The month started with a trip to Frankfurt to settle reporting relationships, responsibilities, assignments and expectations. These have not always been clear, since this assignment is still a fledgling, We and the couple in Geneva are but second generation in this task. Issues arise almost daily about who, what, where, how, when and why. The meetings in Frankfurt a few weeks ago settled most of those issues.. . During the meetings, we got much better acquainted with him who shall be our next “boss” or area legal counsel in Frankfurt, David Colton, a wonderful and able man, about 15 years our junior.
If we had to pinpoint two observations of these meetings, they would have to be Cole Durham’s unforgettable hands and the amount of food offered and consumed. Cole leads the International Center for Law and Religion Studies (ICLRS) at BYU. We tout their business card. He is world famous, a much loved ambassador for the LDS church, the gospel, human rights, and religious freedom. He’s a kind, gentle, warm man who uses his hands to enclose others into his heart. His always moving hands are never clenched. The fingers never point. They include, beckon, invite. They are constantly, gently, revolving, up, out, down and in, like the wheel of a slow moving paddle boat. All this is accompanied by his deep, chocolaty, irresistible voice.
The other unimportant observation about Frankfurt was the food, arranged by folks accustomed to feeding people huge quantities. Lunch was a choice of too much salmon, too much steak or too much asparagus, called spargle. Germans are passionate about white, in-season spargle. We went for spargle, hold the hollandaise. The afternoon session was more like the darkened, wainscoated sitting room of an ancient men’s club frequently populated by those who are well past their productive years, which gently echoed with snorts, wheezes and snaps. No necks were broken. No tears were shed. No visitors were awakened.
We drove to Rotterdam for a-thirty-and-under (and over, too) fireside. We met with about 40 of these good folks. They had been lectured by many several times about getting married. So Leonard made up a story about how we met. He said we were in a meeting similar to this. A GA came in and said we needed to get married. He had pink numbers in one pocket for the sisters, blue numbers in another for the brethren. He told us to pick a number, find the matching number and go get married. He said and we did. That was L’s story. Then, he said we had been sent here by a GA. We have numbers in our pockets. After our talk, we will have a drawing. And you will find the matches and will all go get married. They loved it. It relaxed a tense situation. Sure they should get married. But pressure doesn’t help. It was a great evening about Russia and about life-guiding Aphorisms (Every virtue, at the testing point, takes the form of courage!)
We went to a Philippine reception, the 111th anniversary of their country’s founding. We talked WWII with a Philippine minister. At her request, we talked Mormonism with the wife of the Indian Ambassador to the EU and about the red spot on her forehead (it means she is married and her husband is alive). Cuts down on unnecessary conversation. She asked us about the LDS church and the chief difference from other churches (living prophet and revelation)
We went on a temple trip to The Hague and didn’t discover until we got there that we had both left our recommends at home. So, we spent a wonderful morning wandering the magnificent streets of a gorgeous little town on the outskirts of The Hague named Sweet Lake City. We strolled the cobblestone walkways, glancing in stores on both sides of this pedestrian boulevard. The “Bakkerie’s”, two of them, were crowded. We tried but couldn’t buy every wonderfully enticing thing. The cheese store held a wall cabinet displaying 2 and 3 foot rounds of every kind of cheese you can imagine and some you can’t, pepper laced gouda, and runny camembert’s. Did we buy some? Maybe you haven’t been paying attention. Soon we were headed back to Brussels. (Did I say Brussels? That can’t be right!)
One evening, four missionaries came over. Kathryn gave them a tour of the house while I told the mission fixer what needed fixing. How did he fix us? Let me count the ways: Now 1) all computers interface with the printer, 2) HP hard drive works, 3) scans store properly, 4) media player sound works, 5) strange computer messages interpreted 6) instructions for the laser printer available, 7) language program password problems solved, 8) dryer problems fixed, and 9) washing machine works; all this in 1 hour.
We attended a baptismal service. Everything went wrong. Messy place because of construction. Disorganized, late starting meeting, silent microphone, long winded speakers. We crowded around the small, windowed baptismal font. The candidate was stunning in her bright white baptismal suit, which contrasted beautifully with her brown skin. Icy water. She almost ejected herself out of the font. When she got acclimated, she asked for FIDO. He was a little, fuzzy terrier, leashed and shaking at the back of the basement room. He was dragged up to the window. We thought, no, please don’t. Please don’t ask for the dog to be baptized with you. Just, please no. Wasn’t! She just wanted to make sure that Woofie had a front row seat. Wonder what he thought?
