Happy Birthday Dear Taylor

Cutting young coconuts and getting the water and meat. MMMMM good!

Dear Taylor, here we are in a far-flung place, missing you, missing your family, musing on you and your birth, wondering if we can come up with a post to equal that of your wife (which was not only our most widely read post, thanks to Anne’s link form her blog to ours, but also I think our most powerful post because it linked her and her history with the culmination of our mission work up to that time), and it occurred to us how grateful we are that you and Tanner made the effort and sacrifice to come see us here, to make our experience here more real, more tangible. And so, for your birthday we will document the visit of you and your brother, remind you of some of the highlights and some of the lessons learned and the people you both connected with.

 

Wilbur, is that You??

First of all a caveat to those who are not the birthday boy:  It looks like we might just hang out all the time, since this blog is a ton about beaches, and waterfalls, and since the blog post a couple weeks ago had a beach p-day/b-day included, but remember, we have saved these pictures from way back last April, just after Tanner’s birthday actually. SO, though this blog is to Taylor, it records events long past, and it is a shout out to Tanner too, since they were here together.  Oh we loved having them here.

 

Sige (rhymes with figgy--it is likely the most used word in the Visayan Islands—it means “go ahead”, “ya I gotcha”, “all right then”, “continue” or a host of other affirmations. Often it is said really fast twice or thrice, like affirming what’s been said, as in “ya, ya, ya, got it”) Taylor, lets reminisce about the grand old time we had while you two were here. You and Tanner had that business trip to China, so decided a hop down here to our island was in order. You guys didn’t seem phased by the trip, though it is no small hop—even if you are just talking about the last few legs from China to here, but  . . .

Two generations of Nunezes and two of Croppers

You arrived!  We had no idea what you would want to do, but were very gratified when you were happy to spend most of the time here visiting and connecting with the people we have taught, worked with, and loved.  We wanted to enrich their lives, by having them meet you, and we wanted you to be lifted by knowing them, so that’s mostly what we did, fitting tons into every day, seeing people and places and doing things that we have loved and others we had never experienced.

Looking for seashells

 

We will let the pictures and the captions speak for themselves, but remember how great it felt to meet with the people we had been telling stories of—a branch president who has grown into a faithful and spiritual leader, a family preparing for the temple, a family strengthened by their return to participating together in the gospel, a cheerful man who regained the path to becoming worthy of advancing in the priesthood to the office of Elder, and several others.

Lost in the crab field.  Crabs love chicken legs!

 

Teacher's quorum president with his catch of fish!

Look closely, there are about 25 fish.

Sister R with newborn and the boys

Maybe the most profound object lesson Dad has learned while here was one you and Tanner experienced with him.  He told the story at Grandma Cropper’s funeral, but I will retell it here for the record.  Remember when you went out to the home of Brother and Sister R?  They are squatters on a spit of land between a tidal lagoon and the ocean.  Granted, the surf is not high here, but the tides vary greatly, hence their home is on stilts. As we walked up to their house, one of the sons walked in from fishing with their unique fishing contraption with a bucket, and Dad asked him what he had caught.  Then you all looked in the bucket and there was nothing visible except water, Dad said, oh, too bad, you got skunked.  But the son answered yes,, I caught fish.  He said there are about a hundred fish in the bucket.  You all looked at one another questioning his response, wondering if he had understood the question.  Dad looked again and there was nothing and stated the obvious, “but there is nothing in the bucket but water.”  That is when the lesson came.  The young man explained that he had been fishing for the tiny hatchlings that can only be seen by looking very closely with a trained eye.  “You have to look for the tiny black dots. Those are the eyes.”  Once he had explained and you understood what to look for, all of a sudden you could see that there were indeed dozens of sets of tiny eyes squiggling around.  They had always been there, but you had not seen them until you were taught to look with different perspective, and you were willing to look again.

Brother R catches these tiny baby fish, takes them to a man who has a tidal fish pond.  He sells them to the guy who will then raise them and sell them again when they are grown, about 12" long.  Brother R taught a great lesson that day, and Dad connected it to our missionary work.  We teach people every day, including brother R’s parents and siblings, about things they could not at first see.  But, if they are willing to be taught what to look for, if they are willing to look again, the gospel appears before their spiritual eyes—very real and quite evident.

