STAYING ON THE PATH

We traveled on Saturday and again on Sunday to attend meetings in Yerevan with Sister Dibb of the YW and Sister Stevens of the Primary. These are some of our members, while we're waiting for gas. They are posing with a cute little thing we learned from our visitors. "I will stay on the path back to my Heavenly Father!" If you hold your hands just right it looks like you really are hanging on to an iron rod. We do have a Heavenly Father, and there is a path back to Him.

Ani had awakened the night before, got out her English dictionary, and wrote a letter to President Monson which she slipped to Sister Dibb to deliver, and I know Sister Dibb will graciously give it to her father, who will be touched. I'm sure our visitors learned from those they came to teach, and we all learned so much from them----what they said, and the kind of people they are. I know it was a time that Heavenly Father was smiling down on this little group of us who are helping one another along the path.

Masta Pasta Part 2

Rose hips growing wild under the beautiful Vanadzor sky

Armine with a small part of her harvest from which she makes her healthy juice

This video doesn't begin to show ALL of the pasta hanging outside, nor the very meticulous process of hanging one long strand at a time. But you do get to hear the rooster, and I think the image of all this pasta is almost like a ballet.

The Masta Pasta Maker from Vanadzor!

OK, so the video starts out sideways. And I know the Chinese are credited with inventing pasta, and the Italians have turned it into an art form.

But with borrowed videos, and figuring out ALL BY MYSELF how to load a video, and kicking myself for not bringing my own camera, I'm going to tell you something you probably didn't already know. My friend Armine, mother of Ani and Araks, lives on the outskirts of the city. She is a provident, and talented woman. God told her that Friday was the only day she would have left to make her years' supply of pasta (and He was right because it's been raining and windy ever since and you'll understand the significance of that in a minute.) Armine has great faith and great gratitude for every blessing she has. And she listens.

So she brought in 100 kilos of flour, and all the neighbors she could find, and all day and into the night and the next day they made pasta.

After they have made the dough they throw it onto the floor, (between sheets of plastic) and knead it by dancing on it for two hours! Then they roll it out, slice it, and stretch it out with the technique of wrapping it around their arms.

They hang it outside, one long strand at a time, on the clotheslines to dry. It's an amazing and beautiful sight. That afternoon we feasted on fresh pasta topped with yogurt, garlic and butter, and it was as delicious as anything I've ever eaten. From a kitchen with no running water and a woman with an endless supply of energy, who gives me the best haircuts, and, in fact, cut my hair after lunch that very day. I did catch her yawning during our Vanadzor Tabernacle Choir rehearsal this afternoon. She can yawn and sing at the same time.

That's Armine you're hearing, and here's a quick Armenian lesson: you hear her saying "jan, jan" over and over, which means "dear". For instance I am Quir Blunck-jan, and appropriately this segment ends with "shat lav" which means "very good".

IF YOU'RE HAPPY AND YOU KNOW IT......

Primary is a pretty special time of the week for me. I feel a little more at home there than when I was teaching Gospel Doctrine in Armenian. Wouldn't you??? I bribed the branch president to let me be the Primary pianist by agreeing to direct the Vanadzor Tabernacle Choir and it's been a good thing. This particular Primary day was extra special--- six almost perfectly behaved children. They were good little lambs.

Last Sunday we had twelve, which, with our resources, was like having 150 at home. Terrifying. Nuneh, our friend who had been buried alive for two days after the earthquake, was teaching for the first time. She had prepared the lesson with Seda and me on Tuesday, and then went home and made a visual aid and had notes from the manual. I silently prayed for her the whole time and it all worked out fine. The way things do.

Seda wanted the children to learn "If You're Happy and You Know It" in English. So we sang the lesson version which is: "help your friends", "say your prayers", "tell the truth" and "share your toys" in English, and it held their attention for almost forty five minutes. They did so well that I told them I'm going to record it and give a DVD to our General Primary and YW visitors in November. I'm also going to record the VTab singing "I Know My Savior Loves Me". My inner stage mother is just popping.

