The Life of Chaumont Devin--letters, journal entries, and notes.

A letter from my older brother, Morris, to my mother's mother, written
(probably with mother's help) about 200 miles south of Japan, aboard the
tjikarang.  The time is early april, 1938.

Dear Grandma,

We left Japan yesterday, and there are only two other passengers on this boat
besides ourselves.  Daddy tried to steer this boat, and got five degrees off
course.  He is having a wonderful time, as he likes boats so much.  The
captain eats at the table with Daddy, Shirley, and Mother.

I was up on top, and watched them shoot the sun.  This tells how much to
retard the clock.  Also, whether we are on course or not.  I looked through
the thing they shoot it with.  The sun is all big, and red, and round.  You
look through another telescope, and it makes it little.

It is getting warm down in this ocean.  We will soon put on our white togs.

The man in the hotel at Kobe gave the girls beads, and they are stringing
them.  They are the same kind Mama used to have when she was a little girl.
He gave us boys some puzzles.  We like them.  He gave us money to spend.  His
name is Henry Sanford, and he used to run a bicycle shop in Napa, so he and
mother had a fine visit, all about Calestoga, and Saint Helena, etc.  He has
lived in Kobe since 1898.

We went to a Korean church, and we had to take off our shoes.

We went to Japanese houses and ate sukiaki.  They cook it right before you.
It has fresh meat in it, bean sprouts, brown gravy, vegetables, etc.  They
keep adding some more as you eat it up.  Each person has a bowl of rice, and
the sukiaki is fished out with chopsticks and eaten off the top of the rice
with some of the rice.  We ate with chopsticks, and it was fun.

Mother went up in the mountains.

The girls went to Nara, and saw the great Buddha.  It had 966 girls on its
head.  They rang the big temple bell.  It was thirteen and a half feet high,
and weighed forty-eight tons.  They crawled through a hole.  That meant they
will be able to get into heaven.

We stayed home and had an American meal, which tasted very good as we were
hungry for some home food.

My new teeth are all growing in.  I am the only one who has not been seasick.
I like to ride on boats.

The cherry blossoms were beautiful in Japan.

Love from Morris.

Tell Grandpa we've been praying for him to be well.  I hope his flowers are
growing good.

                                        Love,
                                        Morris.

End letter.

End letter.

Next letter:

                                        april 6, 1938

Dear Florence,

I thought you'd like this map of our journey.  We are almost exactly on the
equator this morning.  We woke up early, and it was so calm in the midst of
the Celebes sea that we could see fish in the water, coconuts and bananas
floating, etc.  All of a sudden we rode into such a tropical rain as we'd
never seen before.  The only thing that anywhere near equals it was the storm
we had in Michigan the year we went east.  We cannot imagine that it can be so
cool this near the equator.  We've not suffered anything so far with the heat.
These rains cool off the atmosphere.

We want you to take a big map and look at the two little islands at the very
southeastern tip of the Philippines.  We passed between the mainland and these
islands into the Celebes Sea.  It was dark, but we had a good view of the
mountains on the Philippines all day.  We didn't realize that we were going so
close to the kingdom of the Sultan of Sulu.  And now, this morning, we're
looking at the island of Celebes.  I had always thought of the Philippines as
a hot, dry place; but the mountains are covered with dense jungle, and it's
about as hot and steamy as I'd pictured it dry.

We've had flying fish all the way so far, and this sea is full of them.  I
feel rather sad that we've left the Pacific.  It always seemed like home was
just across it.  But now, strange waters, strange places.

Really, we've just had a wonderful trip.  We'll never forget the things we've
seen and heard.

Only one more day until we meet Floyd Brown in Makassar.  What a time of
rejoicing that will be!  We stay there three days, then sail three more to get
to Amboina on the fourteenth.

We've all gotten fat, just eating, sleeping, and sitting around.  What a life!
I keep feeling like you're along with us, Florence.  You always liked boat
trips so much.  It's surprising how the time passes.  You'd think it would go
very slowly, but we find it passes quickly from one meal time to another.

There's just a honeymoon couple, Mr. and Mrs. Bennet, besides ourselves.  They
are very retiring, and don't bother us a bit.  The children and the captain
are old pals.  He is so nice to us, and kids and teases the children all the
time.  They all spoil Morris on every boat, as Chinese love children, and play
with them all the time.  Our children learn to write Chinese numbers to one
hundred in no time at all.  We keep on with the Malay, too, and I hope it will
come as quickly so that we can do the Lord's work without wasting time.

I guess there will be both Dutch and Malay schools in ambon.  What a help it
will be to have Floyd Brown advise us about such things.  We'd feel lonely
indeed without anyone.

We're getting tanned up, but Ralph has a real sunburn.

Unless it should become very clear, we cannot see Borneo, as wee keep close to
the Celebes side.  I drew a pencil mark the way our boat came.

I have not been much seasick at all.  The first two or three days, on both
boats, I didn't feel too good; but soon got over it.  It's only when the boat
rolls a lot that my stomach doesn't take it.

The children have surely had a wonderful time, whether they realize it or not.
I'm sure it will prove of value to them later in life.

Almost everyone we meet speaks several languages.  They think nothing of it,
as it's practically necessary in these islands, where dialects are prevelant.
Most officers on this boat speak Dutch, English, Malay, and Pidgin English.

well, I must write some more letters.  How we look forward to hearing from you
once more when we get to ambon.  It seems ages since we heard in one way, and
then sometimes it only seems like a day or two since we left home.  We've not
suffered much so far from homesickness, though I think perhaps Shirley does.

Floyd Brown just met us here in Makassar.  What a wonderful day!

                                        Much love,
                                        Edna.


Edna Devin says this letter was written to her sister, Florence Buell, and to
her mother, who was still living at the time.  She says it was written aboard
the Java-China-Japan Line steamer, "Tjikarang," a freighter.

Next letter:

                                        Makassar
                                        Sunday morning
                                        April 10, 1938

Dear folks at home,

We arrived in Makassar Friday morning, at six o'clock--which was Cherry Lee's
birthday.  The sunrise over Makassar was beautiful.

But Floyd was not at the dock.  The Lord wonderfully helped us.  We got into
the wrong office at the steamship company, and in walked a dutchman who said,
"oh, I'll just send my boy up to the Pinkster Kirk" (the Pentecostal church,
in other words) "to get Mr. Brown."  So we decided it was the right office
after all!

The greetings with Floyd were in public, and many laughed as we all exchanged
kisses, especially at Ralph and Floyd.  How thankful we were to be this far on
our journey.

The saints had three nice rooms all prepared for us, though they did not
expect us till Saturday.

We have had a wonderful time here.  Went to a tea yesterday with the
Missionary Alliance saints, who have received us so royally.  We surely thank
God!  their labours in New Guinea will be an entirely different field from
ours, so we can fellowship and pray one for the other.

Right now, after three Sunday Schools, one after the other, we are getting
rested before we eat.  Floyd is cooking dinner.  I took a picture of him with
three native babus cooking.

So much to write, I don't know where to begin.  This is the most beautiful
place we've ever seen anywhere in the world, and the most interesting.  When
the boat arrived, hundreds of Mohammedans and Malays, in their bright-colored
skirts, called sarongs, and fezzes, poured onto the ship like ants, and began
to unload it.  We had never seen such a sight!  they are so small!  no larger
than Rod. And many are smaller.  But powerful muscles help them do hard work.

There are coconut and banana palms all over town, and a lush green foliage,
and grass so bright, spotted with gorgeous flowers.  Our bouquette is lavender
and purple orchids and maidenhair ferns--easily worth $25 in your land!  they
were picked just outside, in the garden.  Bouganville and lantana, hibiscus,
oleandar, are in almost every garden, and wild along the roads and lanes in
the country.  The whole city reminds us of an exotic greenhouse, full of ferns
and orchids.  Lacy trees line the lanes and roadways.

It is a lovely town, as the Dutch build so much better than the Japanese.  The
style of the architecture smacks loudly of the Spanish, but Ralph thinks
perhaps it is Portuguese.  The streets downtown remind me of Santa
Barbara--all bright colors, and whitwash, tile roofs, shutters, and
overhanging balconies.  Out farther the houses and gardens are more spacious,
and all houses have tile floors.

Rents are very cheap.  The Missionary Alliance house we were in costs only
$32.50 American money a month, and is like a Hollywood mansion, and nearly as
large.  A servant's quarters are in the rear.

Very few automobiles here.  All bicycles, but girls and women ride them too.
The taxies here are three-wheeled bicycle carts.  Mohammedans peddle them, and
for five or ten cents, three or four of us can ride for an hour or two this
way.  I took pictures of this also.

Now Floyd was holding revival services here when we arrived, as he'd been here
two weeks ahead of us.  They are wonderful!  God is blessing, and the glory
has come down.  Souls are being re-claimed, saved, healed, and filled with the
Spirit.

The saints are so cordial and lovely to us.  The little Mohammedan babus, or
servants, are so cute--about teedle's size, but grown women.  Very pretty.
Lots of jewellery.  One has an American $20 gold piece on a gold chain about
her neck, though I doubt if it's real.

Pentecost is in much the same state here as in the United States.  There is a
luke-warmness, some division and backslidings; but some are coming out for
God.

Two boys from our bible school in Java are here.  Nineteen years old, but they
seem about as powerful for God as Roderick, and perhaps not as much
established.  Yet they are such a contrast compared to the sinners, it is a
joy to behold what God can do.

The music is beautiful.  It is better than any in the United States we have
ever heard.  It is not like Hawaiian, and yet similar.  A choir of about
fifteen young people sing unaccompanied, and it is much better than our Bethel
choir at home of a hundred and fifty voices.  They sure can sing!

Oh, yes, we are not as hot here as summer days at your house.  Though we sweat
plenty, right now, while I am writing, I am not sweating.  A cool breeze comes
in, and it is noon.  About two to four in the afternoon is the hottest time,
and everyone undresses and goes to bed, then takes a cold shower and dresses.
Meetings start early, at six forty-five, but the heat stays with us pretty
well until late evening.  The last part of the night and early morning is
cool, so people arise about four a.m.

We are to have free rent at Ambon, and I feel sure we'll be most comfortable,
as they say it's as cool or more so than here.

Now we are very glad we studied Malay, as we certainly find it's easy to pick
up, because we already have almost a complete vocabulary.  We can ask for
things, greet people, and understand much already.  Nearly all speak a few
words of English, which helps.  Floyd speaks Malay so fluently, and interprets
for us.  And maybe you think I wasn't thrilled our first night here, bringing
the word of God, Floyd interpreting, with the power of God!  not like our
Japanese meetings.

One thing we miss very much.  As soon as we left the United States, Sunday
dropped right out of the calendar.  No different from any other day.  Japan
and the Indies observe all days alike except their own holidays.  Japanese
children go to school on Saturday, many of them.  Americans may seem lax about
Sunday, but you'll never know what it means until you've been away like this,
even just to have the stores closed!

The food we've had so far has been American, and good, and just what we like;
but Floyd says they're cooking it especially for us.  So we're not initiated.
I guess food is very plentiful, and some of the new fruits are delicious.
Pisang, pronounced "pea song," is banana, so we have seventy-two kinds in the
Indies.  Say, they are delicious, and range in size from finger length to
sticks of stove-wood weighing two pounds apiece!  There is such a mixture of
people here we can't puzzle them out.
We don't know yet which are Malays, Buginese, Hindustani, Makassarese,
Javanese, etc.  But Floyd Brown knows them apart.  Some half-casts speak
perfectly good English.

Oh, yes, there are no mosquitoes or flies to speak of.  In fact, no flies at
all.  And no screens.  I don't know whether it's just the season, or always
this way.  The mosquitoes are not near as bad as right in our yards in Fresno.
Ants are very thick, and several sizes and kinds, and little tiny lizards come
indoors, but they are kind of pets, because they eat bugs and mosquitoes, and
the Lord made them look real cute to me, so I like them.