Dinner by the pool at the end of the day.  MA is in Utah with Sara and Isabelle

 

We are so grateful that you and Tanner chose to come see us.  I know it’s a stretch, but for us, your visit made our work here more real.  We’ve been out fishing, day after day, and by your coming to look in our bucket for real, it made our work matter all the more. 

Thank you for your work at home that contributes to our ability to be here.  Thank you for coming to visit and share with us this amazing place and our amazing experience. Thank you for loving your wife and teaching your children and staying connected with your siblings and magnifying your calling and on and on.  Your life is a reflection of the blessings of the Gospel Jesus Christ when we choose to live it fully.

The Amlan branch president and his wife with us

Which one is Tarzan??

About an hour away from our house

This is really cool!!

On the way for a little fishing.  The teachers quorum president out fished us this day.

What if we sauteed this in butter with a little salt?

This is a jungle

Can I swing over the river???

Members and friends in the neighborhood

At the Taoist temple in Cebu City

Taoist temple having fun

Rain and shine and weaving

Banana Leaves Make Amazing Umberellas

 Just when we thought it was safe to go outdoors—as in we haven’t had a natural disaster in, what? weeks?—we had two days back to back of being out for way too long in way too severe of weather.  One day it was rain and mud, the next brutal sunshine and humidity.

Yet, as always, we got to know why.

Remember we told you of a man who found a tattered Book of Mormon on a river bank, read it, prayed about it, had revelatory dreams regarding it (ya, sounds like a church video, I know) and finally sleuthed out what church it belonged to and asked if he could join?  Well, if you remember in that story, when we met him to invite him to speak in district conference, we started talking to him outside on a bench, then moved, due to rain, onto his front porch, then had to move, due to leaks, to his inside sala (front room, but picture no furniture, just a bamboo floor), then had to move again, due to torrential leaks, to his bedroom (picture no furniture, but a hook with clothes and a rolled up mat). Here we stayed and recorded his story.  The ubiquitous leaks continued to try us, but they were fewer. The sound was deafening, but we huddled down and listened to his story.

126 stairs then 1,463 steps up into the wilderness--we counted

Well, his wife was about to be baptized this week, and on Friday the missionaries in his congregation organized a service project to help repair his roof.  So, the zone missionaries, 12 of us, drove in our truck (6 in the cab and 6 in the truck bed with canopy) to their town, up a mountain, then we got out and climbed up a mountainous staircase, then hiked higher into the mountain to where we gathered coconut fronds, cut them down the spines and wove them into a thatch.  It is not as solid as nipa leaves and the weave they do with the nipa, but apparently it will suffice.

Roof Weaving 101

You don't learn this in school

It was actually great fun learning to weave the fronds.  The trouble was the rain.  It was raining when we gathered at the church.  It was raining harder while we drove up the mountain.  It was pouring (now really think of that word—imagine a pitcher, pouring water out) by the time we got to the shelter in which we would weave the fronds, we were soaked to our skin.  But, dauntless we acquired the new skill we’d come to learn, and got even more muddy than when we arrived.  I must say, the sister who taught the technique magically produced a product that was certainly more water resistant than some of our attempts, but even ours would be a blessing to our Filipino version of Lorenzo Vincente.

A spoon made out of Coconut husk for eating the meat.

Climbing the tree for fresh coconuts. 

We cracked open a few young coconuts that a guy threw down to us from about 80 feet up.  Elder Cropper was especially glad he had carried his bolo knife all the way, ‘cause now he had a use for it. You can make a little spoon by shaping a piece of the husk. We drank coconut water, scooped out the soft flesh, loaded up our woven roofing and headed back down the mountain.  Can you picture 12 muddy, soaked, sweaty missionaries in a truck? With thatched fronds on the roof?  See below.

many hands make light work

It was now too dark and too late to deliver the goods up to Bro. O’s house (another climbing feat), but we were happy to know they would get delivered by members, and soon brother O and his family would have more than just a corner of their house dry in the coming wet months. Brother O baptized his wife on Saturday.  On Sunday, he used his Melchizedek to confer upon her the gift of the Holy Ghost.  They had a much drier house to go home to after.

