Easter Sunday

Our Easter Sunday this year in Roatan was quite different from others we have had in the past. Below is a letter Dustin wrote to our family back home regarding our experience but we wanted to save it in our blog also as a journal entry.

Here's a few pictures we also wanted to remember.....

Even though it was very scary his first Sunday, every week now Ethan plays the closing hymn during our church meeting.   He also plays the prelude music as people enter in....

He also finds the time to teach the kids new handshakes......

Journal Entry - 4/20/2014

I thought I would share our experience of Easter Sunday this morning down here in Roatan...quite different from any other I've ever attended.  But what started out as an almost comical experience for me turned into one of the most meaningful Sacrament meetings I've been to in a long time.  

We showed up this morning about 10 minutes early because Stephanie is the new "Audio Technical Distribution Engineer".  That's a fancy title that we made up for audio translator headphone passer outer.  Because this is a tourist stop for many of the cruise ships, we always have visitors from the states who are passing through, or here for a week on vacation.  This is the only branch or ward in Honduras that has these headphones in Sacrament meeting.  So she passes them out to the visiting "Gringos" and welcomes them, etc.  A perfect calling for her, she loves it.  

As we arrived it was raining, and no one had opened the windows in the chapel, so it was like a sauna inside with all the humidity.  I opened up all the windows, and there were probably about 10 other people there.  

The branch president was gone, as was the first counselor, so the 2nd counselor was in charge.  He didn't seem in too much of a hurry to start, and at 9:15 he finally got up to ask everyone to move up, since there was only a handful of people.  As we got up to move up, a dog pranced into the building (there are dogs everywhere here) and started heading into the chapel like he owned the place.  Someone shooshed him out before it got too crazy, and so we all moved up.  I smiled as I thought, "don't think I've ever had that happen before."  Five minutes into the meeting, the rain was coming down so hard that the power went out.  Fans, lights, the microphone, everything.  So we had to open the two front doors to let some light in, and it was still a little obscure as we began the meeting.  The sister missionary got up to lead the music with no piano accompaniment (Ethan usually does the last hymn, and every week I feel a twang of guilt like I should be helping with this as well) and most of the members sing off key, so it is always an experience.  

The branch president had told me yesterday that we would be having a quasi-testimony meeting and hearing from those who had gone on the temple trip the past few days.  As I looked at the small #'s in the congregation (it's usually packed to the rafters with people), I realized that other than our own family, there were probably about 3 other people in the congregation who had been on that trip.  I started thinking, "uh oh, this is going to be a short meeting".  I advised the kids that we were going to need to bare our testimonies regarding the trip, and asked them to be thinking about that.  

And so we began the administration of the sacrament, with no lights, no fans, no microphone, and it pouring rain outside with the doors of the chapel open so that we could see.  I smiled and shook my head at the thought of the grand Easter Musical Programs I had attended in the past and thought how different this was.  

But something amazing happened as the Sacrament prayer started.  This humble man who struggles to read the prayer each week began, and the Spirit washed over me.  I felt an immense gratitude to him for administering this sacred ordinance, and making it possible for me to participate in it.  As the bread was passed and I partook, I thought of the Savior and His sacrifice, and especially his resurrection which we were celebrating today, and the Sacrament took on a meaning that I had never before experienced.  As I thought of the covenants I was renewing, I was so grateful to Him for all He did for me.  

After the Sacrament, I was still somewhat emotional when they invited us up to bare our testimonies.  Brother Sanchez, who is the translator, and one of the only other ones who was at the temple excursion looked at me like, "Please come up and go first".  So I went up and bore my testimony about the experience I had just had, thanked the priesthood for administering it to us and then bore my testimony of the wonderful temple trip that we had had.  I was so grateful to so many of them for the sacrifice they make to go to the house of the Lord and make covenants.  The trip cost our family about $500, which was a lot for our budget this month, but we had faith that all would work out.  But I then realized that $125 per person for these humble people is probably more like $1,000 to us.  And yet they are SO excited to make the 10 hour trip each way in taxi, ferry & bus in order to attend the temple.  How many times have Stephanie and I thought, "eh, we could go to the temple...or we could go to the movies...(which are right next to the temple in Boise)  Maybe we could just go to the temple next week?" We like to joke.  haha.  We've never skipped the temple to go to the movies, but I realized how much we take it for granted because it is so close.  And how much of a sacrifice it is for these humble people.  

After that, Stephanie got up and shared a beautiful spiritual experience she had had in the Celestrial Room of the temple, and then Ethan got emotional as he shared his testimony of how a simple act such as doing a baptism for a stranger can effect their eternity and free them to continue in their progression.  