This is a busy port.  Seven big ships were docked, already loading and
unloading when the Tjikarang came steaming in.  The shops seem very modern,
and you can buy anything you want here.  The women dress very much like we do
at home, except the Mohammedans.  They wear long skirts, and have bare feet
and legs.  The men have gorgeous robes, actually sarongs, pink, red, purple,
blue, no orange or yellow.  A black or red fez for their heads.

Floyd doesn't seem to want to know the home news at all, which puzzles me.  He
didn't even ask how his mother is, but we told him most of it anyhow.  I think
it is very hard on him having to speak English to us, Malay to the household,
and the meetings on top of it all.

You'd laugh to see them do our laundry.  Two Mohammedan boys squat on the
tiled cement floor, and soak a bunch in clear water, take out a piece, lay it
on top of the tile, soap it good, and brush it or pound it.  Each piece done
laboriously by hand, ironed on a table with a charcoal iron.  It is big, and
the coals are right in it.

Floyd's meal was mashed potatoes, fried chicken, cucombers, creamed salad.
Then a chinese saint sent in a whole dinner!  Did we eat!  Well, rather!

I am trying to think of everything you'll want to know.  We expect letters at
Ambon.  I wrote Ginger, but you can always send my letters along to her if you
want to.  She has been writing such sweet letters to us, and we surely enjoy
them.  My plan is to write one letter per family.  Aina for the Bartholomews,
Edith Gregory for the Tracies, Nelda Lincoln for theirs, etc.  Of course our
circular letters will soon come out now.

Our customs are all paid.  God so wonderfully undertook!  Floyd had already
contacted an official, who reduced all our declarations from dollars to
guilders, and even then cut off a lot, and never opened a box.  A guilder is
fifty-six cents, but buys much more here than a dollar does in America.  We
were prepared to pay as much as $100 duty, and were only charged about $35.
We do praise the Lord for that!

Floyd and Roderick hit it off fine.  I hope they continue to.  I think it is
wonderful how the children have stood everything, and really behaved better
than at home most of the time.  Rod tries to go lickety-larrup riding
bicycles, etc., but has to sit down and cool off, which is good for him.  He
got so excited over Sunday school this morning, he says he can't wait until we
get to Ambon and have our own.  I'm so glad he is moved of God this way.

The little naked native children are just darling.  Floyd says the Sunday
school is neglected much in the Indies, so perhaps God will give Roderick the
burden.  Morris is so popular everywhere we go, I hope he doesn't get spoiled.
I suppose it's because there are so few white children.  There are many more
whites here, though, than in Japan.

Our cool breeze continues this afternoon.  Praise the Lord!
We find there is about six and a half hours difference in your time and ours,
but so far we don't know whether you are ahead of us or behind.  I think like
this: it is three here, April tenth.  It must be nine-thirty in the evening,
April tenth, for you.  Sunday service is just about over.  We'll have to look
it up, as I always picture what you're all doing at home while I'm doing such
strange things here.

One sister in seattle made us four girls each lovely housecoats out of bright,
flowered material, and we certainly have had need of them!  Here we must wear
something like that half of the time between bath, toilet, bedroom, etc.  We
are so thankful to have them.  We left all our heavy woolen coats, etc., in
Japan, for the Coots, as we have no need of them here.  If we go home someday,
we'l trust God to supply our needs.

We wear sandals, and no socks, in the house.  On the street, we must be
dressed up.  Otherwise we loose face.  The Dutch government simply commands
respect. (Ha,ha!)  We covet their good will, and obey their wishes as much as
possible.

Street hawkers here cry all day long.  One thing they shout always sounds
about like, "hup! hup!"  Almost like, "help! help!" but not quite.  I wonder
if he sells jewellery or fish.  You never can tell till the lid's off!

Shoe stores display every pair they have in glass-enclosed shelves, like glass
book-cases.  All you have to do is point out what you want.  Ralph's sandals
had to be made to order.  They cost about a dollar.

Our bed has yards of hand-made lace on it.  A great canopy of what we would
call "scrim," instead of mosquito netting, encloses us entirely.  However, we
like the breeze, and loop it up.  The ceilings are very high, walls very
thick, in houses here.

I will put a seed or two in my letters now and then, and you can plant them.
Tell dad the children all talk about him, and wish Grandpa could see all the
sights too.  I don't know why they always think of him.  Probably because of
his irish ways.

Much love to you each and all, and greet the saints in Jesus dear name!

                                        edna.

End letter.

Next letter:

                                        April 17, 1938.

Dear ones at home,

We landed here in the most beautiful spot in the whole world, it seems.  The
Lord was wonderfully with us on the last boat, and we are staying with the
native pastor and his family, who took us in with a fine welcome, the church
all decorated for our arrival.  We've had the grandest meetings, and are
rejoicing in Him.

Yesterday afternoon, a native Papuan, from the Digul river district, the very
farthest out-station of the hundred they want us to take over, came here to
the house, and gave his heart to the Lord.  He was in the meeting last night,
and we so hope he turns out to be a real worker.  He said he stood in the
doorway of the church the first night we spoke, and he wanted to know about
the Lord.  We think this is a most miraculous working of the Holy Spirit.  The
Lord knows, we'd love to be there in the real field, But we are not ready, so
he sends a man to us.  Praise His name for ever!

There is a great big work here, and Floyd starts revival services tomorrow,
April 18, 1938.  Now this is just like heaven for looks.  Some other things
are not a bit heavenly.

But god is gracious, and we are all just real well, and are going to rent a
house to live in, several blocks out.  It is not ready for us yet, and they
take all the time in the world here to do things.  We must have city water
piped in, etc.  It takes weeks instead of days.  We're very comfortable with
these people, who just about turned their house over to us.  Now our own house
will be like a big villa, all tile floors, a thatched roof, well and
bath-house out in the rear, about a dozen banana trees (one has a bunch on
it), three coconut trees, a papaya tree or bush.  I will try to send you some
seeds from this fruit in your christmas package.  I think they will get in
okay that way.

We are en-route to a wealthy Chinese home, our first invitation out in
amboina.  We went out about seven miles to preach the other night, and it was
such a lovely meeting.  Also, everywhere you look in this country, it is so
beautiful in this country that we just drink it in.

about the heat, we are all able to stand it, being about like some of your
days in Monrovia, when you sweat good and plenty.  Of course, it doesn't cool
off here like at your place.  Yet it is cool at night to what we thought it
might be.  We will not suffer much from the heat when we get settled, and have
things the way we want them.  The natives shut themselves up tighter than a
tin box at night, and put tons of mosquito netting around them, and never open
a window or door.  We open up everything, and it is cool enough then so we
need a light cover, doubled sheet or cotten blanket.

we can buy almost anything in the cloth and clothing line here.  Things are
much higher than Makassar, and every single thing is imported, so if they only
have one in town, that's all they is, and they ain't no more!  We need seven
of some things, and that's bad.  But we know the Lord will help us.  Matresses
are so high we can't afford them, so we're going to put matting mats on top of
our springs, fold a blanket, and put our sheets on, and that will not be as
hard as the native beds, which are just boards with a matress on top.  This
sounds hard, But is not a bad bed at all for this climate.

We feel like this is so much more civilized than we thought.  The Dutch do
things up very nicely.  The natives not so.
The climate here is considered the best in the Indies.  Good water.  Cool.
Lots of fish, bananas, coconuts, etc.

Morris says to tell you that the beach is so pretty.  We all went swimming
there, and I learned to swim a little.  We came across in a little sampan, and
there was another sampan there.  We played at tipping it over and having fun
in it.

I am trying to find pictures to enclose in this letter.  The boat goes early
in the morning.  And now we must go.

I will try to write every week, even if the boats do not go, so will number
this letter number one from Amboina.

We do so long to hear from home, and have had an airmail from the boys at the
store, But no other mail or news.  We would appreciate newspaper clippings of
anything very startling.

Our postage is very high.  About seven cents american money.  That is not so
good, as we write a lot of letters in a month.  We will try to get out a form
letter in a week or two.

Must go.  Loads of love to you all, and when your letters start coming, it
won't seem quite so lonesome.  We do not have much time to be lonely, however.

Greet the saints.

                                        Love from Edna.

End letter.

Next letter:

                                        april 27, 1938.

Dear Grandma and all,

Well, we have an address, at last!  How happy we are to be moved into a house
of our own!  We took the third one bwe bargained for, and it is proving just
what we needed.

Things are very high in Amboina to what they were in Makassar, and we've had
to just wait on the Lord, and trust Him to help us.

We gave them fifteen guilders, or about eight dollars, though, and I don't
think it cost them any more than that, except the bother of having us all
there, which they didn't seem to mind.  They surely have built a fine work
here in Ambon.  They have little church assemblies all around on the island,
and we go to them in a little tiny car, about like a motor-cycle with a box on
the back, and benches along each side.  It is fun, and the country is so
beautiful it doesn't seem real.

You will want to know about our house.  Well, the living room is big.  More
square than yours, and not quite so large, maybe, but we live mostly out on
the front porch, or verandah, which goes clear across the front of the house.
There is a red, brick-like tile throughout the whole front of the house.  In
fact, through the whole place.  Three bedrooms.  The girls have one, ralph and
I the other, floyd one, and then there's an immense room of a kind of a
verandah porch out back, and we have a table about twelve feet long out there
to eat on.  Brother Siloi gave it to us.  It has been beautiful at one time,
but the termites have eaten up quite a bit of it.  We need robert here with
his squirt gun to kill them.  Well, Geezer and Rod sleep in the other end of
this porch from where we eat.  The whole place is wide open, you know, kind of
like a Spanish hacienda.

Just can't seem to type today!

But Dad and Floyd are making cupboards, putting up shelves, etc., and we're
really beginning to get straightened out pretty well.

We have three babus, or servants, kind of loaned out to us from the pastor,
Siloi, who had eight at his place.  We feed them their rice and dried fish,
and give them about six or seven dollars a month to divide between them.  This
is as near as we can figure it out.  The boy's name is La-Di, which sounds
funny to us.  He is a mohammedan, but honest.  The two women are christians,
who go to our church.  One is Lucinda, the other Wilhelmina.  I call them
Willy and Lou.

To tell the truth, we can't call them much of anything as yet!  However we
learn some more Malay every day, and are surely glad we know as much of it as
we do.  We can ask for things, greet people, say good-bye, etc.

Our yard has twelve banana trees in it, three coconut palms, and a papaya, and
two other trees of native fruits they say are delicious.  We have to wait till
they're ripe to find out.

We put up screens on the bedroom windows, and surprised the natives, who have
never seen anybody do such a crazy thing as that!  Well, there are no
mosquitos or flies, gnats, etc., here, compared to anywhere at all we've ever
lived in California.  I cannot understand this, unless there might be more
some other time of year, or maybe their bites are more malarial, or something.
We'd never think of having screens in a house if there were no more insects
than this, but perhaps we'll learn more later.  Of course New Guinea is
different.

We have city water to drink, and everyone here uses it without boiling.
However floyd thinks we should boil ours.

We can buy almost anything at all, and find out that sugar is cheaper than in
the United States.  Flour is much higher.  No butter that we like, so we use
Oleo, which is about the price of Crisco at home.  I guess it's cheaper, come
to think of it.  Bananas are five cents for about two dozen.  Fish is very
cheap, and so is chicken.  We have fried chicken all the time.  Some kinds of
green vegetables are cheap, and yesterday we had a regular United States
salad--cucombers, tomatoes, onions, and bunch lettuce.  They make wonderful
french dressing, and grate up the boiled eggs in it some way.  It tastes just
like home.

We do not feel that this is real missionary work here, though God has moved
wonderfully since we came to Amboina.  Floyd held revival meetings a week
straight through for Brother Siloi, and about five or six were saved, and
twelve received the baptism.

The wealthy Chinese have been most kind to invite us to their homes.  They
make wonderful Christians when sold out to God.