It works just like a shingle

Kanding (goat) one day old

We are so happy to have a truck!

 Next day, Saturday,  sun.  The R.S. Pres in our branch organized a 1-day-mission where all the sisters met at the church, divided up the people who needed visits and off we went to find folks.  Elder Cropper and the zone leaders did the same, but in the air conditioned truck.  I went with a young sister in the morning, we all met for lunch, then I went with 3 other sisters in the afternoon.  Let me tell you about hot.  The clouds were gone.  The sun was merciless.  We walked for big chunks of the day, and when we were not walking, we were confined in tight spaces with precious little air flow, or were riding in pedi-cabs designed for Filipinos—ya, even tighter spaces.  Elder Cropper had driven off with my umbrella, so I got my first really bad sunburn of my mission.  Plus, after the rains of the day before, the ground was literally steaming for much of the day—the humidity was droopifying.  It just soaks the energy out of you along with the sweat.  I am not usually as affected by the heat as my companion, but this day was way beyond uncomfortable. I was begging for mercy—knowing we still had 3 serious appointments that evening.

We all met back at the church, and reported on our visits.  Everyone was positive about the people they had found and the invitations they had extended, but you know how that goes . . . People mean well.

Then came the miracles.  Again.  The people really did come.  The sister who always has a million excuses—and very real they are— could not any longer use them, after hearing testimony from her R.S.  Pres. of her own trials in bringing her family of 6 to church by herself, while her husband drank himself into a stupor and now she has 4 returned missionary sons and her husband in the branch presidency. And the sister who left the church in her 20’s after getting pregnant, then married, then separated, and now living with another man, was given a blessing in the afternoon after sisters found her ill in the morning, and she showed up at church today with her live-in boyfriend and the son he is helping her raise.  She had been ashamed to come before, because of her circumstances, but she was loved, then healed, and now she remembers what it feels like to belong to the flock.

Elder Cropper was in the comfort of the truck, but he did have rough roads to drive and long distances at that, and he and the missionaries also had their miracles—a baptism set, a blessing for the sick sister, a lesson taught to a new mother.

Happily engaged in the Lord's Work!

So, rain and sun aside, the miracles continue. By Sunday night it was pouring rain hard again.  We happily pictured the O family under their new thatch.

The Big Guy Turns 60, 4th of July greetings, Dist. Pres dinner

P-day/B-day at the beach--glad senior couples are allowed to swim

 Happy 4^th of JULY!!!

It is not even on the radar here.  But we remember, and wish you all well as you celebrate.  The United States of America, is a miraculous land, and we are grateful to be associated with it.  We love it here, where we are being well cared for and where we see new beauties every day, but we still miss home. We will picture our family and friends in the U.S. barbequing, parade attending, and/or fireworks watching, and we will say a prayer of gratitude for each of you, and for the country you celebrate. Don’t start anything on fire!!!

He has still got a little wind in him to blow out the candles with some help

Speaking of loving it here: Last week was Elder Cropper’s 60^th birthday!!  We went on a little b-day/p-day/ get-away. We left Amlan Tuesday, traveled to the south end of the island conducting a couple of missionary apartment checks, attending a companionship study, and taking another companionship to lunch along the way.  We then drove to a resort Dean had checked out and spent Tuesday night there, all of Wednesday and left early Thursday morning to take care of more missionary stuff that day in Dumaguete.  It was short but sweet and even productive (yes, one companionship is on our outer darkness list of missionary slovenliness—soon to be repented of) and felt like a great way to celebrate the old guy turning 60 (the official age of a senior citizen here in the Philippines—he now gets the premiere perks, like our own grocery line). We got lots of birthday wishes from home and from here, and even got to celebrate with a family in the branch Thursday night.  Their daughter’s birthday was a day after Elder Cropper’s so we had them over for FHE, dinner and birthday cake.

Well the rain is officially back!  Rainy season normally begins around June 1 but apparently it was a month late and now it seems as though Mother Nature wanted to make up for being late by bringing the rain in like a lion.  It rained so hard yesterday afternoon, all night, and today it’s just moderate to heavy, but never letting up.  Don’t worry, we have our mud boots.  It’s time to relearn the Visayan word for mud, “Lapok”.