One day, we went for a long walk to shake off the monitoring stupor and happened upon a little puzzle shop tucked into one side of a dilapidated building. A whole new world opened up to us, a room to the brim with 100’s of puzzles, simple to excruciating. The worst, by far, was 2500-piece puzzle of black and white Dalmatians. The starting place had to be the dangling, pink tongue of one pup slobbering happily in the center of the puzzle. Sound hard? Wait, there’s more. It’s a two sided puzzle. Sound hard? Wait again, our preciousnesses. The puzzle on the back is the same picture, black and white Dalmatians, with tongue of pink. Difficile, non? Wait. It’s rotated 90 degrees from the same picture printed on the front. Vicious! Cunning! Hazardous! Dangerous! Keep hands above table edge at all times. Must be visible? Clear?
A high point was the FHE for the younger set, held in our home. It exceeded expectations. We want them to feel free to gather in our beautiful Belgian apartment for special occasions. Almost 40 attended. Christian taught and Denis translated. Denis served in Bordeaux about ten years ago, is from the Congo, the color of priceless ebony, slim, soft-spoken, well educated, successful and a wonderful translator. After the lesson, we drifted up to the dining room like hot-air balloons, where the soups were hot and the table was festooned with breads, soups, salads and cookies. KCR’s brownies were heavenly. We had to move folks out at 10:00 because of noise laws.
The highlight of the month was a just completed trip to an Oxford England conference, “New Legal Approaches to Religious Rights.” We took one of those incredibly fast trains from Brussels, through the chunnel and on to London. Getting through customs was fun. The agent asked why we were going. To attend conference. Where? Oxford. What’s it about? New legal approaches to religious rights. He rolled his eyes, and invited us to join him for a pint. Later, we said, after the conference. He smiled.
After a fast, smooth and comfortable 2 hour trip, we arrived in London and took the Tube to Paddington Station, where Kathryn found a nice display of Paddington Bears at Paddington Station. We didn’t BUY one. In Oxford, we walked and ogled the grand, historic city center, the sites of about 37 colleges which operate independently under the Oxford University umbrella. We found Balliol College in preparation for the meetings.
The ride to our hotel on the southern rim of the city reminded us of CS Lewis’ “The Great Divorce,” a fanciful tale of the bus ride from the depths of hell to heaven, visitors welcome. Oxford’s center is beautiful, active, interesting, historic, captivating. Its expanding, Dickensian suburbs around Oxford, are places of rot and degradation.
Prior to the conference, we were allowed to walk about the manicured, shaped and loved grounds, One imagines young and old brilliance strolling by, begarbed in tilting mortar boards and flowing robes, discussing by two’s weighty matters of the mind. The grounds are surrounded by the Elizabethan-style, sand colored buildings rock with arched, iron clad windows. Everyone droll in their British correctness, don’t you know.
The conference was outstanding, divided into 4 1 ½ hour sessions with two or three speakers. Topics all related to human rights and new legal approaches but came at the subject from such diverse perspectives as transitional justice, terrorism, the workplace and Sacred Places. We were the only truly non-academic folks there, but our acceptance by all was warm and welcoming. We met many friends of Cole Durham and David Kirkham, both held in high esteem by these wonderful people. We have invites to come see them, to be taken on tours of important LDS sites (Copenhagen and the “Block” paintings, The Isle of Man). We even were sought out by a Religion Professor from Italy who had been teaching in Hertford College, Conn. He wanted to know about LDS church, Book of Mormon, genealogy, so we have arranged for him to pick up info and the book in Milan. Most importantly, we gained friends, real friends.
At 1 minute after midnight on 27 June, LCR awoke, realizing he had just turned 70. It occurred to him his mother passed away at age 73 and father at 77. He was now beginning his eighth decade, the same decade which neither of them finished. Did they feel the same at this age, fit and healthy (in spite of Dr. Dunson’s list of 25 health concerns), energetic, wanting to learn and experience and contribute?
Returning from the conference was as unbearable as it was unimaginable. Our full car on the train to London included 6 or 8 girls, age 16 to 25, and their 8 to 10 year old children, squawking loudly, rudely in an almost unintelligible cockney dialect about their experiences with their partner, beating partners, arguing with each other about how to beat their kids, talking about the things they were going to do in London (carousing, drinking, etc.) In relief, we got off in London to join a double-decked bus tour prior to the train to Brussels. Problem was that the tour guide sounded like one of the arrogant, partner and child beating partners of one of these 25 year old sl-----. He was incredibly full of himself (“I am the best tour guide in the world”), crude, loud, and obsessed with murder and slaughter in olde London town. We had no way to get off because of luggage.
We are finally back, ending a great month of monitoring, meeting, and masticating.
Love to all et toute est bien,
Leonard and Kathryn.
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