nanilaie.info

During our June 2010 road trip on the U.S. mainland, my wife and I visited with our friend and fellow Laie 4th Ward member, Sister Napua Baker, who is currently serving as a senior missionary for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints at the main Family History Library in Salt Lake City, Utah.

Sister Baker told us she has been given a special assignment that is particularly appropriate and pleasing to her, but let her tell it in her own words:

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(If you do not see a YouTube video window above, go to:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iE6o9xKChmE)

Bryce Canyon National Park in southern Utah is a great place to visit — or revisit, in our case: I first went there as a kid with my parents in the 1950s. Then, when Sally and I were on our honeymoon 40 years ago, we stopped there briefly to give the island girl her first hands-on experience with snow; and later we took some of our kids there . . . so going back recently felt very familiar.

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(If you do not see a video window above, go to: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D-R1TzA9hdw)

On the north rim of Grand Canyon

My wife and I, along with several family members, recently drove from Las Vegas to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon in northern Arizona. For me, it was the first time in over 45 years I have been there, and in some ways it was a bit of a pilgrimage.

But first, please note the canyon itself quickly bankrupts any decent writer of adjectives: It is spectacular, awesome, inspiring . . . on and on. Those of you who have been there know what I’m talking about. The rest of you simply have to see it for yourself, then struggle to share its majesty with others.

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I first became aware of cockroaches when I was in elementary school in Salt Lake City, Utah, and we learned to do the Mexican hat dance to the music of La Cucaracha for a May Day program. Since then,  and even though I now know they are found in many places throughout the world, I don’t remember actually seeing one until I moved to warm, tropical Samoa as a Mormon missionary in 1965.

SIDEBAR: The Samoan word for cockroach is mogamoga, while the word for Mormon is Mamona; and since colloquial Samoan often switches the sounds associated with the letters ‘n’ and ‘g’ — or mona vs. moga can be pronounced the same way – cheeky people would sometimes derisively call us mamoga.

I saw way too many mogamoga back in the day, but since moving from Samoa to perennially semi-tropical Hawaii, I’ve also spent too much effort trying to keep away from the creepy crawlers. For some enigmatic reason, I thought some of you might be interested in a few of my more insightful cockroach tales, and perhaps even add a few of your own in the comments window below:

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While watching several of our grandkids recently, I recalled something we taught our kids early-on . . . BUT FIRST, I apologize for being away from my blog for a while, just in case anyone out there in the blogosphere wondered if this site is still active.

Okay, back to the grandkids: My wife, Sally, and I recently went to Hilo to participate in the baptism ceremony for Sam Makakehau Kim — one of Daisy’s four sons, for those of you who know our kids. As everyone was getting ready to go over to the stake center for the services, I was impressed to see that Sam, 8, and his two older brothers — Jonah, 10, and Hyrum, now 13 — took turns ironing their own white shirts. This ironing incident reminded me of several things:

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Lately we’ve been experiencing what passes here for Hawaii winter weather, and quite frankly for the fully acclimatized, it’s been down-right chilly: People wear jackets and sweaters all day long, put extra blankets on the bed at night, drink more hot chocolate, sleep with their socks on, etc.

For example…

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First, let me pay tribute to all those currently serving and who have served in the military, especially including my dad, the late F. W. “Mike” Foley — who met my mom while he was stationed at the U.S. Army’s Fort Douglas in Salt Lake City, Utah, and was also a member of the motorcycle honor guard when President Franklin D. Roosevelt dedicated Hoover Dam near Las Vegas, Nevada, on September 30, 1935; and my brothers-in-law, Jimmy and the late Eddie McShane, who served in the U.S. Army in Viet Nam.

Next, let me note that I appreciate the service and sacrifice of all those in the military, but I was never one of them. Coming of age during the Viet Nam war, however, I came close a couple of times, and was willing to serve if called . . . which forms the basis of my following recollections:

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I’ve been a freelance mass communications specialist for the past eight-plus years, and I can honestly say I love what I do — especially working with the relatively new digital media. The majority of my work over most of these years, however, has usually centered on writing and often illustrating my articles with pictures I’ve taken.

Writing and photography (along with my other skills) have enabled my family and I to live for many years and work close to home in Laie, a place I truly love. In fact, most of my freelance work is done in my home office . . . but over the years my work has also taken me far afield. For example, I’ve done assignments throughout Hawaii, the U.S. mainland, Samoa, Fiji, New Zealand, China, Mongolia and Korea. Some of my other work has also taken me throughout the Pacific islands and various parts of Asia.

I’ve done stories on a wide variety of subjects and people of very diverse backgrounds, such as my earlier blog entries on Margaret Mead (http://nanilaie.info/?p=404) and Great Britain’s Queen Elizabeth II (http://nanilaie.info/?p=327).

Recently, since it appears that my writing days for BYU–Hawaii may have come to a close sooner than I expected, I’ve been going through my old assignments, and thought you might enjoy reading (again, for a number of you) about a few of the intriguing people I’ve met, the places I’ve visited and subjects I’ve explored through my writing for this unique university which has had such a profound affect on my life. I encourage you to click through the links below for more information on…

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I learned one of my most useful skills in life in the late 1950s when I was in the 8th grade at Roosevelt Junior High School in Salt Lake City, Utah — touch typing. For that I must thank a most unusual teacher: Miss Bertha Rappaport.

Anybody who took beginning typing from her back in the day at “Rosey” could probably tell similar tales, and you might be interested in my following recollections; but before I get into the tiger of touch-typing teachers, a little background:

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I was picking a couple of ‘ulu [breadfruit] the other day from my neighbor’s tree that hangs over into our yard . . . and it got me thinking about the bright green little ‘ulu tree that President Eric Shumway and a number of others planted during the Church College of Hawaii/Brigham Young University–Hawaii  jubilee celebration in 2005 near the cafeteria entrance and the sidewalk leading back to the dorms. As members of the Jubilee steering committee, we all felt the symbolism of the ‘ulu carrying into the next 50 years was perfect: An ancient Polynesian staple, beautiful tree, long-lived, prolific, multiple uses of all parts of the tree, etc.

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