5 district presidents, (it is an optical illusion, we are not that big)

For the last three months we have been working to reactivate a man who was called as the first district president of the Tanjay district in 1990.  He and his wife both became less-active upon his release.  We would meet with them about once a week and we felt like that was starting to push our welcome, but as time went on it got to be a bit more comfortable as we got to know each other better.  Our visits became less awkward and the spirit always made it into each discussion.  As we talked about the gospel they both began to remember the spirit that had once converted them.  They would follow through on their reading assignments, although coming to church was the biggest commitment.  They had friends and acquaintances who were still attending church and by coming they knew that once in church they would be back.  We have told you some of this story before. He was one of the miracles of District conference. Last, last week (that is a Filipino construct.  They say “last last week” and mean “week before last”, or they say “next next week” and mean “week after next”.  I kinda like it) they attended church together and were so warmly received by old friends who hugged and gave back pats etc. 

The first Tanjay district president and wife

For the last month we have been planning on having a dinner at our house for all the past and current district presidents and their wives.  It happened last last night.  We had gotten commitments from all and a confirmation from all again.  Out of the seven presidents we had five show up.  One, at the last minute had to out of town, and the other had a sick wife.  The brother who had been the first president was here with his wife and really that was the main reason we were having it.  He is really a smart and sharp guy with a rich and deep spirit.  The church needs him back.  He and his wife came and they had a great time, told a lot of stories, gave a lot of history, and we felt the spirit.  And, oh by the way, ate a lot of food.  (It is interesting to type with ants on your key board). One of our goals in having the dinner was to help the men and their wives remember their past service as a means of recommitting them to moving ahead. We asked them to bring photos and then we had them each fill out a questionnaire to spark and capture memories.  The current President was there, and each man took a turn offering him advice, which he really appreciated. The food was great, and the setting amazing out on the patio of the resort.

There is a word in Visayan that I focused on teaching at a Relief Society conference Saturday.  The word is “hinumdumi”.  That means, the command form of remember.  To remember is a commandment and a gospel principle.  In the book of Moses in the P of GP, we are told that the first scripture that was created by inspired writings and revelations by Adam and his posterity was called the Book of Remembrance. Helaman told his sons Nephi and Lehi to “remember, remember, my sons”.  Alma the younger was struggling in the torment of repentance, until his mind caught hold (he remembered) the teachings of his father regarding Jesus Christ and the Savior’s ability to remove both spiritual pain and physical pain.  Moses taught the Israelites that the law needed to be taught to their children so they could remember it.  Moroni taught us to “remember how merciful the Lord has been from the creation of Adam down until the time that you should receive these things”.  The principle of remembering is part of the principle of being grateful or “nagpasalamat-on”.  Well that is what we are working to do when trying to reactivate those who were once enlightened by the spirit: help them to remember –remember.  It is such an interesting phenomena to see these wonderful people as they start to verbalize their memories.  As they do, you can see a light come on that shows on their face.  It can’t be hidden; this light just shows like two headlights shining in the dark.

Well this good brother and his wife have been going through this remembering process and their lives are changing.  A glow behind their smile, their eyes are brighter, they are happier.  This couple is not the first ones we have seen go through this process. And the record of the district is beginning to come forth—we will compile the notes from that evening and begin the Tanjay Book of Remembrance. 

The word for the week is – hinumdomi.  I think that can become part of our thoughts and prayers that we do more remembering, and ask Heavenly Father to help us with our memories, so we can feel gratitude to Him.

P.S. sometimes people debate about who wrote which post.  I, Sister Cropper, write most.  This one, he wrote parts, I wrote others.  He always does the pictures. FYI

Pagentry

Crystal and her auntie

Every municipal (small city) and barangay (town within a small city) holds its own fiesta during the year.  Usually connected with a patron saint, it has roots in Catholic tradition and even deeper roots in pagan forms of worship.  Some commemorate an even older tribal history, like the ati-atihan, when the aboriginal leaders welcomed the first strangers from abroad—visitors from Borneo. Most celebrations include drumming in parades and worshipping of an icon of a saint at church, and ALL involve feeding everyone as much as possible in every home.  Filipinos often spend much of the year planning for, preparing for and paying off from last year’s fiesta.  Because they are usually connected to a saint, and those saints all have different days, there are celebrations going on in different neighbor hoods much of the time.  As we drive from one end of our area to another, we often pass by at least one such event on any given day.

