Booty Duty

It’s not what you think. For the last two weeks I have been volunteering at the Vancouver Temple open house almost every other day. Most days I am in my element as a tour guide, but every now and then I am assigned to be on booty patrol.

In order to keep our brand new temple looking just as pristine as it was the day we first opened the doors the to the public, our guests are asked to wear white plastic booties over their shoes. Certainly not too much to ask, especially when we provide you with someone to actually put the booty on for you. Simply hold onto the bar, lift your foot, and voila! Ready to walk the floors of the temple (with marble tiles from Spain and carpets hand-woven in China)!

So today was my turn for this glamorous job. For six hours, from 8 a.m. to 2 p.m., I got to sit in a little chair designed for six year olds, and bent over I got to admire the feet of about a thousand people. Big feet. Small feet. Old feet. Dirty feet. Wooden feet. Yes, in that position, for that many hours, I placed shower cap like plastic bags over the shoes of all of our guests.

At one point one of the ushers came over and asked if we had recently “booted” a Chinese woman and her children (this was during a mad rush of people). We had to apologize and say we didn’t know – unless he could describe what type of shoes they were wearing.

I’ll be honest; at first I wasn’t very thrilled with my assignment. And then I remembered that Jesus Christ, the Saviour of the World, had sat in the same position and washed the feet of his apostles. I was sufficiently humbled. My back still hurt, but I continued my labour with a new attitude. These were the feet of my brothers and sisters.

Their reactions were interesting. Most people were very appreciative. Some were surprised that we would perform such a service. A few were embarrassed and almost wouldn’t let us serve them. This made me sad. Sometimes we become so independent that we don’t let others help us and then slowly we stop helping others.

This experience has made me more determined to forget myself and serve others. And so, I am officially on the look out for more booty duty opportunities (or some variation thereof).

Beautiful British Columbia

I have a confession to make. I am in love with British Columbia. Even though I have been absent for a majority of the last six years – coming home for brief visits only between school, study abroad and missionary work – it is quite evident that the Pacific Northwest still has my heart firmly in her clutches.

Why this sudden public declaration of my love? Well, resolutions to be more fit and few coins to spend have forced me out of doors and helped me re-discover the diverse natural paradise that is my backyard. As a result, I have reached the conclusion that beautiful BC is the best place to live in the world.

As proof, let me feature three different locations each within a fifteen-minute radius of my house.

Minnekhada Regional Park


I had never actually been to this specific trail before, but my parents discovered it while I was away. One morning my mom suggested we go for a bike ride and since then I have run the ten kilometers (there and back along the trail) several times while one or both of my parents rode their bikes. With the Pitt River on one side of the trail and blueberry fields on the other, as well as beautiful snowcapped mountains in the foreground, this little excursion can be quite breathtaking (and not just from the exercise).

Rocky Point Park


We started visiting Rocky Point when we first moved to Canada 16 years ago and have continued visiting ever since. Sometimes we go for ice cream and a leisurely stroll along the pier and other times we go for a longer walk or a run around the inlet to Old Orchard Park on the other side. When it’s low tide you can almost walk right across the inlet (something I have not yet attempted). However, I HAVE participated in the Penguin Swim on New Years Day from this location.

Buntzen Lake (and trails)


Buntzen Lake was also one of the first places we discovered after arriving in Canada. During the summer we would go for picnics and a swim in the lake. Nestled in between mountains, the lake and surroundings have attracted several movie crews – you might recognize it from Lake Placid. There are also several hiking trails around the lake. On Saturday, a friend and I decided to hike Diaz Vistas, which took us up the mountain and gave us ten views of the Indian Arm inlet, with Vancouver and the North Shore mountains in the distance. After five hours of hiking we were ready for some Tim Hortons (also within a 15-minute radius from home)!

There you have it – three reasons why my heart beats for British Columbia. And so, if I roam once more from home, which I am very likely to do, I predict that in the words of John Donne, I will always end where I begun.

