"Ten Pound Poms were British citizens who migrated to Australia and New Zealand after the Second World War. The Government of Australia initiated the Assisted Passage Migration Scheme in 1945... The migrants were called Ten Pound Poms due to the charge of £10 in processing fees to migrate to Australia." (Wikipedia)
This week our Sister Cydney Brown hugged us for the last time. She flew home to the U.S. on Tuesday. She was one of the first of the American missionaries to come to New Zealand after the country opened following the Covid pandemic.
The sisters made one last sunrise visit to the Ngongotaha Public Lookout on Operiana Street
On Sunday, we were greeting people at the door when the Baxters came through. They were on vacation to the North Island and other places in the Pacific. They recognized our name badges from a conversation we had in the Los Angeles International Airport as we headed out on our mission--they had been getting ready to leave for Beijing, where the dad works for the Air Force, and we were about to get on the plane headed for Auckland.
We invited them to dinner, and had the best time together. They were missing family in the U.S., and I was missing my grandchildren. We had mashed potatoes and chicken gravy, green salad, ice cream and BYU mint brownies. Then we played Telestrations and Rummikub, at which they excelled. It was a much-needed reminder of home.
They are back in Beijing by now, but they'll head back to the U.S. in a few more months.
Sis. Brown, on the far right, on her last day with the District. We found out that it was her family, living 16 years ago in John Day, Oregon, that had taken in my sister-in-law Charlotte's children when she and her husband Jorge went to the hospital for the second time, after she had been sent home as "not being ready" to have her baby. Lucas was born in the bathroom at home!
Small world.
District missionaries having lunch together. One is a new sister replacing Sister Brown, and Sis. Mower is on splits from Gisborne.
All the missionaries have crocs so they can attach their colorful little badges
This is Sister Tekaiti from Kiribati (Sis. Tek-Ice from Kiri-Bas). The letters ti are pronounced with an "s" sound. She learned English in three weeks at the MTC. She is amazing.
The Republic of Kiribati is a series of tiny coral atoll islands halfway between Hawaii and the Cook Islands/French Polynesia, with a total population of about 120,000. An LDS temple will be built there. Sis. Tekaiti is smart, feisty, and fun.
Here she is at District Council Meeting, in the "Hot Seat," answering two minute's worth of rapid-fire questions from other members of the District.
After having the Fairy Springs elders and sisters over for dinner later that week, we played a game of Telestrations, which although fun for the Americans, was perplexing to Sis. Tekaiti. She had no concept of most of the picture prompts, including my oh-so-accurate drawing of an American square dance.
After having the Fairy Springs elders and sisters over for dinner later that week, we played a game of Telestrations, which although fun for the Americans, was perplexing to Sis. Tekaiti. She had no concept of most of the picture prompts, including my oh-so-accurate drawing of an American square dance.
Elder Rooks and I took another trip to the Hamilton Temple, this time to do sealings with Chris K. and her friends Liani and Ronnie. She was able to finish all of her names. On the way home this group always stop in Dinsdale at a lunch counter with sandwiches, meat pies and doughnuts.
Chris and Liani eating their sandwiches
Elder Rooks waiting for all the chatting to end
Bro. Gibson from the Tarawera Ward brought a soil drill to see why Chris' water around her shed was not draining. He brought up not only sand but a very deep layer of a strange, water-retaining, lightweight, popcorn-like "clay."
It is "gley" soil, probably volcanic ash "with blocky structures," and is the reason her water is backing up. It explains why trees don't die when it doesn't rain--the layers are saturated from spring rains, and hold onto the water all summer.
This was more than Elder Rooks could manage, so Chris will have to call someone with a commercial drill to see if the gley soil ever gives way to something with drainage capability.
I have been seeing these cricket-like insects with long antennas in the house. Lenora Winiata said they sounded like Wētās, which in New Zealand can be up to 4" long. I am very glad these ones were not 4" long! I recognized the name as the title of New Zealand's Digital special effects and props company, the Wētā Workshop
Logo of the Wētā Workshop, which did extensive work for the Lord of the Rings and Hobbit movies
The Gibsons invited us to their place in Brunswick for lunch, so we took Highway 30 northeast around the lake
It was a lovely day, and the neighborhood was beautifully well kept, with large acreages
Fenced, with a lot of trees
Brunswick Road, where the Gibsons live
Brother Gibson greeted us into his house. He and his wife built a home with their daughter's family in the East Wing, while they inhabit the West Wing. They are both very artistic and interested in the world around them
Karen Gibson had a wonderful lunch of bread and beetroot chutney, cheese, sliced meat, and homemade lemonade, with Coupland Bakery cakes for dessert
Brother Gibson, who was born in England, told us that he immigrated to Australia as a 10-Pound Pom in the late 1960s. The invitation for English workers made way for one million immigrants between 1945 and 1972. The program ended in 1982. The BBC has a television production detailing the lives of some of these immigrants.
Bro. Gibson is exceptionally bright, hardworking, and has had a lot of interesting jobs in his life. He eventually left Australia for New Zealand, where he met his wife, and has lived in Rotorua ever since.
There is some controversy about the origin of the word "Pom." Most early references have to do with the ruddy pomegranate cheeks of the Brits, although Bro. Gibson prefers the acronym of "Prisoner of Mother England" which refers to the arrival of English convicts to Australia earlier in the 20th century.
I had Sis. Gibson give me a tour of their lovely acreage. She is a talented artist, and makes everything more beautiful that she turns her hand to.
The buggy apples are falling off the trees, and Mr. Pukeko is taking full advantage of it.
Since I am always making fun of Mr. Pukeko, I thought I would include this glamour shot to show his other, more polished side
