Red Alert on La Reunion

Bonne Annee Nos Amis en Amerique!  (Happy New Year Our Friends in America)

Greetings of love for the new year to all those at home.  We understand the weather is frigid there...sorry, but here it is a balmy 85 (don't be too envious; it is also VERY humid).  We celebrated a totally different New Year here on the island as we joined with a group of the members at the pier for a Creole celebration.  Much delicious food (as always), eaten late (as always), great conversations with much animated arm waving and gesturing (as always), and yet another array of memories tucked away in our mental photo album.  We didn't stay to welcome in the new year because we had the sister missionaries with us and they (and I) wanted to be home to see the new year from our apartment which overlooks the whole city of St Denis.  I have to say, it was an AMAZING sight!  The sky, as far as I could see in either direction, literally exploded with dazzling fireworks which lasted for twenty minutes and was followed by the release of floating lanterns...remember in Tangled?  These lanterns are about the size of a 40 gallon drum so their light is very bright and can be seen for a long time.  After all of the excitement, sound, and explosion of the fireworks, the peaceful, glowing lanterns floating upward and upward and upward was an intensely spiritual moment for me.  It was a breathtaking New Year's celebration that, visually, will be difficult to equal and we will never forget the sight.  We will also never forget what followed.

The next day, we heard that there may be a cyclone/hurricane (those words are used interchangeably here) coming toward our island.  We have heard this before, with nothing ever materializing, so we didn't think too much of it.  By Wednesday, however, we were on orange alert, which means "Get Ready" so we contacted all the missionaries and instructed them to have extra food, plenty of bottled water , batteries, candles, a tankful of gas, and anything else that they thought they might need.  The winds were picking up and it had started to rain; we knew that we would experience at least some of the tropical storm.  Wednesday morning we were on red alert, which means NO ONE leaves their dwelling for ANY reason or they will be heavily ticketed.  It was strange looking on the city below with totally empty streets.  All day the winds raged at 80 - 90 m/hr and the rain fell like buckets being dumped from the sky, but the most alarming part of the storm was the ocean.  Usually calm and serene, the surf boiled with waves of about twenty-one to twenty-five feet crashing on the shore; we could hear the sound of it even though we live probably five miles up the mountain.  Our apartment never lost power, but many of our missionaries were without power all day and into the night.  The worst part for me was the late afternoon, about 5:00, when everything just stopped: no wind, no rain, no sound, just the heavy, humid air and the steel-gray skies.  It was eerie and made me very uncomfortable.  The storm site I was following indicated that we were in the eye of the storm, and I thought, "Okay, then what comes next?"  We finally went to bed and during the night could hear the wind and rain picking up, but when we arose the next morning, all was calm and it was over...just like that!  Some parts of the island had many downed trees and, of course, there were broken branches everywhere, but no structural damage anyplace as far as we heard.  The natives here said that it was a "little" storm; they have experienced winds of up to 200 m/hr; I can't even imagine that.  I thought so many times during the day of hurricane Sandy and all the tragedies of New York.  Storms like that are terrifying.  When I alerted the family about what was happening, Tucker said, "I hope you don't get washed up on African shores somewhere!"  At that point you really do feel like, "Hey, we are 500 miles from another major land mass; what do we do out here if things really get bad?"  As it was, Brent and I rather enjoyed a day of catching up, alone, in our apartment once we knew that all of the missionaries were safe in theirs.

Our mission here will be one-third completed next week; we can't believe that.  In some ways it seems like we have been gone from home for such a long time and yet, in other ways, it seems like we just arrived.  I would have thought that I would be babbling along easily in French by now; not so.  The language has been a challenge for me, and for Brent, even though he had spoken it decades ago.  We have decided that the important thing is just to keep praying, studying, talking, not worrying about all the mistakes we make, knowing that we are doing the Lord's work the best we can, and having faith that when it is really important, He will make up the difference.

Highlight of the week:  A humorous anecdote about the storm.  We were so busy taking care of everything here that we were surprised to receive a frantic telephone call from President Adams.  "I hear you are on red alert over there!"  "Yes."  "Well, why didn't you call me?"  "Because everything is under control and we didn't want to bother you."  "Well, there are people in Salt Lake watching this stuff and they are going to be calling me and asking me about the hurricane...I NEED DETAILS! There will be mothers calling Salt Lake checking on their children on La Reunion and I need to have something to tell them!"  We were in big trouble (and we could see why, but we just hadn't thought of calling), but he and Brent had a good laugh, later...much later.

Lowlight of the week:  The morning after the storm, Brent and I needed to stretch our legs, so we went to the workout park early.  As we walked up the ramp, I was delighted to see huge snails, as big as your fist, everywhere.  I said to Brent, "Oh look at....."  CRUNCH!  He hadn't looked soon enough.  We both just let out a little moan as we observed at the crushed shell.  Bad moment.

We had a meeting at the bottom of the island, in St Pierre, and arrived twenty minutes early, so we went down to the beach because we could see that the sunset was going to be spectacular.  It didn't disappoint, and we wanted to share this beautiful part of Heavenly Father's world with you.

Brent LOVES peanut butter and they don't have it here.  One of the elders once found a small jar in a grocery store in St Pierre and Brent was able to buy some, but none of us have ever seen it since.  The day after Christmas, the zone leaders came over to our apartment and said, "We have some good news and some bad news; which do you want first?" The bad news.  "Okay, well one of the elders beds collapsed last night and will have to be replaced.  Now the good news, and you have to just say "Yes."  Okay, what is it?  and the elder rummages in his backpack and pulls out this huge bottle of crunchy Skippy peanut butter, which was obviously part of his Christmas sent from home.  Brent didn't want to accept, but he insisted saying, "You already agreed to just say yes."  Moments like this REALLY touch your heart.

Elder Tema, second from the right, the Tahitian elder who served with us when we first came here , arriving from Madagascar to spend twenty-four hours out of the country to meet Visa requirements.  We SO wanted to keep him but, alas, he had to return.  The other two elders are our zone leaders.

When we have had a tough day and cooking dinner isn't an option, we visit "the mustache man" to purchase one or two of his delicious grilled poulets (whole chickens).  His personality is just as large as his appearance, and we love our visits with him, but we love his chickens more!  As AJ would say, "Delish!"

After the rains.

Now you can see better why he is called "the Mustache man."

My visiting teacher Lorraine Tennant, aka Mrs Cavanaugh, sent me some of her MOST delicious candy in October.  I waited anxiously but by Christmas had decided that it was gone forever.  Two days after Christmas, however, I was surprised and excited to see her package in our mailbox.  I told Brent, "I know the candy will be stale, but I'm eating it anyway.  I can't wait to have something familiar."  I opened the box to find an Arabic newspaper and a Super Mario Bros XBox game, in German!  I have tried to figure it out, but am totally mystified.  If you have an answer, e-mail me. I know I am smiling, but I was REALLY mad all that day!

We stopped at a little roadside stand and Brent bought me these flowers to celebrate the new year.  I know it is winter at home, but the flowers are blooming everywhere here...in the summertime.

May your new year be full of all that you deeply wish for.  You are in our thoughts and prayers daily.

                                                                    A Bientot!