Letters Home

As a missionary, communication with my family at home was limited to emails once a week. In this age of technology, it is very easy for communication to take over our lives and so this “fast” from the internet and cell phones helped us focus on what we were doing as missionaries. Once a week for thirty minutes I would type as fast as possible to try and create a little window into my missionary life for my family to peek through. Below are some silent sound bytes from those emails home:

The Missionary Training Center
• If the Jerusalem Center was Hogwarts, I think this [the MTC] is the equivalent of boot camp. It has been a bit of a hard adjustment to tell you the truth, for day or so there I wasn't sure what I had gotten myself into.
• All week we have been practicing and teaching the first lesson about the Restoration of the Gospel including the fact that we have living apostles and prophets. When I saw President Uchtdorf it made it very real for me -- there in front of me was a living Apostle of the Lord Jesus Christ.

Temple Square
• In the MTC, President Uchtdorf told us that as missionaries we are extensions of the twelve apostles, called to preach the gospel.
• I talked to her a bit and then asked her if she would like a copy of the Book of Mormon and testified that it was another testament of Jesus Christ. She said she would like to read it!
• I am trying to work on my Christ-like attributes. So far I think my mission has pointed out all my weaknesses ... but hopefully it will give me the chance to improve myself and turn my weaknesses into strengths.
• On a more positive note, Heavenly Father has sent me some Jews this week! … She put her arm around me and said, "Who would have thought we'd find a Mormon Jewish girl."
• The three of us companions have been getting along well and I have adopted the name of Swartzalolo to fit in with my Tongans, Sisters Tau’a'alo and Taumalolo.
• After I bore my testimony about the Book of Mormon, I asked them if they had any questions. Ahsan, who had seemed very attentive the whole time, said, "Yes, how can I get a copy of the Book of Mormon?" Of course that is the kind of question we want to hear.
• So start praying for me now. I've been praying to go where the Lord needs me, but sometimes I put in a little request to go somewhere east coast or southern. [I got called to Georgia!]

Georgia on My Mind
• I didn't get very far with [the turtle] though because one of its claws touched my hand and I quickly put it down. Not long after that, a guy drove by in his truck and rolled down his window to see what was going on and when he saw the turtle his eyes got wide and he said, "That’s a snapping turtle!" So I don't know exactly what a snapping turtle does, but I guess I'm lucky it didn't snap.
• Things are always interesting in the south. The other day we went tracting [knocking on doors] and in one day we ended up having conversations with an ex-marine, a tattoo artist and an alcoholic.
• From the very beginning of my mission, I was praying that I would be able to experience finding and teaching someone and seeing them baptized. Of course I promised to work as hard as I could and so it is wonderful to see how the Lord will consecrate our efforts.
• I'm happy to preach the gospel and bear my testimony to those who will listen. And I guess I can better understand the apostles like Peter and Paul who rejoiced that they were counted worthy to suffer shame for Christ.

The End is Near
• Now that I have more of a sense of urgency because my time is getting short, I have to be bolder than before.
• This last week has been a very good one -- full of miracles!

Returning to the real world ...

After an 18-month hiatus, I decided it was time to update my blog. I’ve been home from my mission for exactly two weeks now. I have put off writing because I wasn’t sure how I could adequately capture the last year and a half in one blog. Of course, that would be impossible, so I won’t attempt it. Instead I will do a short series of mission snapshots to give you a glimpse of my experiences.

Welcome to Temple Square

Nestled in the very center of Salt Lake City is a beautiful 35-acre plot known as Temple Square. This sacred spot of ground was my home for the last 18 months of my life. My assignment as a missionary for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints was to welcome the guests that visited and introduce them to the history and basic beliefs of the Church.

Many people came with very little knowledge about the Church and I loved being able to share our message of hope through the story of the sacrifices of the early pioneers.

You see, the early members of the Church traveled to the Salt Lake Valley in 1847 to escape severe religious persecution. Although the valley was uninhabited and rather barren when they arrived, to the pioneers it was a place where they would finally be permitted to dwell and worship their God in peace. They came with nothing but the few belongings they could fit in their wagons but their hearts were full, knowing that they were being led by God’s chosen prophet.