Several others shared their testimonies, and I felt the spirit so strongly in this unorthodox Easter Sunday sacrament meeting, devoid of any grand musical #'s, eloquent talks on the Savior, or even air conditioning, lights or a microphone. But the witness of His divinity, sacrifice and resurrection was there nonetheless.  

Happy Easter everyone.  He lives!   

Mangrove Forest

(By Stephanie)

One of the things I wanted to do to celebrate my birthday last week was go on a         mangrove tour way up on the northeast side of the island.  

Here's E & E starting the journey on a cute wobbly canoe....

Going across beautiful waters admiring the villages of Oakridge and Jonesville......

We went through amazing, long stretches of mangroves like this.....

Mangrove forests are a tangle of trees that grow in tropical, saline sediment habitats.   We learned that they are SO strong and can withstand crazy environmental conditions like hurricanes, tsunamis, floods, etc.

George, our guide, said there were crocodiles (or was it alligators?) that once roamed through these mangrove forests but have since left because of too much traffic in the last 20 years. (But we didn't tell the kids the part about them being gone...just to keep them on their toes)

Mangrove forests also provide food and protection for lots of other birds, fish and animals.  We were hoping to see a monkey swing from tree to tree but no such luck.  :-)

Couldn't get enough of these beautiful, green waters....

This is our awesome guide, George, holding a little crab he plucked off one of the trees

 George, George, George of the Mangrove.....

These shrimp boats reminded us of Bubba Gump's Shrimp Co

Big shrimping industry here, but only a certain time of the year.....

Couldn't help but post a few more cool island homes right on the water. 

 Hardly any roads or cars in this area, everyone gets around by boat because all the stores and homes are all along the water.....

Loved this little boy playing and splashing in the water off his porch....

Garifuna Celebration

On April 12th, we went over to the northeast part of the island to see the Garifuna Festival.  

April 12th is the day the Garifuna people celebrate their arrival on Roatan back in 1797.

From what we know, the Garifuna descendants came from African slaves that were being transported and escaped when the ship wrecked on the reefs off the island of St. Vincent in the early 18th Century.  

Here's the parade they had in the morning....lots of hip shakin' dancing, drumming, and singing as they walked and rowed along the beach.....

During the whole English and French colonization at this time, these black slaves rebelled so the worst of them got exiled to Roatan.....about 5000 of them - but only half survived the journey.

The village of Punta Gorda (where this celebration is every year) was the first Garífuna village on the island and there is still so much culture and heritage here.


We loved how they decorated their canoes with banana and coconut leaves.....

After they paraded along the beach, they walked back on the streets of the village.

We just followed along enjoying the music, dancing and all of their colorful clothes

I had to crop the picture to get a close up of this little beauty.....

Dustin gettin' jiggy with the Garifunas....

Ethan is so proud.

Many of them put these dried leaves and grasses over their heads, necks, waist, and shoes....

(this guy wasn't very authentic with his cool shades and baseball cap but you get the idea)

                                                     Loved the taxis.....

So, this was a little disconcerting to have a scary, black, masked guy (with some kind of black motor oil smeared all over him) running full out towards us.... blowing a loud whistle as he came......

I managed to take a picture but then wouldn't be left alone unless we gave them some money.

Evidently, that's the game! 

There were 3 of these guys running around, blowing whistles trying to catch anyone who tried to take a picture of them

or....any innocent victims (namely cute girls)....they would act like they were going to hug them with this black oil all smeared over them if they didn't give them money.

If the victim had $ they'd leave them alone, but if they didn't have any, or as they frantically looked through their purse, he would come so close to hugging them and all the girls would scream and everyone would laugh.

We only saw a couple of people with black smears on their shirts.

It was a hoot to watch, and we laughed so hard as they teased the cute girls.

We tried to figure out if the better descriptive word for this activity was "Extortion...or Entertainment"?

Lots of drum thumping......

And booty shakin' going on here.....  A very fun day!

Local Island Homes

(By Stephanie)

 In our few months here on Roatan, we have seen so many beautiful homes, condos and resorts.  There is plenty of wealth, lots of mansions, pools, boats, and toys here, but we LOVE the charm and down-to-earth feel of the local islander homes too.

Just to show a contrast, here's a home we saw while exploring up at Parrot Tree.  A GORGEOUS home with amazing views.

 

Here's a few examples of some of the awesome local homes we've seen on our walkabouts....

This is the guy we see out on his porch every time we go to scuba diving.  His place is right behind Scuba Roatan.....

Here's some homes we saw when we went over to the east side of the Island (more on that later).....

A lot of these homes on the east side are only accessible on boat.  EVERYONE has a little boat to go everywhere.   If you need to go to the store, you hop on a boat and pull right up.

This home was completely remote, tucked back behind lots of mangroves.....this was one of our favorites.  Seems like the perfect hideaway house.  And the front yard is to die for.  haha.