We have been invited to participate in a few of these, the main event of which, like I said is eating—so we are well suited and trained for participation.  You go with your host to say their auntie’s house and eat a ton—only the best, which always means lechon baboy and diniguan (spit roasted pig and blood pudding). Then you go to a different relative’s house and do the same.  The menu varies but little—the items mentioned above, plus some buko halo halo salad (mixed canned fruit, coconut meat scraped from young coconuts, canned condensed milk and boxed cream) pancit (like ramen noodles with tiny bits of cabbage and meat) of course rice, and various rice toppings, the most common of which is pork or chicken adobo—the Filipino stew cooked with vinegar.

 

Crystal, her mom, Joy, and brother Joshua

So last night we attended one of these events that we knew of but had not yet seen.  Each fiesta usually has a pageant held with it—sometimes for men, sometimes for teens, sometimes for children.  It is usually sponsored by the barangay government or a wealthy patron from the town. A member of our branch invited us to come to the pageant for Crossing Silab fiesta because her younger sister was competing for miss teen Crossing Silab. A “crossing” is smaller than a barangay.  It is what it sounds like a small road that crosses the highway—but some of them become a hub for congregating and of course another reason for a fiesta each year.

Well she told us to arrive at 6:30 for the beginning of the show at 7:00.  We decided to go with Filipino time, so we aimed at 7, but she was frantically texting us to come by 6:30.  We arrived at the venue—an open field next to the sea.  It was strewn with lights of the caliber of a rock concert!!  There were huge scaffolds holding spots and disco lighting and monstrously huge speakers.  The stage too was immense, though rather makeshift. We met the patron of this event who in Indonesian and lives in Manila but comes to Visayas for weekends—rather rich I gather.

another candidate

and another

and another

Joy, her mom, her sister, her daughter and the make up guy

Well these pageants are something else—no matter whether the contestants are 6 years old kids or grown women or men, the hoopla is astonishing—though this was our first, we have heard of and seen pictures of others. In fact, two returned missionaries in our branch, brothers, just took the titles of Mr. San Jose and 1^st runner up.  American events have nothing on this crowd.  Trainers and makeup artists are hired, elaborate costumes are rented, dance routines are practiced, talents displayed, etc. Some of the pageant candidates have to raise money for charity, a la Mr. Grizzly in Ashland, some are rewarded money for scholarship; it just depends on the town. ALL, without exception, of the people back stage at the events are gay men. Some are flamboyant in makeup and dresses, others understated, with just a simple t-shirt over their bra.  All mince. They are referred to as a group.  “We have to ask the gays . . .” or, “tell the gays about the lighting problem.” They are the movers and shakers of the pageant—a vital part of any self-respecting event. This part I know because several of these men have shown up to do make-up and hair and training at any church event that requires any pageantry. A couple of them are church members, so they volunteer and spice up say New Beginnings, or the Christmas Activity with a flair for drama and style.

As we sat and waited for the show to begin, the music got louder, the beat more visceral, the lyrics more vile and then came the music videos shown on a screen the size of Luzon. We averted our eyes while all around us, including the children, laughed. We were plotting how to leave, when our friend, Sister Joy, who had brought us, saw our discomfort, voiced that she too though it was ugly, then without a word of encouragement from us, this young mother marched to the DJ, told him she had kids there and what he was showing was not funny but ugly, and he turned it off!! This was Crystal’s mom.  We were so proud of her.

yet another

We did still leave, but we were so glad that Sister Joy had the courage to take a stand against base, demeaning yuckiness.  We heard later that her sister received a barangay council award. Yeah! Our presence there was positive, because we got to meet the mom who has forbidden her young daughter from being taught, though she wants to be baptized. Maybe our support at the event will soften the mom's heart toward these crazy Mormons. (I hope you see the irony intended in that ).

Oh update.  We just spoke to the Elders. They said that at church today (we were in another branch) they were told the ban on teaching her daughter is lifted cause the mom liked us!! Yeah! And we are invited to her birthday. This beautiful award winner is turning14 only!  How quickly things can change.