We could have electricity, but are not having it turned on, as it is very
weak, and expensive too.

This town is much more civilized than we supposed.  God will probably allow us
to have this for our base, then work into New Guinea from here.

All our goods came through in fine shape.  Nothing broken but a little ten
cent pitcher.  My pottery is just beautiful, and there is none here like it.
Even my big pitcher and chop plate came through okay.

Our little oil stove is good.

The bicycles are not only handy, but absolutely necessary here, and the only
means of transportation.  The Dutch people all have one apiece.  The whole
family goes riding an hour or two as the sun goes down.

Shirley and I were invited out at ten in the morning--everyone sleeps in the
afternoon--to visit a Dutch girl who is married to a Chinese man.  We went on
the bicycles.  She speaks very good English, and is not saved, so we invited
her to come to church with her husband, who is saved, and she said she would.
We will pray for her.

I do not remember whether I wrote you about the native Papuan who came to
brother Siloi's and gave his heart to the Lord.  Anyhow, the Lord gave us one
the first week here, and we do feel so encouraged in the Lord, and I know when
we're able to preach in the language, we can evangelize to a great good right
here in Ambon.

The Salvation Army man and his wife and daughter who are here have spent
twenty-eight years in the Indies, and are wonderful christian people.  We will
go to their meetings too.  The Protestant church, which is Dutch State, is
very worldly, lukewarm, etc., but a Bickmy Moodyite is coming this way to
revive it.  He is death on Pentecost, I hear, but we are trusting in God.

Many flowers here are the same you have.  Bougainville is everywhere.  The one
Chinese home where they entertained us reminded us of a hollywood garden.
About half an acre in lawn, open in the center, with shade trees at the edges,
the big house opening on every side onto the lawn.

All our laundry, dishes, etc., are washed in cold water.  I don't see how they
ever get them clean.

Our bath-house has a big cement bin that holds about as much as your bath-tub
if filled to the brim.  That is kept full all the time by the servants.  Then
there is a bucket or can in the place.  You undress, and stand by the side of
the water trough, and dip the water out, and pour it over you.  The floor is
tile, and the water runs out a little drain spout.

If we just had a hose, we could hose out our whole house, and not have to
sweep.

I don't think we'll ever work again!  the babus do everything, and you just
sit and sit, and wait for the meetings.  However we'll be studying Malay,
visiting the sick, helping in all the meetings, etc., and it's a good thing we
have some time for the Lord.

The other night, when part of us were still at Siloi's, Rod and Bee and Morris
were all here alone in the new house, so they had a prayer meeting, and Rod
and Thalia both had an infilling in the Holy Spirit, and they were all happy
in the Lord when we saw them the next morning.

The weather is about like summer in your country, only a bit more humid.
Something like Bakersfield, only not so hot.  The evenings are cool, and we
have to have a thin cover at night.

Our clothes are not only the right kind for this country, but we have just
barely enough of them, because they have to be washed so much.

Now I will try to get the additions for our mailing list written down for
Florence, and I think perhaps we can mail just as cheap right from here.  If
we can, we will do so, as people always like the foreign stamps, and to feel
like the news is right from the firing line.

May the Lord bless and keep you each and all, and keep on praying for us.

Lots of love to you all,

                                        Edna.

end letter.

Comment about April, 1938:

When I (Joe Devin) was with her in late 1979, Edna added this post-script
to the above letter:

"When we had been in our new home for the first few days everything went fine,
but our first message from the united states told of the death of my
step-father.  This came as a telegram, and simply said, "Papa died May 3rd."
And of course it will take weeks for us to receive a letter telling of how he
went home.  But as I prayed, the Lord gave me a wonderful reassurance in him
by giving me the scripture verse, 'The Lord knoweth them that are His.'  And
the first letter I wrote home was May 19th, 1938."

End comment.

Next letter:

                                        May 19, 1938.

Dear ones at home,

We are sad indeed as we have to write the first letter since Dad went home,
and by the time this ever reaches you it will be weeks later, and you will be
over the first keen pangs of parting.

I was not feeling so good, and was lying down when the wire came, about eleven
Sunday morning, ma fifteenth.  The children all yelled, "Telegram!  Telegram!"
and Ralph took it.  I heard the children say, "Don't tell Mama, she's sick!"
And while it was sweet of them to think of me, yet I had already overheard the
sad news, and we all wept together, as we all loved Grandpa so much.

He will always be missed, but we are thankful his earthly trials and
sufferings are over, and we are assured he is in our heavenly home, where he
is safe at last with Jesus!  I felt such peace in my soul as the Lord woke me
up saying, "The Lord knoweth them that are His." (2 Timothy 2:19).

When you wrote last winter about Grandpa's sickness, and his desire to serve
God, the children were all so happy, and kept telling people, "Grandpa got
saved!"  Ralph and I were sure the Lord was first in his heart, though the
outward man did not seem to change so much.  We are assured of his salvation,
and know he is in Glory with our other loved ones.  "The Lord knoweth them
that are His."

We suppose he died Friday or Saturday, March 14th or 15th, and was buried
Monday afternoon.  We prayed much for all of you, and dear little Ebby and
Cherry-Lee, and the Lake County ones.  I had just written Ginger, but will
write again.  I will not be surprised if she took Mother home with her.  So
many things we wonder about, but we just trust the Lord, and we'll be patient
until we hear.

Shirley has had a bad cold, but is much better today.  The others are in
school after three days vacation.  We are studying Malay.  I am much better in
my own body than I have been in the United States, and really feel good here.
Thalia is plump.  She's almost as big as Shirley.  Teedle and Roderick learn
the Dutch so fast, and can read some already.

Mother, it is hard to think of you so far away, and all alone, and how we
would have loved having you live with us for awhile if we were in the United
States.  I have almost wished Shirley was with you.  Yet we feel we have
obeyed God in being here at this time.

It is very cool here for the tropics now, but rains all the time, and they say
July and August will be even cooler.  We often put the wool blankets over us
at night.  December and January are the hot months.

Ralph grasps the Malay very readily, and follows our babus around all day
trying it out on them.

Florence, it was so sweet of you to send us the wire, and it must have cost a
lot.  I am sorry for you girls to have all the cares and burdens, and us not
be there to share them, but I know there is a blessing in it we will miss,
also.  I thought, "of any two words in all the dictionary, you chose the two
best to express everything."

We so hope Mother bears up, and that you all get a good rest after sorrow and
sadness.  I could not think of home with Dad gone.  I can't hardly yet.  And
of all of us, he will be missed the very most.  But how nice to just remember
how he always gave and gave to all of us the very best he knew how, and was
always so loved by everybody.  The children all feel very bad to think they
will not see him again on this earth.  To us older ones, Heaven seems closer,
and we know we will soon be over there too.

Right now, don't read this aloud, if that place on Mama's chest is not well,
or if it fills up again, please don't neglect it, but have a good docter take
care of it, as the sack should be removed.  Then it can't fill that way again.
I have meant to write this for a long time, but forget.

Poor Ginger will feel so bad.  I am sorry for them.

The day of May 15th, Saturday, I had such a burden to pray, and it seemed to
be for Ginger and elbert and the children, and John W.

We would love some snapshots of Mother and Dad, and also the rest of you, as
we can keep them here in Ambon okay.  But our albums are all stored in
Seattle, as we supposed we could not keep them here.

We supposed vint had just gone to lakeport, then came right back again, ha?

Another Papuan came to our meetings, but has not been converted yet.

We expect to go to another island nearby, and preach for two or three days,
either this week or next.  Mrs. Siloi will oversee things while we are away.

I just met a Dutch couple, the little boy two years, who have lived in New
Guinea.  Certain parts are fairly habitable, I guess.  We will need Brother
Lennon to help us fight Rome in New Guinea, as they got there first, but we
seem to be here just as the government is opening it up, and we are sure it is
God's time.  We will probably go up the Digul river in New Guinea.

Florence, you and Bob ought to be able, I mean smart enough, to find a radio
ham short wave amateur who would contact Ambon, and get a message through to
us every now and then.  If we had only brought our radio!  Now that the
Chinese pay for our electricity, we could get the United States every now and
then, also Australia.

Please clip us some news items, such as war, election news, etc., of the
United States and world importance, say once a month or so, or else give this
commission to some saint who would like to do it, as we have had no world news
since we arrived.

Ralph's three lovely new suits, light cream color, all cost less than fifteen
dollars--about four-fifty apiece.  It does not seem possible.  In seattle they
wanted twenty-five dollars just for the tailoring.

Well, the pets keep arriving.  Floyd is making a dove cote for our two pretty
white pigeons, and our black duck lays eggs.  So does our hen.  And Jacob
struts around as manager.  Last evening a little half Dutch and half Hungarian
girl named lilly brought her white cockatoo over, and he is also Jacob, and
calls his own name, but does not speak English.

Ralph has an English Sunday-school class in Elim Tabernacle, brother siloi's
church, and he invited a man who came.  The lesson went into the subject of
Mohammedanism, and then Ralph learned the man was a mohammedan, and yet he
took no offence, and said he'd come back again.

A friend who's coming to visit this morning is a full-blooded Dutch woman
married to a pure Chinese man.  Their children are lovely, well-mannered,
well-educated, butlook Chinese altogether.  they are christians.  The mother
and eldest daughter speak English.  Now they are not low enough to associate
with real Ambonese, nor high enough to mix with the Dutch, but with us
Americans it is different.  All the mixtures mix with us.  Also the Dutch.
Whether they would socially or not, I don't know or care, but we think how
wonderful it is that from the least to the greatest we can befriend them all.

The only dentist in Ambon is a Dutch woman of high degree.  Very refined.
Ralph had a filling, and left a paper by mistake, which she returned
personally, and visited us awhile.

We are kept very busy, but our letter-writing is caught up somewhat now.
Florence, we think we can mail our bulletins here just as cheap as to send to
you, so we'll probably put out some soon.

May the God of all comfort pour out his love and blessing upon you.  And do
write often, as we just long to hear, even a few words, from home.

Love from us each and all,

                                        Edna.

End letter.

Next letter:

                                        May 24, 1938.

Dear Mother and all,

You must be very lonely with dear old Dad gone.  Even we are lonesome for him,
though we're so far away.

We are all well, though Shirley's cold was a bad one, and I worried over her.
But the Lord has touched her body, and she is much better.

The little dutchers are getting put up into their proper classes in school.

We have had lovely cool weather, and sleep so good at night that we get rested
up.

Last night Floyd and Ralph went to amahusu to hold a meeting, and the Devil
was pretty mad, and they threatened them, and threw rocks at them, and one man
wanted to fight Floyd.  But the Lord wonderfully protected them.  They came
home rejoicing in Him, knowing He must be doing great things, or the enemy
would not be so stirred.

When we had the wake at our house last Friday, I sang in the Malay, "What a
friend we have in Jesus," as I had done previously in the country at a
meeting.  The power fell as I sang, and many of the unsaved stood weeping.  We
counted over sixty-five unsaved in our yard, and there were about two hundred
more in the street who heard the word preached forth.  They are much moved,
and we know God will save many of these Mohammedans.  The one who came to
Ralph's class at Sunday school was back again, so hungry to know the truth.
Floyd lent him a bible.  We hope he gets saved.

Sunday we ate with the Chinese women, who dressed us up for the enclosed
photo.  they seem to love us, and are so jolly, and remind us the most of
Americans of any of the mixtures around here.

There are no white people in the three hundred at Pinkster Kirk.  The Dutch
seem to think Pentecost is only for the natives.  But we are praying that God
will move on some of them, and save them.

So far, God has given us to mix with all classes, kinds, colors, etc.  We had
three or four different classes all sitting together in our front room
yesterday, and they seemed to get along okay.

