Brothers

So what is Allyssa dying to eat/drink when she gets back home?

Orange juice

Chicken broccoli soup

         CHOCOLATE CAKE

         Good cereal and milk

         See’s Candy

        Air. There are so many fumes from the cars and a million buses that make this place really hard to breathe in. And there are piles of garbage on the side of the road that sends its sent 50 feet away. So yeah, I really want to breathe.

         Tap water. My stomach doesn't agree with the tap water here, so I’m drinking out of a water bottle most of the time.

And last but not least….

         VEGGIES!!! I want to sit down with a bag of carrots (the carrots I’ve had in my meals from restaurants here are rock hard), and celery, and green beans, and (dare I say it?) corn, and peas, and broccoli (hence the chicken broccoli soup). I want veggies so bad.

Oh gosh, this post wasn’t going to be about food. Sorry about that. This post was going to be about brothers.

This past Thursday we were working with FENC and visited a squatter village again to tutor children. The children were still just as heart-melting and happy as before. They’ve got fun personalities.  I read with Ben and Lidiana for a little bit. I used to think that donated books and donated clothing probably wouldn’t be used, but they are. The kids don’t have enough—to the point where they have some of the picture books memorized. After we read books, the kids colored pictures of cats…all the colors of the rainbow (name that song)!

As I was watching Ben and Lidiana color, I saw another little boy with a little girl who looked too young to be in school. She was his little sister. I’m not sure what her name was, but I think his name was a Fiji version of Issaquah. His little sister was shy and didn’t talk at all. She just stared. Issaquah, who was also very small, kept a good eye on her. They were glued together. He led her by the hand and when she was distracted and staring at the big white people, he made sure she wasn’t left behind. When they were waiting in line, his hands were on her shoulders and when the children were all sitting on the ground with their eyes on the teacher, she was on his lap. When I saw them separate I saw concern on their faces.

I got really distracted watching this tender bond. I was thinking of Jackson and all the times he protected me—when we were new kids in Heber and trying to make friends, when teachers yelled at me, or when boys flirted with me. I felt what that little girl was feeling. I can’t put it to words, but I know it. As I watched Issaquah and his little sister, I missed Jackson so much, but even more than I missed him, I was grateful for him and so so proud of him. Then I thought about Trevor and how much I miss and am grateful for him. He’s married, he has a beautiful daughter, and he’s in Oklahoma following his dreams. Then I thought about Josh. Don't get me started on how splendid/brilliant Josh is. He's my best friend. 

And now I’m thinking about Jesus Christ, and how much I love Him. Issaquah was holding his sister’s hand, guiding her, and protecting her. This is the kind of bond that we have with Jesus Christ, who is our older brother. He takes us by the hand, he guides us when we’re lost, and he doesn’t lose sight of us.

I wanted to take a picture of Issaquah and his sister, but they were so shy and I didn’t want to scare them. I kept my eye on them until they left the little schoolhouse together and went home eating cookies. And I wondered if that little girl knew how lucky she is to have an older brother.

Let's not blow things into Fijian meal size proportions.