On a visit to Temple Square, the first structure to catch the visitor’s eye is of course the temple itself. However, this semi-gothic granite building represents more than great architecture – it represents the knowledge the pioneers had that God was in their midst. Knowing that God had again commanded his children to build temples where he could bless them, the pioneers laboured for forty years to complete this house of the Lord.

Every day I was able to stand in the shadow of that holy temple and bear my witness that God loves us today as much as he loved the people we read about in the Bible. But even without my witness, stepping onto the grounds people could feel a sense of peace. One man felt the difference immediately as he stepped inside the gate. It intrigued him and he was seen stepping out, pausing and then stepping back in again. One lady called guest services and asked what kind of air filtration system we had because she had never felt as good as she did when she was at Temple Square.

It is true, that Temple Square can boast of beautiful landscaping, heavenly music and lovely sister missionaries, but I think the peace people feel must be attributed to something else.

Another man who felt something was of the Jewish faith. As I talked to him, he told me he had felt these vibes in very few other places before. One was at the Temple Mount in Jerusalem and the other was at the Tomb of the Patriarchs in Hebron. I found this comparison to be very significant. As members of the LDS church we believe that God has again restored the fullness of his gospel to the earth – the same gospel that he revealed to his ancient people. To me, the feelings of peace I experienced near that holy edifice confirm that.

What a blessing it was to spend 18 months standing on such holy ground.

So long, farewell ...

Well, I'm just about ready to leave for my mission. I have about an hour before we are going to the airport and I am still taking care of last minute things - thats just the kind of person I am I guess. I fly into Salt Lake City tonight and then tomorrow I will be reporting to the MTC (Missionary Training Center). I will be there for approximately one month and then I will be shipped off to Temple Square. I'm very excited for this opportunity to serve the Lord and teach people a little bit about the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

I won't be able to access my blog personally, but I plan on sending a few "updates" which my mom will post for me, so check back every month of so if you like.

Thanks for reading the blog!

Lions and hippos and bears ... oh my!

As it turns out, you don't need to travel to Africa to have wild animals in your backyard. Last week we had a mamma bear and her two cubs pay our backyard a visit. Unfortunately I didn't actually get to see them. We only found out the next day when one of our tenants (who live in the basement suite which is accessed through our backyard) told my dad. It made more sense then why they had been banging pots loudly at eleven o'clock at night when I was trying to go to bed. I guess it was their barbeque that attracted the bears in the first place, but they successfully chased the bears away.

The only evidence that we had bears is a claw mark they left in the plastic foam that covers the legs of our trampeline. So maybe it wasn't the barbeque, but the trampeline that lured those little baby bears over the fence! But seriously, it's not really a good thing to have bears frequenting your backyard. If they've come once, they are likely to come again and can be rather dangerous. Just within the last few weeks there have been some bad bear attacks in the area; one lady was attacked in the middle of the day with she was gardening and barely made it out alive.

Last summer I had a bear encounter of my own when I was going for a morning run. I guess I must have been "in the zone" because I was listening to music and looking straight ahead when I found myself just across the cul de sac from a big black bear. The bear, who was standing up tall eating from a garbage can, had had the advantage of watching me run up the road. When I noticed him, he was looking right at me. I had never really been scared of bears before. Usually when I saw them I was in a car, or at least at a safe distance away. But this was too real and I was terrified. At first I was frozen not knowing what to do and we stood there looking at each other, but when his ears twitched I decided very quickly what to do. I turned round and ran as I have never run before not stopping until I made it back to my house. That's not true. I stopped once at the bottom of the street to inform an Asian lady of the bear up the road. I hope she understood me; I don't know how much English she spoke.

Later on when I told people what had happened someone said, "but you aren't supposed to run away from a black bear are you?" I looked it up and found that if you happen to encounter a black bear, the best thing to do is play dead. To be honest, I acted on instinct and the thought never crossed my mind. But who in their right mind is going to lie down and play dead in a situation like that? I guess I'm just lucky that the bear didn't decide to run after me, because I don't pretend to believe that I could have outrun him.

Anyway, enough on Canadian wildlife. The real reason I am blogging is to post a video my brother took of the wild African lion we saw eating a Kudu, so enjoy!