We had one guest who is a deformed little fellow, something like carl
brandenburg used to be, only smaller.  His head is normal, and he knows
several languages, including English, which he enjoyed speaking to us very
much.  Floyd's little school-teacher brought him to visit us.  He told us a
lot about new guinea.  He says the natives powder up the ocean shells into a
fine talk, and if they come out and throw that on you, that means they are
hostile to you, and will not be friends.  If they see you have anything they
want, like a knife, gun, or such like, they will maneuver around for weeks,
and entertain you, etc., until they can get the chance to steal it from you.
However we know God wants to save them, so we're praying we get our permits,
and can go.

I am feeling fine, and getting fat on this native grub.  Thalia just eats it
like a little pig, and fattens right up on it.  The boys, too, have the most
meat on them they've ever had.  But they run a lot of it off.  They are just
as busy here as they were in america.

We decorated our front room somewhat with pictures from Sunday-school rolls,
and some more of American scenes, and the people here enjoy them a lot.  Also,
Brother Floyd lent us two pretty pieces of batik to put up as wall hangings,
and they help.

Floyd reminds me so much of orland, and I guess all old batches have about the
same nature the world over.

We can hardly wait till Friday of this week, when more letters should come
from home.  We only get American mail once in two weeks.  It is a long time to
wait, and we have no news at all, except the boys learned last night about the
trouble between Poland and Germany.

I wrote to Ginger too, but can't seem to think of much news to write today.

Our Malay studying is not so easy for me as for Ralph.  His Devin brain grasps
it, and he goes right ahead talking it to his little babu, and has learned it
the fastest of all except Rod.  Rod can speel off whole sentences already, but
I have to puzzle out what they mean.  We only catch a part of what they
preach, and our first weeks have been mostly just sitting patiently, not
knowing a thing that goes on around us.

Shirley is waiting to go to the post office with this letter, so I will close.
We hope you are all well, and we long to comfort you at this trying time, but
we will have to leave you all with Jesus.

Loads of love,

                                        edna.

End letter.

Next letter:

                                        May 29, 1938.

Dear Mother and Florence,

We got a letter from each of you on this last boat.  That is, Florence's
report, and the copy of letter to Regina.  It was addressed by Dad, and it
seemed hard to realize he is already in Glory.  We still feel very bad to
think we did not see him anymore, but it seemed to be God's will.

The money order did not come yet, but they are always later than a letter, as
it takes the time to New York and back to the coast again.  We do not need it
urgently as yet, but from the reports from Seattle, we will probably not have
any income from that source to speak of, as Dave Hunting got Mike Downs to
agree that if there is no profit to the biz we get nothing.  But if they make
a profit, we get our share.  Of course in a way this is okay, and we know it
is of the Lord if we have to rely solely upon Him.  I am sure He wants us to.

Now Mr. Hamel, of the Protestant Dutch church called on us.  He has charge of
all the New Guinea territory, and wants us to hurry on into the field so the
Roman Catholics will not get in.  It was considered almost beyond belief that
a man of his standing would call upon us, so we praised God, and thanked him
for moving upon this man's heart.  He is inviting missionary alliance in the
same way, as they have no finances to send workers of their own in.  They
consider it takes five thousand dollars a year for the territory they would
like us to take over.  There is no food to speak of in New Guinea, and
everything is very high.  We are just waiting on the Lord to show us what to
do.  Mr. Hamel is a Moody graduate of 1919, I believe, and also a graduate of
Drew Seminary, which is Presbyterian, and one other big Presbyterian school in
the East somewhere.  He has been in the Indies ever since, but still speaks
English very fluently.  However he said his years in the united states gave
him a little different slant on things from the ordinary domini of his
denomination.  He says a friend of his is coming six months from now to hold
revival meetings with him, and he wants to see a real revival in Ambon.  Well,
we wanted to also, and I'm afraid he's going to be about six months behind the
times, the way God keeps moving.  Praise the Lord!

Thursday was Ascension Day, and even Pinkster Kirk celebrated by having two
water baptismal services.  They make a lot of all church holidays here.  In
the morning, Ralph and I and brother Siloi went up toward Suli, to the farm
where God moved so mightily that other day, and they baptised in the river.
Ralph's first time for officiating.  I tried to get pictures, but it was too
dark.  It was a wonderful service, and the power of God was manifest in a
remarkable way.  One precious man was so happy after a long life of sadness
and sorrow.  The annointing remained on him, and he could not help speaking in
tongues.  We understood he got his baptism as he came up out of the water, but
he may have had it.  Our interpreter, Browney, was not there, so we cannot be
sure.  However we do know that the Lord wonderfully blessed.

 On the same evening, in the church, which was simply packed full, Ralph and
Brother Siloi baptised several more.  And think of our joy when the little
Papuan, who had been saved the first week we were here, came to be baptised.
We were so happy we could hardly believe it possible.  The power of God fell
until we could not take communion for about an hour, everyone was praising so
loud.  As we took communion, brother Floyd went under the power, and rolled on
the floor, and then gave a long message in tongues which brother Siloi
interpreted.  This was the first time Floyd had ever had a message.  Oh, what
a time we had, the shakaina glory dwelling in our midst!

Then Friday night, the wake on our front porch was beyond any we've had so
far.  There were about two hundred in our yard of the unsaved who listened to
the word.  Many were Mohammedans.  And the street was so full, traffic could
not pass.  People are so hungry that a whole multitude gathers and presses,
just like they used to when the Lord was on earth.  They listen so eagerly,
and keep coming back again.  We do pray God to save many of them!

This afternoon Ralph and Floyd and Shirley have gone to a funeral.  I was
supposed to go, but was sound asleep, as we're supposed also to take siesta
here, just like they do in Mexico, from two to four.  I will not know what
kind of funerals they have until the boys get back.

It is almost miraculous how Ralph learns the Malay.  He can already, in less
than six weeks, carry on a conversation enough to get by.  Roderick too can
talk a lot of it.  But the rest of us seem to be a little dumber, or else we
don't get to study as hard.

Shirley had a bad cold, but is much better, and seems like herself again.  I
was worried over her cough.  Ralph's head bothered him for a long time after
his fall, but is perfectly well again.

We are all fine, and the rainy season continues and is cool.  They say it will
last through september, but that it will be unbearably hot after that.

Mr. Hamel will help us get to New Guinea any time on a government boat very
reasonably.  They go clear up the Digul river to Tanah-Merah, which is not
shown on most maps, as it is a new Dutch project.  Rome is already in this
field, so pray for us.  The Adventists plan on going in also.  We are surely
in the Lord's time, as the governor is just opening up New Guinea, and we are
putting in better fortifications, anda big air base here at Ambon.

We will have airmail service after January, 1939.

Ralph's learning the Malay is just like the Devins for brain power, ha?  He
just studies it, and then knows it.  And as long as he knows it, he just tries
it out on anybody at all, and sees how it works.  So far, he's not made any
very bad mistakes.  Floyd is not much good as a teacher, now that we have the
hang of it.  It just takes study, and plenty of it.  We understand the gist of
preaching, a conversation, etc.  Now that helps a lot.  Florence and Thalia
talk the Dutch, but I do not know how good.

The Chinese just love Thalia, and beg for her to stay all night every week.
She likes them too, as they are so jolly.  And so, away she went last night,
and stayed with them again.  They had us all for dinner again today.  It was
very good, and I enjoyed it.  They keep us supplied with food until we don't
hardly have to buy any except some plain staples.  It is wonderful how the
Lord has supplied us that way.

Today I passed by a big bunch of Mohammedans working on a cart, and one said,
in perfect English, "I hear they speak English."

I smiled, and said, "Surely."

It pleased them almost to pieces, and their white teeth glistened.  As far as
I could see they were smiling and laughing.

We keep learning a little more all the time about this island.  There are
sixty thousand inhabitants.  Two hundred whites.  Fifteen thousand people in
Amboina, and the rest in little native villages over the island.

Yesterday we walked up to the spring on the mountainside three miles to where
the city water supply comes from.  It is all cemented over, and surely must be
as pure as water can be, but they seem to chlorinate it besides, and everyone
says its perfectly safe to drink.  Well, there's a big cement pool where the
overflow drains. Clear sparkling water.  And by getting the key, the white
people may swim in there.  So Ralph and I had a good swim.  Floyd and the
children had already been up there.  You just don't have any idea how
beautiful this walk up the mountain is!  the river flows about a hundred feet
below all the way.  Just a gushing mountain torrent over rocks and boulders,
like any mountain stream at home.  Then palms, bananas, and dozens of other
kinds of trees grow up the mountain sides.  Everything so green, so green.
Then ferns everywhere, and trailing vines that hang from the trees.  Also
orchids blooming in the little niches on the palm trees, where the old leaves
have been broken off.  It was just too beautiful for words!  you can look down
all over Ambon bay, and off to the mountains on the other side of the bay,
which are much higher than where we were.  But after we'd gone that far, we
could still see native houses farther on up the mountainside.  People can grow
enough food to exist almost anywhere here, though the soil is about like
monrovia, just volcanic gravel of about as much quality.  I don't know what
they fertilize it with.  This trail we went up is a government trail, and is
very fine.  We rode our bikes most all the way down, but had to walk up.
Ralph didn't, but he rides better than I.

Our front room is all fixed up now.  Brother Floyd lent us two sarongs which
he had put away, and we hung them on the walls for wall hangings, and then we
took some of his picture rolls, and cut out suitable pictures, and put up.  He
had one real ugly Catholic picture of Christ which the saints gave him for a
love present at Terakan, so we took the picture out, and put one in the frame
of Christ stilling the waves, and the disciples in the boat.  Everyone looks
at it who comes in, it is so pretty.  The others are jungle scenes, and might
have been taken almost anywhere at all in Amboina.  People wonder how we had
such pictures in America.  So do I.  Another large one is of Christ and the
woman at the well.  Then we have some smaller pictures which are real
American.

Our place is cozy and comfortable enough, though to get a real rest we have to
go to bed, as we cannot afford rattan furniture like we would like.  They have
a kind of reclining chairs and a table to match; but a set like this would
cost about thirty to forty dollars, and we may go to New Guinea before we need
it.

Monday afternoon:

I have to finish this up, as the boat leaves in the morning.  It comes from
New Guinea en-route to Java, and if they do not have any heavy loading or
unloading, sometimes it does not stay in port long.

Our meeting last night in the church did not seem so good, but the
after-service seemed most profitable, as a man who just came into Pentecost
almost got his baptism, and two Dutchmen, who have come in several times
before to kind of look on and make fun, came in and sat down.  The Lord spoke
to them, and they were very polite to me as they left.  We feel like God is
going to save one or both of them.

Rod went to a native funeral with Shirley, Dad, Floyd, and Brother Siloi
yesterday afternoon, but I was asleep, so they let me take my rest, and I
missed out on it.  I wish you could have read the letter Rod wrote one of his
boy pals at home describing the funeral!  that wasn't enough.  He drew a
picture of it!  well, rod draws so wonderfully that I wish there was an artist
here who could help him with it.  He just seems to come by it naturally.  All
lines, figures, landscapes, still-life, etc.  I hope he can develop it
sometime.  He testified in the meeting saturday night, and when he's
spiritual, he surely does make a good showing for the Lord.  But most of the
time he's too busy.

I wonder how you will be managing, Mother?  I suppose Florence and Robert will
stay with you as long as possible, or else that you went home with Ginger for
awhile.  I realize how lost you will be for some time to come, and I should
think you'd like to take a nice Pentecostal family in with you, and you just
keep a room or two, and let them board you, or some kind of an arrangement
like that.  Maybe you will stay with Florence in L.A.  The only two places
that ever seem like home since we sailed are Grandma's house and Seahurst Park
house.  We suppose the old house at Seahurst will be just about right for poor
old missionaries, if the Lord tarries, and we ever come back.  I know Dad had
been a great care to you, too, these last few years, and you must have a good
rest when you get over missing him so much.  We just can't realize yet that
Dad is gone.  But I always feel so good about him since the Lord gave me that
scripture, and I know he and Uncle Mit and Grandma Prat and all the others
must be having a wonderful time enjoying salvation together until we come.

