blondish-brown hair. He did have tattoos down both arms but they were not ugly like a lot that you see these days. His dad is a patriarch down in Perth, but Tommy said he hasn’t gone to church since he was 14 or so. He was ordained a Deacon back then. He was nice to visit with and said we could come again.
The other visit we made was to Nikki Jensen whom we had visited before. She’s decided that in 2011 she is taking her daughter and they are moving to the states. She’s a nurse and has done the background work to know what it would take to work as a nurse over there. Evidently her father is an American. He was married, had 4 kids, then divorced his wife in the states. He ended up over here with the Navy and liked it. He married here and Nikki was born. So she can get her American citizenship very easily and her daughter can become a citizen after living there for a year. She wants to look up her family when she gets over there. Nikki has been to the temple but she says she has a few things she can’t quite get her grasp on like if she donates her money to another church and volunteers in needy projects she feels that she should be able to say she’s a full tithe payer. We talked about the fact that conversion is a process and the Lord is patient to a point. We also talked about obedience. It was an interesting visit. She’s the reason we are trying to get our church time moved to 11:00 am instead of 9:00 am. It’s a 2 hour drive from Derby to Broome, and that means getting up very early to make the 9 am church.
We saw one wallaby on the way home. He was pretty cute just sitting by the road watching everybody drive by.
STAND AS A WITNESS
July 22, 2010 Thursday
Yesterday, Brother Aaron Davis, an aboriginal doctor who is a member of the church, called and said he’d talked to the manager, Jill Call, of the local drug and alcohol abuse center about us volunteering out there. She was willing to have us come out. So out we went (it’s about 5 miles out of town), It sounds interesting. It treats aboriginals who are alcoholics mostly; some use marijuana also. Often, their immediate family comes with them. They stay 3 months. Once they finish they go right back to their prior lifestyle and end up addicted again. But she says there’s nothing nicer than a sober aborigine. Their biggest problem is that while they are in rehab they get really bored. That’s where we come in. We plan to go out for a couple of hours on Friday afternoons to play games with them, take walks, or whatever they want us to do. Simon, one of our aboriginal members, works out there. The name of the place is Milliya Rumarra which means the same as Bran Nu Dae, just in a different language.
Tonight we had YW. Just the two Shires girls came, Carolyn who is 12 and Kerryanne who is 15. I think I’ve mentioned before that they had no idea that YW had a theme and commented that some of the words in it are hard. So today we tackled that concept of “Stand as a Witness.” I had gone through all the YW manuals to find a lesson I could use. There wasn’t one. So yesterday we went to the internet café and got into the church’s website. I searched for something there that I could use. No lesson. I finally happened onto a talk given by Sharon G. Larsen when she was in the YW General Presidency. It was a great talk on the subject, and I was able to turn it into a reasonable lesson. We made “No Bake Cookies” when the girls first got here and then did the lesson while the cookies set up in the fridge. They’d never made them before. The girls seemed to understand the lesson. I’m hoping that Kerryanne especially is grasping what we are teaching. She’s been inactive for about 4 years.
President Robinson came over as we were finishing up. He liked the cookies too and took the recipe home so his wife can make them.
Yesterday, Brother Aaron Davis, an aboriginal doctor who is a member of the church, called and said he’d talked to the manager, Jill Call, of the local drug and alcohol abuse center about us volunteering out there. She was willing to have us come out. So out we went (it’s about 5 miles out of town), It sounds interesting. It treats aboriginals who are alcoholics mostly; some use marijuana also. Often, their immediate family comes with them. They stay 3 months. Once they finish they go right back to their prior lifestyle and end up addicted again. But she says there’s nothing nicer than a sober aborigine. Their biggest problem is that while they are in rehab they get really bored. That’s where we come in. We plan to go out for a couple of hours on Friday afternoons to play games with them, take walks, or whatever they want us to do. Simon, one of our aboriginal members, works out there. The name of the place is Milliya Rumarra which means the same as Bran Nu Dae, just in a different language.
Tonight we had YW. Just the two Shires girls came, Carolyn who is 12 and Kerryanne who is 15. I think I’ve mentioned before that they had no idea that YW had a theme and commented that some of the words in it are hard. So today we tackled that concept of “Stand as a Witness.” I had gone through all the YW manuals to find a lesson I could use. There wasn’t one. So yesterday we went to the internet café and got into the church’s website. I searched for something there that I could use. No lesson. I finally happened onto a talk given by Sharon G. Larsen when she was in the YW General Presidency. It was a great talk on the subject, and I was able to turn it into a reasonable lesson. We made “No Bake Cookies” when the girls first got here and then did the lesson while the cookies set up in the fridge. They’d never made them before. The girls seemed to understand the lesson. I’m hoping that Kerryanne especially is grasping what we are teaching. She’s been inactive for about 4 years.
President Robinson came over as we were finishing up. He liked the cookies too and took the recipe home so his wife can make them.
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