ANOTHER ONE FOR THE GRANDCHILDREN

This is the Pooh-Pa standing on top of the highest mountain in Armenia called Mt. Aragats. From there he could see Mt. Ararat where Noah landed with the ark. He climbed up with three of his friends----a man in his 30's, a man in his 50's and a man in his 70's. He's hoping that they will be interested in learning about the Gospel. He has lots of friends, and all of the children in the neighborhood say "Hello!" to him in English and throw him their soccer balls when we walk by. He always makes them laugh.

It was a hard climb---but he made it to the top and had a great time. There's another hard path we're all trying to climb---the path that leads to Heavenly Father and Jesus. Here's a suggestion that can help us get to the top, from President Heber J. Grant who was the prophet when Pooh-Pa was one year old:

" Do not do something that you can not ask God to help you to do"

Maybe you could talk about this at Family Home Evening next week?

SHOPPING IN WONDERLAND

I think I like to shop more than I will admit. But I prefer to do it alone, and to help myself and to have as much privacy as possible in a public place. And I really just miss going to the grocery store and finding what I need and checking out and going home. Here, as I've mentioned before, every little market that calls itself a supermarket, has the market-lassies who plant themselves next to you while you try to select something from the puzzling inventory, which is still better than fighting your way to the front of the counter and having to ask for every little thing from behind the counter, which is what you have to do in the non-supermarkets.

As we've driven to Yerevan I've noticed a new supermarket just outside of the city. Today I persuaded Elder Blunck to walk there after dropping his suit off at the laundry (no dry cleaners, but they do a pretty good job of cleaning a suit however they do it.) As it turned out, what seemed to me to be a short distance as we drive by in a taxi turned out to be a two hour walk.

The market was very attractive, very clean, and very devoid of customers, except for us. We got more cheerful attention than I ever wanted . There were at least 6 or 7 lassies everywhere, happily ignoring my "I don't know Armenian OR Russian" and chattering away and not letting me buy the baklava I wanted to buy---I think they were telling me it wasn't as good as the twinkie-like things I finally bought just to make them happy. And they didn't carry anything I can't find in the 11,0000 shops closer to home. They were relentlessly ubiquitous and merry and bright and I could hardly wait to escape.

I couldn't help but ponder the possibility that even though the Gospel is packaged very attractively---indeed first class is the only way to describe the way the Church does everything it does---I hope we, the members and the missionaries, don't get in the way of people who are interested in the truth but need some peace and quiet while the Holy Ghost works with them.

We found a nice taxi to take us home and I was very grateful for the driver who wasn't interested in talking. (Sorry if this sounds curmudgeonly----I appreciate the fact that these dear people have no privacy their whole lives. The elders even have to sometimes divide and conquer when they're teaching---one sits and chats with the sociable ones who are coming and going and visiting, and fixing food, while the other takes the serious investigator aside and teaches.)

SEDA'S BIRTHDAY

Seda does so much for everyone in her world that I wanted her to be pampered for her birthday. I bought her a cute picnic basket and dishes, and since the weather was so beautiful, planned a relaxing picnic, American style. She thought the best place to have it would be her brother-in-law's very nice summer cottage.

I roasted chicken, made salads, & chocolate birthday cake, and had what I thought was an abundant feast, ready to eat. But Armenians just can't not do what they always do, which in the summer time is khorovatz----barbecue on a wood fire. Karin, Seda's husband, got the fire going and cooked pork, eggplant and potatoes.

So my offering was rounded out with Armenian food. I think they were just concerned about confronting American food and needed a back up. "One man's ways may be as good as another's, but we all like our own best." (Jane Austin ) Nowhere is that quite as true as it is in Armenia. We all liked each other's food and Seda didn't have to work as much as she usually does.

I have tried no less than five times to post more pictures and can't get it to work, but we had a jolly old time eating and then dancing the night away. Seda can't not dance---and she's very good at it. Her best birthday present, though, is that her family is planning to be sealed in the new Ukraine temple in March. (They were actually sealed early in July, and her husband is the new branch president. Seda is one happy woman!)