We got such a dear letter from friends this time.  And so many!  it seems it
keeps us busy between boats just answering letters.  Emma Washburn keeps on
writing to me from Calestoga.  I told her to let me know if Carols still ran
the Calestoga Inn, and would want to publish missionary news from Amboina or
New Guinea.  The secretary for the Pentecostal mission in Calestoga is
Florence Clark, who is a relative of Reir Clark.  Do you know who that is?
She writes me also.

It is lovely and cool the last few days, and we surely are thankful when we do
not have to sweat.  Of course, if we did anything very strenuous, we'd sweat a
lot right now; but just studying, typing, etc., we don't.  The children have
gone to swim again this afternoon, three miles up the mountain.  I just fried
two lovely chickens, which cost about twenty cents American apiece.

We do like fried chicken, and it's so cheap.  Two make us a good meal, and we
always have two vegetables, bread, and gravey with it.

There is such a sweet fruit that tastes just like ice cream.  The name is
suersack.  It is a great big green thing with prickles all over the outside.
Otherwise about like an avocado, only easily four times as big.  You peel off
the outside skin, which is thick, and the inside looks about like a raw
turnip, but is soft and squashy.  There is a pithy center about the size of a
banana in the middle, which you throw out.  Then you squash this white part
all up and get a lot of black seeds out.  It reminds us the most of cotten
with seeds in it for looks, of anything else.  You put a little sugar and ice
with it, and eat it with a spoon, like ice cream.  Our babu, Wilhelmina, puts
chocolate and canned milk with it too, and sometimes it is extra delicious.

There is another fruit about twice the size of avocados, and looks just like
an avocado.  You peel it, and the inside is like a peach, only it has a little
different flavour.

Everything is so spicy, since we live in the Spice Islands.  Nutmegs grow
wild, though they are getting scarcer all the time on account of their
commercial value.

Durian is the thing you have to hold your nose to eat, and to me it tastes
just like raw onions and bananas mixed, and I don't like it a little bit; but
Floyd is used to them now, and loves them.  They stink like manure, and you
can't have one near you in the house without smelling it all over.

They grow what they call "jerut Bali," and anything "jerut," pronounced
"geroot," is citrus.  "Jerut asin" is lemon.  "Jerut Java" is orange.  Well,
jerut Bali is about the size of your head, and the peeling is so thick I can't
hardly manage it; but the inside is just like a grapefruit, only pink, and
much sweeter than grapefruit.  They say that America won't let them import
them, as it would kill the grapefruit industry.  They grow lots of them here.

But lemons here are very small and acid.  Not good at all.

And we haven't seen an orange since we came.  They are imported from Java, and
very high.

We can buy some kinds of squash here, and some of it is very tastey.

The Chinese eat much hot pepper, just like the Mexicans do.  They fix up their
rice with it.  Some of their dishes are very delicious, however.  The ones we
know best are fine cooks, and the women bake bread and cookies to sell.  It
seems no matter how wealthy a Chinese is, they're always earning money.  They
seem to be very rich, yet they bake for the Dutch people, earning money.

Well, I must get my snooze this afternoon, as I have to go to a vandussy with
the Chinese women at five.  That is an auction.  I hope they buy me a nice
rattan set for my front room!  We have not been to an auction yet, and that is
why we are going, as well as to please our friends.  They are coming
wednesday, at nine, to put me up some curtains.  All I hope is that they do
not shut off the breeze and air, as we could not stand it like they do.

Ralph says he wants to read this before I shut it up.  I guess I sent you
pictures of us in native costume with the Chinese ladies.  I can't remember
now.

Much love to you each and all,

                                        Edna.

P.S. We got your letters you sent to Japan.  They came on to Ambon.

End letter.

An excerpt from the letter of june 20, 1938:

I cannot remember whether Ralph had been to see the Resident when I last wrote
or not, but God has given us such favour with the government officials here
that we have permission to go anywhere at all in the Moluccas.  This group of
islands has a thousand islands in it, New Guinea included, and many of them
are very large, and thousands upon thousands of souls await the gospel.  The
Protestant church has touched the shoreline, but interiors have never been
penetrated, and thousands have never heard.  We pray much for God to guide us.
Let us move in His will.  But there is so much to be done!  We could send out
fifty workers this morning if we had them and the finance.  It does not take
much except consecration.  The native workers can live on five to eight
dollars a month.  But we find no sense whatever among the Pentecostal people
here of consecration or evangelization.  Perhaps God will have to send us help
from America and England and Australia.  Well, we know He is able.  We are
laying before the Lord at present should we organize here in the Moluccas and
have a separate work from that in Java?  Should we send out native workers or
white?  Should we try to have a bible school in Amboina?  The need is so
great!  the labourers so few!  you ask prayer that we shall move in God's
will, please.

Love from edna.

End excerpt.

From: "Beth Marsau" <nwbsbeth@cnw.com>
To: "'Shirley Tinsman'" <sdtinsman@webtv.net>,
Date: Tue, 6 Jun 2006 13:58:10 -0700
Subject: Letter from Edna Devin  to Eunice, Bertha and All

At the time this letter was written, Bertha was pregnant with Chuck and
Roderick had just left home at age 24.  "Joe-Joe" was four.

(letterhead):

Assemblies of God in the East Indies
R. M. Devin, Chairman
R.A. Busby, Vice Chairman
E.M. Devin, Secy.Treas.

Temporary Headquarters
AMBON NETHERLANDS EAST INDIES

June 28, 1948

My Dear Eunice, Bertha and All:-

We were very glad of your long newsy letter. Were we ever surpised to hear
we are going to be "Great-unclized and Great-auntized" again.  More power
to
the young folk who ar raising the family. How I wish we could see them
before thy are grown up. Possibly we'll be having a furlough again in a
couple of years or so.  I suppose we'll be hearing whether the new baby is
another boy, just anytime now.  It would be a surprise to get a girl,
wouldn't it? But one of our friends ni Porland has just such a family and
they are really a grand bunch of youngsters. Her first three are close
together, though, and and the little girl usually is around the house with
Pauline most of the time while the boys are off on their work or fun.

How fine your operations were successful, Eunice.  I am so glad you feel
better. So do I. I stayed on Ternate over two months with Thalia and
enjoyed
the change so very much. It did me worlds of good after my malaria.  The
worst thing was coming home again. This vast house has only Joe-Joe and me
in it at present. Rod left for U.S.A. again, but so far has only gotten as
far as Java, where I guess he was robbed or lost all his money and his
passport to boot. We have not had anythig but a wire to stop payment on two
checks which Dad had given him for $25 each.  This we did.  Ray Busby, the
other missionary in Batavia, wrote us Rod came in for an hour or so and
said
he had lost everything.  His cable was from an inland town.  I wish he'd at
least write us a letter.  I felt too dreadful for words when he left us,
didn't seem to know why I took it so much harder his leaving than Morris or
Florence.  I just supposed it was because of his temperment being different
from the other children and his noise and the racket left such a silence it
was deadly.  Dad took his leaving hard, too, but he ran away and left me
here all by myself, with just Chaumont.  Dad had to go to Meando and the
U.S. War graves ship was leaving and would take him free so away he went
only about four days after Rod left.  Well, I just couldn't hardly get
adjusted or "come to" or "come out of it" or whatever until a few days ago
I
began to get a grip on things again; then this news of Rod's misfortune
came. His ship left the 17th for Holland.  Poor boy.  I told him before he
left that if I wer he  I would try Grandma's old idea of putting all my
real
valuables in a little sack and pining it right next to my hide with safety
pins. He just poohed the idea.  But I knew how bad the robbers are in Java
and also in Europe and he is so careless abouthis things. Rod has fine
qualities, but his ungovernable temper just flares at this and that and
ruins his life, which at present is not yielded to the Lord. When he gives
up everything to the Lord he is like a different person.  I suppose we'll
be
hearing he's back in the Navy again.  He was not satisfied here, though he
did such hard work and did it super, too.  Whatever he does he goes at it
like dynamite and stays right with it until it's finished.  Well, enough of
the"black shee" of the Ralph Devin family.

It has rained and poured until I actually prayed for some sunshine and got
it immediately.  Today was lovely and I spent several hours in the garden
spading and just being outside. I hav three parrorts, a dog and a cat for
company besides Chaumont, but even then I am lonely. But tomorrow Shirl and
John are coming to stay over night. I put of baking my four loaves until
tomorrow and Joe-Joe and I ate hot cakes today. I will make a few cinnamon
rolls with my last Christmas raisins and walnuts for John. Some people in
Oregon canned shell nut-meats and sent, also raisins and prunes. Oh, but
they've  been a treat.  Now we'll have to wait until next Christmas again,
I'm afraid. We ordered our Christmas candy (for S. School 400 to 500 bags
this year)  from Imperial Seattle, already. Last year we did not order
until
Aug. and it barely got here, so though we'd do better this year.

We have not heard from Robert and Shirley for ages, and we owe Shirley a
letter but have never had their address.  We often pray for them and the
fine work they are doing and please do tell them to send us a 10 cent air
letter so we can get track of them again. We'd love to get their bulletin,
too.  They could send it regular mail and it would seem nice and newsy to
us
anyhow.

Well, I can't write more than this page or it won't go airmail for my 80
cents so I'd better tell you what a nice little Grandson I have. He's fat
as
butter and eats a whole tin of Gerbers at a sitting, fresh banana and
papaya
(without wich he just won't do nothing at all) and lots of mama's nice
soe-soe.  Shirl seems to be just like I always was about nursing him plenty
of good dinners.  He is smal for 5 months, but healthy as can be. Nothing
special or unusual about him, though I'd never dare tell those proud young
parents that.  He sits in his high chair and jumper and of course we all
pet
him about to pieces. He's a very good baby anyhow. They talk about another
before they go back to U.S.A. on furlough, so watch out Bertha, or they'll
catch up to you.

Our work goes ahead despite many discouragements. Government rules are
strict in many places, now, to what they used to be.

We have Catholics for officials in many places, Mohammedans in others.  Our
young people are just being organized and so have a fine group.  I was far
from idle while with Thalia and the Parsons and Loving families. But gained
25 lbs. on the good food they have there.  I do not have my old trouble any
more and really feel fine now. Malaria lays you out and the recovery is not
too speedy unless you can take it easy like I did.  Ralph feels very well
at
present.  He is far too busy but maybe that's good for him.

We have some friends named Bowne (not Browne) wholive on Mercer Island.
Maybe Bertha's phone book would have them in it.  Call her up and tell her
we want to hear from her again sometime.  Audrey, the little girl was
Joe-Joe's playmate when we lived on Greenlake Way, but I lost track of them
when they moved.

I guess the new building going up across from Ralph's store will add to the
importance of our location a lot. Hilding does a good job of managing the
store. Call them up and get in touch with Morris who is in Seattle for the
summer. Get him to come over and visit you.  He's a grand person, so
different to what Rod is. Florence Ruth is in New York State for the
summer.
She says she lives with the wops.  Went home with a girl from school. The
father is Poites a greek, the mother Norweigan, but Teedle says she has no
use for her own kind. How's Bertha coming with Scandahoovians?  Do the boys
talk it yet?

Shirl and John have a cute new house all out of nothing. Dad and Rod built
it while I was away and I came home to find the scarlet runner beans
climbing up the front of it and the nasturtiums up and groing fine. We've
never had any luck with them before. They have great window areas with
sashes but no glass in them and the air jut goes wizzing through. It is so
cool and nice. In back of the church in Ambon.

The Cavaness family went to Batjaan to work, where Wetzels were before the
war. We stopped over 2 days there on our way back to Ambon. Dad will spend
a
week or so with Thalia then visit them; then come home. At least I hope he
won't forget he has a little bini (wife), down in Ambon.