Had to throw in a couple of cute churches for good measure........

I've Been Bitten...

I've been bitten by a lot of things in my life.  When I was eight years old I was attacked by a German Shepherd dog who bit me on the back as I tried to run away.  When I was twelve my bicycle "bit" me when my finger got caught in between the chain and sprocket.  And in college I'm pretty sure I had a girlfriend once who was a vampire...I'll leave it at that.

But never in my life has being "bitten" by something been so incredible...that is until today.  My eyes were opened to the world underwater when as a family we went scuba diving together at "Hole In the Wall" in Roatan, Honduras...and I was bitten by the diving bug.

I had dove a handful of times before, but there was something about this experience, indescribable and yet my mind flurried the entire time with adjectives and superlatives that I hoped I could capture later in word.

For those who have never been scuba diving before...I'll try and do it justice.  From the moment you go under the water, all sound disappears.  All "noise" from the Upper World is gone, and the only sound you hear is your own slow rhythmic breathing from your compressed air tank, like Darth Vader in Star Wars.  Shhhheeee Hooohhhh, Shhheeee Hooohhhh.  Time seems to stand still, because everyone and everything moves in slow motion.  It is the ultimate tranquilizer.

Our dive guide had instructed us we would begin the dive by dropping down onto the white sand patch on the ocean floor about 30 feet below.  As I descend from above, in slow motion, I feel like an astronaut coming down onto the surface of the moon and I think, "This must be how Neil Armstrong felt".  Touchdown...as a cloud of white sand kicks up from my fins upon landing.

I look up and others are descending as well, dropping down from the light above to the floor of the Under World...a world so vast and so beautiful you feel a sense of nothingness and a connection to God at the same time.  The colors are so vibrant, like a dance club filled with neon lights, illuminating everything in rich, glowing colors.

The valleys and crevices of "Hole in the Wall" are a maze of coral, each running off in different directions, all begging to be explored.  I have had a lifelong fear of tight spaces, or at least I thought I had...always shuddering at the mental thought of being stuck in a tight cave or tunnel, unable to move.  But as I weave my way through these tight coral valleys and tunnels, not only am I not shuddering, I can feel the adrenaline pumping through my body.  I must explore them all.

Then our dive guide leads us on to "The Edge of the Earth", a point where the 30 foot deep coral floor simply ends and disappears into a vast void of blue nothingness.  As you swim off of it, you literally feel like you're jumping off the edge of a cliff, but with neutral buoyancy from your gear you simply float like an astronaut in vivid blue space...zero gravity.  Absolutely stunning.  We descend down to 60 feet and glide along the vertical wall.  A crab the size of a bike tire crawls into a hiding place, but not before we've spotted him and gotten a look up close.  A small sea snake glides in and out of some coral, and a Grouper that must be half the size of any of us slowly swims by, unaware of it's own beauty and majesty.

The guide leads us to a spot he had teased us about at the surface...an underwater cave.  For some reason I inherently trust our South African guide named Francois completely as I swim into the black hole to follow him.  As we enter, the light filters in as our eyes adjust, and we go further into the darkness until we are completely inside a massive underwater cave.  Large fish swim in the shadows, and I cannot ever remember anything so exhilarating.  I.Am.Alive.

As we depart the cave and come back into "Living Color", I look over and see 2 of our dive buddies proudly hoisting a Venezuelan flag that they've unrolled and are dragging behind them.  Staking claim in the name of their country no doubt.  I smile and continue on, not wanting to miss a single thing, looking at every detail like a child in the world's largest toy store.  I look at my air supply...it's half gone already.  Time is standing still, right?  How could it have gone so fast?

I continue to weave in and out of coral tunnels, stopping only to study the different sea life and make sure my family is around to see what I'm seeing.  They are busy taking their own mental "Kodak" moments.  I swim along directly above them, finding a serene joy in letting the air bubbles from their exhaust tickle my face as they travel upward toward the surface.

The stillness of it all envelopes me, begs me to stay, and as my air supply continues to dwindle, I know that it must end.  Alas, time does not stand still.  Only an hour has passed.  It seemed like eternity.  As we slowly make our ascent, the surface of the water draws ever closer, and I do not want to return to the Upper World.  Like a teenager on a school morning, I just want 5...more...minutes.  Before I know it, my head breaks the surface...water is splashing in my face from the ocean ripples, the noise of people lifting their gear into the dive boat explodes in my ears and everything races back into fast motion again.  Back to life...back to reality.  And the only thought passing through my mind...is "When can I come back?"

P.S.  In order to maintain literary integrity, I must confess that while these photos are of diving at Hole in the Wall in Roatan, they are not all of this particular dive.  :-)