So here's the thing. This:
This. This is Kelli, say hi! But also this is some food we ordered today. We didn't order the whole restaurant, we didn't even order a large, this is just how big they wanted our meals to be. I keep kicking myself every time I order, because I always forget to order takeout (takeout orders are smaller, sometimes you can almost finish them in one meal).
Don't worry Moms, boyfriends (haha...boyfriends), skinny jeans, and swimsuits, we aren't going to gain weight here. Why? A. We walk miles every day and B. I keep finding bones in my chicken, which puts horrible thoughts in my mind. For example, "This piece of chicken has a weird shape and a different texture. What if I'm eating a chicken skull or something?" And then I want to cry, or just spit it out. Sometimes I choose to do the latter.
This meal wasn't finished. I got a to-go box (what I had left wouldn't fit in the to-go box), because I don't want to be that American who wastes more than half her meal.
But guess what? Guess what? Our dinners are saved! By a flying wild man in a loin cloth. Okay, I haven't met a flying wild man in a loin cloth (not yet at least), I just want to watch Tarzan. No, our dinners were saved by the arrival of Tiko, our Fijian cook. So far, she's cooked shepherd's pie, chicken pot pie, and tonight she's cooking veggie stir-fry.
I was trying to think of a clever way to end this post, but heck I'm not a blog writer, it's hot, and memories of the chicken I ate today are coming back. Plus there is a creepy-looking dead bug on my floor that's making me want to stay on the corner of my bed while fiercely hugging my pillow and my laptop. Um...remember when Mr. Rochester calls for Jane, and she hears him even though she's so far away? I'm going to make like Mr. Rochester and MOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So today is Sunday (Saturday for you because I am a day ahead of you. I win!) and I absolutely with all of my heart loved it. These people just ooze love for the Gospel. Partaking of the Sacrament was just wonderful and brought me so much peace, which was much needed after saying goodbye to my family to go to a foreign land with people and customs I’m not familiar with. I can't wait to go again next week. 
And then Relief Society happened. At the beginning, a woman got up to lead the opening hymn, but she was looking at another woman for guidance. She had no idea what she was doing, but she was loving it. We sang “Joseph Smith’s First Prayer”, and she said, “Okay sisters, at the top it says to sing “with dignity”, so you need to sing it with you know umph!” She had us sing very loudly, and at the high notes she would sing very loudly: “It’s up there! Hit those high notes!” The very last phrase she told us to sing very quietly. After we sang, she said joyfully, “This my first time leading. In my whole life!” She laughed and sat down. A little later she was talking about how she “got married, had eleven children, yada yada yada” I’m not making up the yadas. After she had eleven children, she went back to school to become a midwife. Having a baby with her as your midwife would be the most hilarious delivery ever. Imagine a really big, loud, and hilarious Polynesian woman with you as you deliver your child. BAHAHA. 
I noticed that a lot of the woman brought their lesson manuals with them to Relief Society. I could tell they had studied them throughout the week because they were bookmarked and highlighted. Throughout the lesson, they were following closely with their manuals. When I get home I’m going to try to do that more. 
I realize these posts have been random and a bit long, but this weekend has been kind of slow and I've had a lot of free time. Starting this week we will be meeting with a lot of different organizations to figure out different projects we want to head. If all goes well, I'm going to speak with different schools about teaching music. I want to work with a school called Hilton. It's a school for special needs children. With this school, I would (hopefully) teach music, P.E., and choreograph a dance that they do at a festival thing. 
So that's an update. Points to those who actually read it, points to those who take time to skim it, and points to those who read one post and skim the next. 
 

This is a post covering about 3 days, 2 of those not having internet. So skim, or read only if you are actually sincerely interested.
I got on a smaller plane to Suva, Fiji. That plane landed, I grabbed my luggage (with my buddies, I’m a super safe person) and then saw my country director. He took us to a cute (sarcasm) truck that we were going to ride in the back of--Indiana Jones style except without the bad guys.

After lunch, we walked to FENC to travel to a village to tutor children. The people at FENC are super nice, and I was so grateful to speak to Fijians that knew who we were and why we were there. We traveled to the “squatter” village, which is a super poor village where the families live in small huts constructed with metal. When we would walk in muddy areas, it smelled like the mud wasn’t made from just water and dirt. The children were obviously wearing donated clothing, that sometimes didn’t even fit (there were a couple with shorts falling off). And someone had a pig rocking out in front of their hut. It was just chilling there chewing something.
We went into their little preschool, took off our shoes (a Fijian custom), and waited for the children. We learned about “Fijian time” which means if someone is told to be somewhere at 4:00, they will be there at 5:00. Eventually, many children came and we read with/to them. Two little boys kept gently grabbing strands of my hair and smiling. I asked them if they liked my hair and they said yes. I loved meeting these kids, and they enjoy saying "Bula!" (Hello) to us white folk.
The next day, groups of three were sent on a scavenger hunt in the city. First we bought papaya at the market, exchanged currency (I’m super impressed with myself) and ate lunch. We found large fish, touched the ocean, and I attempted to juggle papaya (the picture looks legitimate). We also got on the bus (all by our little selves), even the right bus, and got off at the correct stop. On this bus, it looked like there weren’t any seats left, so I was just standing. I heard someone making kissing noises behind me and I thought, “Oh my gosh, how rude, a guy behind me is making kissing noises at me because I’m a white girl and he wants to make me uncomfortable.” I ignored him. Then I remembered something HELP had taught me before I came to Fiji, which was that Fijians make kissing noises to get your attention. Sort of like “Psst” or “Hey, over here!” I turned around and realized that they had made room for me on a seat. Haha…oops. 

Then I ate sticky fried rice. It tasted like I cooked it…except I didn’t.

On Saturday it was raining like there was no tomorrow. And it’s not the warm rain that I’ve experienced for the past couple of days, it was cold. COLD. And for some reason, my group decided that this would be a good day to try and go to the beach to go snorkeling. This is something I should have thought through a little more. As always, I’m too cool for umbrellas. Ya dumb. This bus ride was a couple hours and even came with entertainment—a TV special of some Scottish guy paying tribute to Jim Reeves (I actually recognized a couple of the songs), and another TV special of a super happy guy imitating (paying tribute I guess) to Buddy Holly…but also singing Elvis Presley songs. Those are my jams. 