Well, I must close and get to bed. Thanks so much for writing us, Eunice.
Give our love to All. Tell Rilla I often think of her. She is a rare sould,
always helping others.

Much love from
Edna

End message from Beth Marsau

From: "Beth Marsau" <nwbsbeth@cnw.com>
To: "'Chaumont Devin'" <devin@alohabroadband.com>
Date: Tue, 6 Jun 2006 16:34:53 -0700
Subject: RE: Letter from Edna Devin  to Eunice, Bertha and All

Hi Joe,

That was typed from the original letter your mother wrote to my
grandmother.
Bert is my aunt, the daughter of my grandmother and she was pregnant at the
time with her fourth boy.  She ended up with five boys, no girls.  She is
still alive, by the way, and so is Uncle Lloyd.  They are in their 90s.

...

End message from Beth.

From: "Beth Marsau" <nwbsbeth@cnw.com>
To: "'Chaumont Devin'" <devin@alohabroadband.com>
Date: Tue, 6 Jun 2006 16:42:19 -0700
Subject: Another letter from your mother

Hi Joe,

Here is another letter I just found typewritten from your mother to my
grandmother Eunice.  The paper is quite thin and the type is faint.  The
letter is  written on Halloween of 1947, and apparently Aunt Olive had just
recently died and Uncle Edgar and his wife were not well. Edgar, Olive,
Bernard, and Barker were the siblings of your father, Ralph.  "Shirley and
Bob" are in reference to my dad's brother Bob and his wife Shirley.  Bertha
is my dad's sister and Lloyd is her husband.   My mother ("Yum's wife") had
been ill with TB and in the sanitarium for 18 months.  My grandfather
Bernard had died the year before.  Eunice had apparently had an operation.
I don't know who "Big Joe" is that's referred to in the letter.  Rilla was
Eunice's sister and known to a lot of people as "Aunt Rilla".     Here
goes:

===============================
Ambon, N.E.I., October 31, 1947

My Dear Devins:

May this be sort of a Holiday letter to all of you, since I know only this
one address and already owe Shirley and Bob, Bertha & Lloyd, and now
Eunice,
letters.  We lost track of Bob and Shirley and hoped they would drop us a
line with their address on it as we love to hear from them, but I will try
to include you all in this then you may answer whenever you have time to
spare.

To hear of all the illness in your families is not cheering but we realize
you are probably all imroved exceedingly by now, since your letter is of
Sept. 13, Eunice.  We trust you came through your operation and are
improving constantly; also that Yum's wife is home with her bbaies by this
time. We do pray for all of you and entrust you to our Heavenly Father's
care. It is such a shame for that big Joe youngster to have silver pegs in
legs that have to go with him through life; however we hope and pray they
will cause him no further troule and it is wonderful he did not lose a
limb,
like so many soldiers did in the war.

Thanks for all the news, Eunice.  You will never now until stranded on your
own desert island what it means to get the sweet letters from home.  When
we
think of Lloyd and his lawn mowing of 14 miles or so, that's like a
missonary journey in itself, and I'd love to just lie and lie on the new
mown stretches under a fair sky and think up a poem or two. But it is a hot
summer ay here with a cool breeze and I have thousands of errands to run.

Ralph is still in Java and will be until almost Christmas time. Shirley and
John live at Kati-Kati across the bay 6 miles. I see them every week or
two.
She looks lovely since she is having a baby, and it seems to do all us
missionaries good. We are all perking up getting ready for the big event
and
the baby buggy (the only one on Ambon since the war) is on its way from
Sears, long about between Java and Makassar somewhere.  I have a Chinese
girl helper and she is a grand person. She helps me take care of Chaumont,
cook, and whatnot, besides interpreting from Malay to Chinese for me on
Wednesday evenings. We have had a real stir among the Chines since starting
these services and several have taken a stand for Christ. Thalia is away
about 300 miles north of here working with other missionaries on Ternate.
She is slightly on the other side of the equator, while we are 3-1/2% So.
of
it. she is a consecrated missionary, and a very beautiful one, and her work
is very blessed of God.  Florence and Morris are happy in their schools in
Srpingfield, Mo. Florence is studying in Bible School; Morris last year
High
and he has a wonderful time being "it" among all the Missouri "hicks." You
know, real Devin style ... I mean Ralph Devin style, of course!  We know
the
other branches of the family are different.  And perhaps this accounts for
members of our immediate family.

Roderick left out, I see.  He teaches Malay at Kati, cares for all the
machinery and runs things in gernarl while his father is away, but he is
far
from a missionary, and from the trend of current events I suppose it will
not be long now before he is in active service in World War III, though we
hate to think about it. He wants to go on and get his degree, Stanford in
mind, but I doubt if he'll ever go back to school again. He begged an
Admiral in D.C. for the privilege of going to N.E.I. as an  interpreter and
was turned down ... when he arrived in Batavia there sat the Admiral, who
began begging Rod to join his staff, nice promotions in the offing, but Rod
took a good laugh at him and came on over to Ambon. We think he will not
say
here long.

We were barely able to pay our income tax at the store last year and we
really don't see how she keeps afloat and yet she always does.  We rich
Devins are the poorest of all a lot of the time, though you relatives would
never suspect it.

Edgar and Alice Devin are both very low all the time, not expected to live
long. Mary writes us a few times a year. Your letter said nothing about
Olive's death. Could it be you have not head she died in Las Vegas in Aug.
or Sept. (I forget when) Barker arrived after she died, claimed her
personal
effects, car, etc., had her cremated and her ashes scattered on the desert
air. Quite Devinish!  Poor Olive, a rather sad end.  I know very few
details.  Ralph took it quite hard for a few days, not knowing whether she
ever accepted Christ or not.  We have prayed for her for many years and
must
leave that with the Lord.

I should love to see Bertha and her boys.  What a crop!  I mean the first
one.  Tell her to follow my example and may the second crop be girls!
 Every
mother should have a lot of them to care for her in her old age!  We
reallize Bert will never be old, but jus the same ... girls are lovely in
the home.

Our work here goes ahead very well.  We have many converts recently.  I
just
sent out our little paper which should reach you about the same time as
this. Perhaps after you read it you could send it on to Bob.

We get Fuller's broadcast from Manilla once in awhile.  But our electricity
is very weak and our radio is not too good.

When you dig out the chickens for Christmas dinner, ... out of the freezer,
I mean ... well, we're lliable to be eating one too, so don't feel to sorry
for us. The chicken suppoy increases here and yet we seldom get one to eat.
But we are preparing for Christmas and it looks like we might do all right
by then. Potatoes the size of eggs are about 80 cents U.S.A. per lb. We use
dehydrated most of the time. They are not quite so expensive.  Rice is our
main diet and so far we have plenty, but sugar is scarce and you should see
it full of ants, bugs, all sorts of dirt.

I hope this reaches you in time for a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New
Year, and God's riches blessings upon you all, and my love for Aunt Rilla.

Love from all us missionary Devins,

Yours, Edna

End Beth message.

1962

It must have been sometime in March or April of 1962, that
night the big four engined prop-driven American Overseas Airways
plane landed at the Honolulu International Airport with me aboard.
If I remember correctly it was raining, and they announced the temperature
as 72 degrees. That was still back before they had finished the
new airport. It was a Saturday night.
Everything was strange and wonderful to me that night. I was
struck with the scent of flowers in the air everywhere. The bustle
of gay-colored muumuus. The air was wonderful! I was tingling with
excitement. I had dreamed of islands so long!
I got a taxi into town with a businessman (and perhaps some others,
but he was the only one that I remember), and put up at the YMCA, the
new one, at the corner of Atkinson and Alamoana. They gave me a good
room on the fourth floor or so, and to me it seemed so strange to have
the window open and hear the rush of traffic below, and yet be bathed
in that lovely tropical air. A breeze was blowing, and my room was
designed just for this, with latticework on the door, just like that
of a cabin on a ship. There were coconut palms growin@ outside.
Somehow I went to sleep.

When I looked out in the morning a wonderful scene awaited me.
I looked out over the rooftops and saw the Punchbowl resplendant
in the dazzling greens and golds of a Hawaiian morning. The breeze
was still blowing.

After dressing and consulting the map, I set out in search of
the Assembly of God church on foot, and found it at 930 Lunalilo Ave.
It was a quanset style building with a church fromt and stone pillars
along the sides with panes of heavy glass in between. There were mango
trees growing in front. It was early when I walked up the steps and
I had to wait awhile. I don't renember just when, but some Japanese
young people came and sat on the steps with me and talked to me. There
was one little girl that was more talkative than the rest, and I
remember her especially! The smell of mangoes was wonderful to me,
and brought back old memories, like a scent long forgotten often will.
It was the same scent I smelled as a little boy in Australia, when I
used to play out under the Schwartz's hsg mango tree in Brisbane.
I met Vincent, the pastor, and he yet remembered the days of
my father, when he was here on the Evamgel. He took me home with his
family, and after dropping a big older woman off somewhere, we arrived
at his house, high on the eastern side of the Manoa valley. My heart
was thrilled with all the tropic green. So fresh and without the
traces of dust one finds on everything on the mainland (California).
Like an excellent summer day in the northlands. We had to wind on
and on through this green to get to his home.
From there we could see out over the whole of the Manoa valley
area. Spectacular scenery. The cliffs on the Tantalus side. Out over
Honolulu, or back up to where the falls are. He had a big plate-glass
window in the livingroom, and binoculars.

He had a wife and two daughters. The older one was rather heavily
built, and the younger was thin and frail looking. If I remember they
served us some sort of roast that day. Perhaps pork with pineapple.
We talked and talked in the afternoon, but it later seemed that I
wasn't too well received. His wife and daughter seemed to make fun
of his plans to get a boat and go to the Southsea islands with the
Gospel. At least they seemed to display smug smiles and make smug
comments. I didn't like that. I would have agreed to everything he
planned except that he intended to go in with medicine and doctors
as a fromt, and I couldn't buy that, as I believe in exposing the
Gospel or nothing, and also in divine healing.
He asked me why the Mohammedans had made such progress in Indonesia,
and I made a logical reply that I can't even remember now, but
I do remember his quoting it, in church, I believe.
They said that they go swimming once a week, and I said that I
would like to come along, supposing, of course, that they would be
glad for the company. They never said anything more about it. I can't
yet understand all the circumstances involved in their lives, but felt
that they couldn't quite trust me, a feeling I have never quite gotten
used to, since I was always completely trusted on moral matters by my
parents, and when I had lived in Ambon I could walk into just about
any store and charge whatever I wanted.
I also made the mistake of calling him "Vince," which I don't
think the family appreciated. I had never meant to be rude, but my
superiors had invariably insisted on calling them by their first
names wherever I had worked on the mainland. Perhaps things were
different in Hawaii.
At any rate I was never invited to partake of the Fincent's
hospitality again, anB what I had thought might have been the beginning
of a good friendship ended there. I must place this among the
regrets of my life, and feel certain that it must have been a good
deal from that age-old enemy of culture and friendship, misunderstanding.

