“I Feel The Earth Move Under My Feet”

I wonder if Carole King spent any time in an earthquake ridden country before writing that song.  Since we got here in November, we have been hearing stories about the September 4, 2010 earthquake in Christchurch.  Although it was a 7.4 magnitude quake and did structural damage to many buildings in the city, no one was killed and only a couple of people sustained major injuries.  The people here recognize how lucky they were that the quake happened at 4:00 a.m. when people were home in bed.  Everyone has a story about what happened in his or her house that morning. The quake was followed with hundreds of aftershocks, so many that people got quite used to them.  They had slowed down so much that people were beginning to think the earth had settled down and gone back to her restful state. 

On Christmas night, we were at the Bell’s house hearing their stories about the quakes.  Miriam, their oldest daughter was laughing hysterically about her mother, who rounded up an old fireman’s hat and sleeps with it and a flashlight by her bedside.  Winnie showed us her earthquake gear.

I thought it was funny until 2:00 in the morning when we were awakened by a boom and shaking walls and bed.  I remembered Winnie’s hat and wished that I had one of my own.  We have been having some movement about every hour for the past 15 hours.  Some of the quakes are very mild and short lived, but one or two have been longer and accompanied by a loud noise.  It has an unsettling effect on my nerves.  I guess even the Kiwi’s were unnerved because our attendance at church was down by about 2/3.

The rest of our week was filled with work, missionaries, friends, Christmas, and one little site-seeing trip. 

Monday John and I had an afternoon with nothing to do.  We decided to take a P-afternoon and travel to Akaroa.  Akaroa is a beautiful little town on a bay about 45 miles southeast of Christchurch.  We have heard wonderful things about this place and wanted to go and see for ourselves.  Shortly after leaving the city, we drove through a dry, flat country that looked like Wyoming (certainly not the most beautiful countryside we’ve seen here).  This terrain lasted for about 25 minutes and then the land started dropping off on the right side of the road.  We realized that we were climbing and before too long, we were in green mountains that reminded me of Switzerland.

We climbed up a very windy and extremely narrow road, until at the crest we saw this beautiful sight.

Seven kilometers down more twisty roads brought us to the quaint little town of Akaroa.

It was a bright sunny day by the ocean—all the ingredients necessary for a powerful sunburn.  We have been warned many times by the people here about the danger of the sun.  Apparently the ozone is thinner above New Zealand than anywhere else on the planet.  We were told to bring sunblock (which we ignored) or stay out of the sun.  All of the schools here have mandatory hat rules for children out on the playgrounds.  It is so cute to drive by these primary schools and see each child in a bright red or bright yellow, big brimmed sun hat.  We decided to join them. 

We were hot, but we didn’t get a sunburn.

Wednesday, we met Elder and Sister McIntire at the institute building and together we went to learn about inspecting missionary flats.  Sister McIntire is about 5 feet tall and weighs about 80 pounds—very, very tiny.  And yet, she has those missionaries whipped into shape.  I was expecting filth, and I was so surprised to see how clean these flats were.  She has a checklist that she has made available to each companionship.  They know that she will look at everything on that list and they know they’d better have it clean.  I’m not sure how much they looked forward to her visits, but they did what they were asked to do.  I think she had them scared to death.  The McIntires are leaving for home in a week and John and I will become the new flat inspectors for the Christchurch zone and Nelson which is at the top of the south island.  We are glad that we will follow Elder and Sister McIntire—these missionaries are well trained. 

Thursday was a combined zone conference—all the zones on the south island—for Christmas.  President and Sister Joliffe were down and the spirit was very festive.  It was great to meet all of the missionaries serving on this island.  After some great talks from the president and his wife, we were divided up into three groups.  One group was to be a choir and the other two were to write and perform a ‘roadshow’ based loosely on ‘A Christmas Carol’ by Dickens.  John and I were assigned to the choir and it was another one of those jaw-dropping sessions with a truly gifted islander.  Elder Metusela, a Samoan elder from Australia, was asked to direct us.  With tremendous confidence, but no arrogance, he prepared us to sing 4 Christmas Carols.  He made up moving parts, he sang with each section--basses to sopranos, he played the piano (he plays by ear and reads music), and directed with gusto.  I don’t know that I’ll ever get used to the innate ability of these people.  All my years of training and experience cannot bring me up to his speed.  I love, love being around it.

Missionary choir directed by Elder Metusela.

Scrooge (Elder Tzanis) and the Ghost of Christmas yet to come.

Missionaries singing ‘Twelve Days of Christmas’ Kiwi style.

Missionaries from the Islands performing the ‘Haka’.  President Joliffe put a stop to this.  It was interesting watching him.  I don’t envy his calling.  It is like walking a tightrope—wanting to be warm and loving, fun, and yet keep the missionaries within the rules.  I think he does a great job.  He has set difficult goals and manages to exceed those.  He gets these young men and women to stretch.

Most of the missionaries at zone conference.  Hearing this group sing ‘Called to Serve’ was heaven.

Thursday night we had an informal institute class.  Many of the students were away on vacation.  Those that came shared their testimony of Jesus Christ.  It was wonderful.  I really do love these young people and enjoy every minute we spend with them. 

Friday, Christmas Eve, we cooked meatballs and spaghetti—the usual Stauffer tradition.  They tasted different this year—everything I make here has a little different flavor—but they were good.  I also made Jean Ernstrom’s hot fudge sauce and it was the hit of the evening.  We had the Bournes over and the missionaries that are serving in our ward—Elders MacTavish (from Hamilton, New Zealand) and Rowe (from Orem, Utah), and Sisters Motuliki (from Tonga) and Wu (from Taiwan).  Sister Wu told me of her conversion and the difficult decision to come on a mission.  She is an only child and her parents are not okay with the fact that they cannot talk to her whenever they want.  They are both angry with her and she gets no mail from home.  She was afraid to call on Christmas, wondering if they would accept her phone call.  And yet, she smiles. 

Christmas day, we went to Bournes for lunch.  What a spread!  Margaret cooked ham, turkey, chicken, and pork, along with five or six different vegetables.  It was delicious and they always treat us like members of the family.  Lovely, lovely people.

Amy’s pumpkin pie she made to make us feel like we were home.  She used her last ‘tin’ of pumpkin that someone had brought from the states.  It was delicious.

Between everything else, we study our online seminary training.  We will be the online seminary teachers for this stake and perhaps the districts on this island. 

Everyone will be on vacation next week, but we have plenty to keep us busy.  We have more flats to inspect, more online training to do, more potential institute students to flush out, more quakes to ride out, etc.  I love it when we’re busy.