We arrived at a road that led to the resort. I decided at this point that if I were to liken myself to a Disney princess now, I would be Ariel, because I’m wet ALL THE TIME. All I can say about this day I guess is that I was soaked for 7 hours...and only 5 minutes of those 7 hours were spent in the ocean. We’ve all agreed that the next time we have to choose between going snorkeling on a rainy day or watching Bollywood movies, we’re watching Bollywood. All the way.

 

Saying that Australians are Friendly is an Understatement

Tuesday, the 13^th of May, I flew LA with my Dad at 11:30 a.m. Before my flight to Fiji, we wanted to spend a day in LA together. We rented a cool car that actually turned out to be a bit uncomfortable, we went to the LA Temple visitor’s center and then did baptisms (which was probably one of the best/most spiritual that I’ve ever done in my life), we went to dinner and ate Mexican food (love me some good Mexican food), we hung out at Downtown Disney (it was oh so painful being so close to Disneyland…yet so far [I make Disney pun]), then we went to “The Citadel” shopping outlets and hung out there for a bit. It was a very lovely day. And then I had to say goodbye. Saying goodbye to Dad was so dang hard, I was so grateful that he’d traveled with me to LA, and then went through the trouble of parking and walking into the airport to help me get checked in. When I was waiting in line for security, I turned around constantly to see if my Dad was still there watching me, and he was. That was so comforting. I can’t imagine how hard it was for my Mom and Dad to say goodbye to me and send their petite child to Fiji. No big deal.

I got on the airplane and sat down, and then a handsome Australian man sat down next to me. I was thinking, “Woah, I’m never this lucky.” Haha…lucky. It was an interesting sort of lucky. This guy, named Daniel, started talking to me a lot. He talked about his 3 week trip in America that he loved so much, and he loved Americans, except he thought people in New York were a little rude, and then he talked about how Australians are really friendly. He went to Disneyland and loved it. He asked me at one point if I smoked, and I said no, and he said he doesn't smoke either. Good for him! He then mentioned that his parents were Dutch. I took this opportunity to say, “Oh, I have a brother serving a mission in the West Indies, and he’s speaking Dutch and French!” He asked if it was a volunteer trip type of thing, and then I told him it was for my church, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. A Christian church? Yes. He then encouraged me to watch a documentary about animals (he had watched it on the way here and said it was really good), so I watched it. 

Halfway into the movie, Daniel got tired and laid his head on his tray with his pillow. I guess the space was too small or something, because a little later, he decided we were good enough friends for him to put his head practically on my lap. Or maybe he didn’t know this was happening because he was way sleepy…or maybe he didn’t know this was happening because he had a glass of some sort of alcohol…maybe a couple of glasses. I was uncomfortable, but I didn’t know what to do without being rude, “Excuse me, sir, will you please not be so close? This is awkward.” I didn’t say that. I moved a little at one point, he woke up and apologized , then DID IT AGAIN, except this time he was completely, no question on my lap. No joke. A flight attendant came by and asked if Daniel was cold and needed another blanket, and I said that I thought he was fine, the flight attendant then asked if he was my husband, and I said, “No, he’s just a stranger.” BAHAHA. I think it confused the flight attendant. Eventually, Daniel woke up again and got off my lap, I took that opportunity to return Daniel’s pillow to him, then get something out of my bag, pull my blanket over me, and then try to go to sleep. This worked-ish. He still put his head on the edge of his tray, pretty close to my lap. Australians are REALLY really rEALly friendly. 

The next morning, I woke up (like I did 50 times during the night) and started reading my Book of Mormon, so that when he woke up, he would see me reading the Book of Mormon and ask about it. But he didn’t. After I read my Book of Mormon to my heart’s content, I decided to write a note with information about the LDS church, the website, the Book of Mormon, and then I bore a quick testimony, and signed it, “Your friend on the airplane, Allyssa”. As we left the plane, I needed to claim luggage, he didn’t, so I gave him the note. He said, “You wrote me a note?” I told him it was information about my church and such. He was probably thinking, “I don't remember asking you for information about your church.” He said thank you and that he would read it later.

Anyway, moral of the story is, even if he thinks I’m a little crazy, maybe one day, he’ll meet missionaries or something and then he’ll be able to say, “I met a crazy girl, who is a member of your church, on an airplane.”

I'm trying to figure out pictures. I can't upload those as often because they take up too much information or something, and the internet here is weird.

P.S. The weather here is cooking me alive. I am literally only using a sheet as a blanket.
P.P.S. These posts are written fairly quickly to let my friends and family know what's going on, so I know it might lack in writing quality, but whatevs.
P.P.P.S. It's really relaxing to wake up here in the morning. Birds are chirping, our handy-dandy electric fan is blowing in my face, I go out into the living room and start writing this blog post, and then construction starts :JAB:LFSDN>FK SDPFJSLKEFNSDF. If I wanted, I could run out of my living room and jump off the balcony (with epic music in the background, of course) and land on the construction vehicles.