I had supper with them again, and they drove me to the evening
service and then home.
I think it was next day, Monday, that I trie@ to climb one of
those steep green slopes I had seen. The slope I chose (somewhere
back up Manoa, I think) turned out to be an impossible tangle of that
type of vine-like fern with the stiff stems that we have in Ambon.
Try as I may, I found I could make but little or no progress upward
through this choking vegetation. I finally gave up, and instead of
descending on foot I just rolled down. Descending was so easy and so
much fun. down, down, down: such a soft bed of green!
One night or another I was wearing that s@a@@y white jacket-type
shirt with the low neck and the strip of dark embroidery ribbon running
down along the collar, - the one I thought was for $4.95 but turned
out to be for $14.95 instead, and I was too upset and embarrased to
turn down after I had brought it to the counter that day in that men's
shop in Lompoc, - when somehow or other I became acquainted with a
short, slight bald man named Frank Smith, who I had started talking
to on the way down on the automatic elevator.
For some reason or other he took a shine to me and treated me to
mahi@r@@@2$ku2@
(I can't really remember which but I think it was the
former) for dinner at some fancy place that evening. I think he took
me over the Pali that same night and showed me his little shop.
objects with a primitive flavour. He drove a pick-up. A Ford I think.
Our acquaintance grew and grew. He took me to the International
Market place and treated me to ice-cream. That was the night we talked
to that goodlooking girl that seemed to have some Island blood in her
who was selling aloha shirts. My eyes seemed to be failing me then
already, and I had to watch the way I walked so as not to show it.
We looked at that big canoe built by the Samoan with the lapstrakes,
stern and stem pieces sewn on with sennit cord.
We also went to that beautiful place out on the highway on the
windward side for dinner. The Balihai, I believe. We were served by
women attractively dressed in muumuus. Perhaps that was the day I
helped him some at his shop, and hanging that door on a goodown or
putting a hasp on it, or whatever it was we did. I just handed him
tools, etcetera, and held things.
We also had breakfast at Coco's, where Honolulu ends and Waikiki
begins. He never would let me pay for a thing.
All this time I had been looking for work, and he knew it. I had
applied at the employment service right away, of course, and it was
being arranged so that I could receive my unemployment benefits from
the State of California there, which I later did.
Frank's room was one of the better ones, on the fifth and highest
floor, I believe. I had been up and seen it.
In the afternoons I took advantage of the gym. I worked out with
the weights until I was sweaty, then went for a swim, and dove off
the board. I almost started taking judo.
Then one day (one night, I think), Frank said that he had a job
nish 100 @bnma backed armchairs for them.
I had no place to stay in Kailua, so at his suggestion I went
with him to the pastor of the local A. of G. to see if he might not
know something about what I needed. He was Rev. J. Meiers, and it later
turned out that I was to room and board at their home at 350 Maluniu
St. A house of the older Hawaiian type, build on stilts, and all of
wood with linoleum floors. Perhaps there was hardwood in the living
room, I don't remember. My room was adjoining the livingroom, across
from the steps and entrance. It was either $100 or $150 per month,
I don't remember. At any rate it was very cheap. I do remember that much.
I loved Kailua, and the east wind, and would go wandering down
to the beach with my guitar and look out to sea, and dream of time
imemorial, and the Indies. The wind was so strong that I sometimes
let it play my lonely guitar instead of strumming with my fingers.
The beach was so perfect there, and always more and more and more of
the east wind. I could see far out, the breakers curling over the reef. -

The following material was taken from my journal and heavily edited:

Monday, April 1, 1963.

I boarded the Wahiawa bus at Aala Park, in Honolulu.  I had with me my
guitar, a large pack, and also a small explosives pack, into which I
intended to put the foodstuffs that I would be purchasing in the town of
Makaha.

I was bound for Makua, and the time was probably about 1:00 P.M., Monday,
April 1st, 1963.

The Wahiawa bus was old, and the ride shakey, and I felt out of place
sitting there in a back side seat, telltale pack and guitar beside me.  I
had forgotten the locations of the different towns, and all the time I
kept wondering if Wahiawa was on the north side of the island or on the
way to Makua, on the south.  It seems I had confused Wahiawa with waipahu.

and so I sat, wondering, until the bus stopped and made a right turn which
didn't seem to fit in with my memory of the place.  I stood up and went to
the driver to ask, and he stopped the bus, and made vague gestures, and
indicated that Makaha was a different way.  I ran back and got my gear and
started walking.

I knew then that the way I wanted to go lay closer to the coast.  I walked
some miles, and passed the town of waipahu, and reaching the eva forks saw
people vending fruit, which brought back memories of the last time I went
to Makua.  That old oriental had seemed to say, "a quarter a dozen," and
when I payed, he said, "a dollar and a quarter a dozen."  then Makua, the
blazing sun, the thirst, and the corn was half eaten by worms.

About a hundred yards from the forks I was approaching an old man who
seemed to be waiting for something.  A car pulled up, and he got in.  I
thought that they were his friends, but they called, so I ran and piled
in, gear and all.  A cheap-looking woman was driving.  She had red hair,
and her hands were short and stubby.  Her nails were short, protruded from
wrinkled fingers, and were covered with red varnish.  She talked
incessantly about the most abominable profanities.  Beside her sat a man
who claimed to be an American Indian, and she said that he refused to
work.

We seemed to have reached Maile or Waianae, I still don't know which, and
that was as far as they were going, so thank you, and we really did
appreciate it, you know.

We stopped in front of a gas station, where I paused to get a drink.  The
old man walked on.  He was going to Makaha.  But I was soon up to him, and
he stopped me, and told me to wait, and his niece would be coming home
from the dentist.  We waited and talked for a good while, but she didn't
seem to be coming, so we'd better start walking.  So we walked for maybe a
mile, and then his niece pulled up, and we got in the back seat.  It was a
black two-door, but I don't know what make.

I felt uneasy sitting there because I knew how those Hawaiians hate and
suspect a "Haole," but it wasn't any time before we were in Makaha and I
got out.  I shook hands with the old man and thanked him and the girl.  I
told him I was Joe.  yes, he called everyone Joe.  Ha-ha!

I bought myself a plastic tarp, some food, and a one-gallon gas can.  The
food I placed in the explosives pack, and I filled the gas can with water.

By now the pack was getting pretty bulky, what with all the bedding,
water, etc.  I started off for Makua, but it must have been getting on
toward 6:00 P.M.  The valleys were filled with mist, and the mountaintops
were buried in clouds.  I walked past the residential section of Makaha,
crossed a bridge, and saw some youths coming home from the beach.  One
asked me where I was going, and why didn't I camp on the beach here
instead of going clear to Makua, and why should I be camping out now? This
was hardly the weather, etc.

I passed the ranch, and all the time my soul was longing for God.  It
seemed that on that lonely road I could worship Him again.  My soul was
surging forward of its own accord and struggling to escape the confines of
my flesh.  I knew that mortal man could only reach so far, and then the
body must be left behind.  I knew that I was only partially aware--that
lurking somewhere in the shadows beyond was my full mind, which I could
never grasp until I left the mortal robe behind and stood naked in the
glory of the dawn.

Now the dusk had come upon the road, and the wind rose, and glancing back
I saw the storm brewing in the twighlight.  A low, dark cloud hovered out
over the sea.  Then the rain came.  It came in light waves at first, and I
refused to believe in it.  But then it came a little heavier, and I
decided that my guitar would be damaged if I didn't cover it up.  This was
the old guitar I bought in Tijuana.  So I reached back and got out the
plastic tarp.  It was folded, and would not come apart at first, but
finally I managed to open it without tearing, and got it over my shoulders
just in time.  By then the rain was pouring down and the wind had risen to
a fury.

At first I just stood there and made sure my guitar was covered, but as it
kept raining hard I decided to go on.  I began walking as some cars passed
by.  I didn't really want a ride to anywhere.  I had spent many nights in
the wilds before, some even rainy, and one more wouldn't hurt me.  I
expected it.

But then a strange thing happened.  I saw the headlights of a car.  Two
indefinite-looking yellow blobs in the storm.  It went on past, and I was
a good way off the road, trying to keep from getting plastered by the
splash.  It was so dark that I didn't think it would be likely for anyone
to see me.  But then it seemed that they came back, and somehow I had
thought they might.  They pulled up on the opposite side of the road and
someone shouted, "come and get in with us!"  I ran accross the road and
unslung my pack.  Someone in the back seat took my guitar, and I piled in
the front.  The driver introduced himself as john, and that in the back
seat was mama and Noni.  I tried, but couldn't see any of their faces in
the dark.

They had a camp on the beach, and I could stay there.  Did I have any
white gas?  that was what they needed.  Oh yes, the boys were on a
vegetarian diet, so they'd have to go back anyhow.

We got to the camp, and I opened the door to get out.  There seemed to be
some figures standing in the darkness.  Here's one more!  I got out.
"This is Rip, and this is ...,"  and I couldn't for the life of me seem to
catch either name.  I was led to the cabin, and the car went off.

I entered the room, and set down my pack.  It still wasn't raining there.
The room was lighted by a storm lantern, and I realized that they had
thought I might have white gas in my water can.  I was assigned a bunk by
a youthful-seeming individual, and protested in vain.

Then I was led outside by the same voice, and I followed a cigarette to a
wooden bench.  There we sat and talked and became acquainted.

"And what was your name again?" I asked.

"Well, its really -----, but they call me Malau.  That means monkey in
Chinese." was his response.

Then the car came with the groceries and a mob of different individuals,
one of whom was Benny.  He had sailed in the merchant marine, and been to
Singapore, Bombay, and ...  And, "Oh yes, you have already met his
youngest daughter over there.  That's Noni,"  And I saw that this Noni was
terribly beautiful.

Then they all left, except for those two former individuals, who now had
beer, and sang to the tune of an ukulele till I was fast asleep.

And then there was somebody knocking on the screen door, and the very
place seemed to shudder.  It seemed ironical to me that they should show
so much effort, when all they need have done was give one hard pull and
the whole structure would probably have come spiralling down on top of us!
 I got to my feet but I couldn't see anything.  I just groped to the door
and fumbled with what appeared to be the latch.  "Just unwind it!" someone
shouted.  I grasped the cord I found dangling, and began twisting it
around the nail.

The door was open, and I stumbled back to bed.  The room was filled with
people, but the two former individuals couldn't seem to get up.  There was
a woman, and she sat on a bed to my right.  People were now sitting on all
the beds except mine.  I felt out of place.

They got out the booze and started drinking.  My eyes were bad, and I
could barely see.  A little fellow named Beaver started doing something.
I couldn't tell what it was, but finally gathered that it must be
something quite obscene.  The woman on the bed went into hysterics, and
rocked back and forth with laughter.  "Get 'im, Beaver! That's it!  Yay!
Ha-ha-ha!"

I lay there staring stupidly at the two indistinct figures.  Sometimes I
saw arms, sometimes I could make out a leg.

By this time I was sick with silent rage.  I turned my face to the wall
and prayed in anger.

The laughing subsided and they started singing.  Then somebody asked about
my guitar.  Malau tried to play it, but couldn't seem to coordinate it to
the music.  After much tuning, he finally gave up, and they asked me to
play.  I retuned it, and strummed a little in Flamenco style.  My playing
was not perfect, but it WAS music.

Then they sang again.  They sang "Michael Rowed the Boat Ashore."

God seemed to use my voice then, and I said something like, "Why don't you
really mean it when you praise the Lord?  You don't know how wonderful it
is when you can really praise Him."

A sudden change came over the room, and hilarity was transformed instantly
to sorrow.  An invisible evil seemed to slink away into the shadows of the
storm lantern, and the woman who sat on the bed seemed almost to groan.
"I wish I could believe that!" she said.

"But you can!" said I.  "How can you help it?  Look at the earth!  At the
universe!  Anyone can believe it!  it's silly not to!"

"I wish I could believe in Him!  I wish I could just praise Him!" she
said.

"You do!" said I.  "I knew it when I heard you sing!"

"I know." said she.

"Then you should love him!" said I.  "Humble yourself.  your trying to
rebel against something, aren't you?"

"Yes."

So we talked, and in that moment I knew the first reason why I had come to
Makua.  This woman and these people needed God.  The drunk sitting accross
from me tried to argue, but I ignored him and spoke to the woman because I
sensed that her need was most vital.

Then I felt that I had fulfilled my mission, fell silent, and turned my
face again to the wall.  I lay there in meditation, but in the background
there was a woman who kept saying how she wished she could be like that.
Why were those people always so happy?  how could they have such peace?
"And do you know Spencer?  You know Spencer?  well, I saw him in church up
there talking, and he was glad!  I couldn't understand it.  And, you know,
he used to be the worst crook!  but now he's changed."