P.S. I have also added links to my newest facebook photo albums.

Plastic-wrapped suitcases

Probably the main thing that stuck out to my family during our visit to South Africa was the increase in security. Safety was already a concern when we lived there; burglar bars and security gates covering our windows and doors were a normal part of my childhood, as were the big walls that surrounded people’s homes.

Even though we’d heard reports of how it had only gotten worse, it was still a bit of a shock coming from Canada to see all the precautions that need to be taken to stay safe. For example, almost every home or property is surrounded by an electric fence. At the shopping centres there are guys who are employed to stand in the parking lot and watch the cars. Because they each have their own area to protect, they eagerly direct you to a parking stall when you arrive and then direct you as you back out in hopes of a good tip. And along the highway there are even signs that indicate where the “High jacking hotspots” are. (We had to take drive-by photos of these because of course it would have been unwise to stop there even for the sake of a picture.) Almost everyone has a story of how they were hi-jacked, robbed or held at gunpoint but in spite of this, people adapt and life goes on.

Luckily we came home with only one safety related story and it is a humorous one. At the airport in Johannesburg it has become a “trend” to have your suitcase plastic wrapped to ensure that the items in your suitcase are intact when you collect them at your destination. Before checking in your luggage you visit a wrapping station where you can have your luggage secured at 35 Rand (approximately five dollars) per case.

Unfortunately, on the evening we flew out, the only machines that were working were operated by a particular airline and were for their customers only. After asking a few people if they couldn’t help us anyway, one “wrapper” beckoned for us to follow him. When we were a little way off, he explained he could help us (at 30 Rand per case) but he could only take one suitcase at a time so that he wouldn’t be caught. This airline, you see, offered this service to their customers free of charge, and by doing us this favour he would be earning some pocket money. (His money-making scheme was not unique – all of his co-workers were making similar deals with other people and were trying not to get caught themselves.)

We agreed to the deal, but said that one person needed to come with him to make sure he didn’t walk off with the suitcase. He refused because he didn’t want to get caught and lose his job, however, my Uncle Mark quietly walked to a place where he could keep an eye on our new friend, so we agreed to his terms. Just before he walked away with the first suitcase he said, “Ok, just pretend you’re sitting around or something.” I thought this was quite funny because we were a very large group and therefore we were very conspicuous.

After wrapping each suitcase he tried to be very stealth; he would walk by wheeling the wrapped suitcase and without looking at us, he would leave it in front of us. A few feet further he would turn around and walk back, and as he passed I would have the next case waiting in his path so that he could grab the handle and take it without stopping.

When four of our six bags were wrapped he wanted my Dad to pay him, but we said no, we would pay him when he had finished the last two. He wasn’t happy about that – he wanted to make sure that if he got caught he would still get the money for his efforts. We agreed to pay him part of the sum when all of a sudden he walked off. At first we just thought he was trying another decoy (earlier he had taken one of the bags up to the check-in counter before bringing it back to the machine to try and look less-suspicious), but when he didn’t come back we started to get confused. After a few minutes I looked up and saw him beckoning to us from behind a column a few feet away. Thinking he wanted his half-payment, my brother went to give him the money. But when Kent got there, the guy, obviously distressed, asked him, “Who’s that man?” Kent didn’t know which man he was talking about. “Who’s that man over there?” When Kent realized he was talking about my uncle it took a while to convince him that he was family. He must have seen my Uncle Mark watching him, and he had assumed that Mark was his boss and he was going to get fired.

In the end, we got all six suitcases wrapped, he got his money and I assume he kept his job, and I must admit I was very amused by the whole thing. Not only did no one steal anything from our suitcases but we were able to easily recognize our bags in Detroit and Seattle as they came round the conveyor belt. For some reason no one else had plastic wrapped their bags. And our shuttle driver was quite disgusted that the airline had managed to destroy all of our bags until I explained to him that the bags were fine – we had just flown from South Africa.


Protective electric fences surround most properties.


This photo speaks for itself.


Negotiating with the plastic wrapper at the airport.


The result - my securely wrapped suitcase.