So they talked, and I remembered big Spencer.  They were talking about
Al's church.

Then they started singing again, and they seemed half-hearted
enough--especially her.  "I don't feel right to sing church songs.  Come
on.  We can't sing church songs while we're drinking like this.  Even I
know that!  Sing something else."

Then they tried to sing some other shabby songs, but these just would not
do, and after awhile they returned to singing old Hawaiian church melodies
in the deepest reverence despite their drunken state.

At last I heard only the woman conversing with Rip, an occassional
delirious profanity from Beaver, perhaps a snore here or there, and the
rain.  Inwardly I laughed at the Devil and glorified God for the storm and
the wind and the rain.

At last she roused her sleeping husband, and they took leave.  It was
about 2:00 A.M., April 2, 1963, when they came.  And who knew what time it
was now?

"Well, good-night, and I hope you'll pray for me."  she said to me as she
came and took my right hand in both of hers.  "You will now?"

"Yes, always," said I, and they were gone.

Her name was Frenchy, and her husband was Cobra.

I didn't sleep again, but talked to Malau, who sat and drank until the
grey of dawn merged with the muddy surf outside.

The following three letters have been edited for better reading, but the
original words remain the same, even where they appear to be the wrong
choice, for example, "neglected" in reference to the native perahus:

Friday, April 12, 1963.

Dear mother,

I left Honolulu a week ago, and have been living at Makua ever since.  For
the first few days I stayed at a camp belonging to some friends of
Baguchi, but then, as I couldn' t stand the continual drunkenness, I
looked and found a place that seemed quite inaccessable from the road, and
there erected a platform on poles, and put my air mattress on top of that.
 The ground is extremely rocky and rugged.  This place is between one set
of cliffs (above) and another set (below) that faces the road.  The whole
area is covered with "hale koa" trees, and here and there a "kiawe", which
spring up through the rocks, and never (especially the former) reach any
great height or diameter.  There is no water, and the closest town is
about eight miles away.  Makua is a military firing range, but I am on the
bluffs to the northwest, overlooking the sea.  The surf makes a continuous
roar on the rocks below.

So these are the things I encounter on the road to the Indies.  It' s been
almost four years since I left Ambon, and I still don't know what will
happen next.  It seems like my existence has been wasted for all these
years, but I have done the things that I could, and can do no more.
Despite all, God has made his reasons for my coming here very definite on
several occasions, and so, I don't have to worry.  Especially here at
Makua, I mean.  God has been working in very mysterious ways, but to
explain all in this letter would be impossible.  I hope you will pray for
me always, so that I might find a way on to the Moluccas, and not linger
here.  Like I already wrote to you, it is almost impossible to save any
money here by working.  Especially with me, since I am so limited by my
eyes.  I am still waiting to here about another way to get there, the
details of which it would not profit me to disclose here, but I don't
understand the reasons for certain delays, and only hope that they don't
signify the cancellation of all prospects from that source.

Meantime, to go to Singapore would require a great sum of money, and my
financial strength has been reduced to absolute zero, so, if I see you
there, it will come in an entirely unexpected way.  Also, there is a new
mission forming, entirely pentecostal, and if they succeed, they want to
finance the remainder of my journey, and give me lisence as a missionary
of their organization.  I say "their", but I am one of the group as much
as anyone, I suppose.  Docter Otto Hunt is the one who wants to raise the
money, and he says that all he needs to do is to go back to Alaska and
contract out a claim.

Sunday, April 29, 1963

Dear Mother,

I wrote a letter to you on the 23rd, but the winds of Makua •wrenched it
from me and carried it off, evidently to sea, west- ward.  Anyway, I thank
you for your letter of so long ago.

Mother: As things are, it is appearant that I will not be able to reach
Singapore during your stay unless something beyond my reasoning should
take place.  I have been here a year, and so one more year of my youth has
come and gone, without appearant cause.

I have been reluctant to formally request your aid for some time, but now,
in the bitterness of my wasted existance, I beg your assistance.  I have
lived, and toiled, and waited these several years, and the prime of my
youth is quickly passing, in vain.  I feel that I have no more purpose
here.

Need I remind you that I have been faithful in the face of great odds?
That I have believed when there seemed to be no hope? That I have always
forced my way upward, while your other children have forgotten their
purity in the madness of their own conceit? That I have loved Him when the
very sky seemed to be made of brass? But I am sorry to remind you of my
struggle, because that is not the purpose of this letter.

And again I remind you of my physical condition, and this again with
reluctance, since I have requested healing.  But I am here, and there is
no one to pray for me, believing.  I am alone, and I cannot pray for
myself.  For this reason I am greatly limited in the work that I can do
for profit.  And if I must loose my eyes, then let my mortal gaze rest
once more on the grasses of the lowlands of Batchian, and linger one last
moment on the forest beyond the Ra.

As I have written, there is very little reason to expect work here.  You
know the condition of this place already.  So, I hope you can grasp the
urgency of my request, and beyond this, I leave the decision to you.  Do
what you want, and I will not further trouble you with my petition.

Please pardon the mentions made of my problems, you know that I have not
spoken boastfully, but for a purpose.

Meantime I am staying with Mike, who seems to have valued my friendship
more than most.  I have been back from Makua only less than a week, but
while I was there the mental struggle of the jungle became again real to
me.  The many rivers ahead.  Starvation and struggle and weakness.  How
you lose your morale so easily.  How you can cry and rend your soul, and
find no responce.  Remember? Remember what a periodical from civilization
was like?

Greet my friends there.

Your son,
Joe.

Monday, April 30, 1963.

Dear Mother,

I arrived here at Mike's just a short while ago, and found your letter in
the box.  I had just returned from town and filed my request for a visa
with the British consul.

I requested one year's visa, and the woman there said that it would most
likely come through in about a month.  So there seems to be no problem
there.

As regards the letter I wrote yesterday; If you decide to pay my way to
Singapore, please contact the imigration service there at once, for,
according to the consulate here, if you contact the imigration service
there, and agree to pay the telegraph fee, my visa will come through much
more quickly, and I can be on my way.

I believe that the fare from here is $400 at the cheapest, and I will
again contact American President Lines tomorrow, and arrange a booking
just in case, for they seem to be the cheapest as far as American
companies go.

I didn't ask about the job situation there, but the woman said that it
would be possible to arrange a work permit there.  If so, then maybe I
could find work in some capacity that would at least pay for my living.

I heard from Lee Millard not too long ago, and he says that North American
has now agreed to a settlement, and that his company planned to file suit
within the next thirty days.  That was almost thirty days ago, I think, so
something must have been done by now.  At any rate, I will try to return
you the money, even if it means hauling damar from the interior of Buru by
pack.  I think that once I am in the Moluccas, however, I should be able
to make enough money somehow so that I can pay you back, for there, even
the comparitively unskilled and sometimes lazy Chinese seem to be able to
roll in the stuff.  It may take years, but I won't forget.

Please remember to contact the imigration service there if you agree to
my plans, because the woman at the consul office asked me to write you
today, and that way my letter will reach you just about as soon as the
request for visa reaches the imigration service in Singapore.

I lost your letter, so I don't know when you are going to the conference
at Jakarta, but at the earliest, I couldn't reach Singapore before the
last of June, it seems, or the beginning of July.  Still, sometimes the
visas come through much faster, amd it was suggested to me that, with you
working that end, it might take only a week.

If I reach Singapore before you go to Indonesia, maybe I could go with
you, and thence onward to the Moluccas, and, like you suggest, to work for
a while with the Parsons, and maybe relieve them.  I don't think they will
be leaving though, because after so many, many years, they are doubtless
very attached to their work there, and their members and congregation.
Say, what ever happened to Herman? I can't remember if he ever made it
back to Papua.

Otherwise I may stay there and help in the work in Singapore-- for a
while, till things work out otherwise.  Still, you know, with the Moluccas
looming there, so near, how could  I long remain? I met a man here that
used to own a Chinese vessel, which he purchased for practically nothing,
and with which he used to make trips to the coasts of china, in the employ
of Cheng's regime, and maybe.  .......

Ah, but those are abstractions! Still, if I ever reach the Moluccas alive,
there is nothing that will ever be able to force me to leave.  I would
find Soumokil first, and live in the highlands of Ceram till the time
came, or go with Bapa Temi, and make my camp on the slopes of Tomahu! But
remember, this might be to my benefit, since the people of the highlands
are the very ones for whom we have all so long toiled and prayed, and
there, in the fastness of the forgotten jungles we could worship in the
most perfect liberty.  I could travel from place to place, and all I would
have to worry about would be the disorganized troops of Sukarno, who have
long proven their incompetance in the forests of Ceram, Haruku, and Nusa
Laut.

Still, I would prefer to live in a more peaceful situation, if possible,
and so I struggle.  One thing that might benefit us is prau
transportation, which thing has been more or less neglected by the former
missionaries.  In every Indonesian port there are moored, in almost
numberless quantity, row upon row of praus.  All these have to go
somewhere, and to come, and this is without a doubt the reason why
Indonesia has been able to exist this long with seemingly no
transportation.

I must close now, so please remember my requests, and greet Cavanesses.

and also, Moors send you greeting, uncle Joe, and Walter Kahumoku, from
Al's church, with whom I will enjoy dinner tomorrow.

Good by for now,

Joe.

I had dinner at Walter Kahumoku's house last night.  Then we went to choir practice.  And after that, returned to his house for refreshments once more.

She asked me what I thought about different things concerning the universe and the heavens.  I explained to her about the three parts of man and God.  Then we cleared the table, and later sat talking in the living room of his house.

Then he began to relate the different things of his youth to me.  He told me of his father, and that his father had belonged to the shark cult.  He said he remembered his father out gathering the fish after dynamiting the ocean floor.  He said that he and some friends were standing above, on a hill, trying to frighten off the sharks with stones, but that his father had asked him not to.  Then he had seen his father straddling a shark, as though riding the creature.  Walter says that he actually was riding it, but it could be due to his inferior command of the english language.  There were sharks swimming all around and under him, and he was even feeding them with some of the fish he gathered, just as if the sharks were his friends.

Then one day, his father, in perfect health, had gone down and helped some people to pull in and lash a shark.  The shark had tried to warn him by striking him with its tail, but he had not given heed.

That same night, then, after the household had gone to sleep, Walter had heard his father groaning, and bringing the light he found him to be broken out from head to foot with carbuncles.

From then on, his father had had a familiar spirit, and ever after that his mental existence had been a struggle.  He had been treated at Kaneohe, and appearantly had been released.  He would seem all right, and then he would drink again, and you would hear him arguing about himself, fighting this thing off, and telling it to get out and leave.

Walter is a member of the "Gospel of Salvation Church" of Honolulu, and has been saved for many years, and also baptised in the Holy Ghost, so the possibility of error in his statements is very limited, unless the tooth of time has severely gnawed his memory.  And so this is one of the only first-hand reports of this sort of thing that I have ever heard from the mouth of a saint.  I can offer little in the way of explanation.

Monday, April 1, 1963.

I boarded the Wahiawa bus at Aala Park, in honolulu.  I had with me my guitar, a large pack, and also a small explosives pack, into which I intended to put the food-stuffs that I intended to purchase in the town of Makaha.

I was bound for Makua, and the time was probably about 1:00 P.M., Monday, April 1st, 1963.

The Wahiawa bus was old, and the ride shakey, and I felt out of place sitting there in a back side seat, tell-tale pack and guitar beside me.  I had forgotten the locations of the different towns, and all the time I kept wondering if Wahiawa was on the north side of the island, or on the way to Makua, on the south.  It seems I had confused Wahiawa with waipahu.  And so I sat, wondering, until the bus stopped and made a right turn which didn't seem to fit in with my memory of the place.  I stood up and went to the driver to ask, and he stopped the bus, and made vague gestures, and indicated that Makaha was a different way.  I ran back and got my gear and started walking.

I knew then that the way I wanted to go lay closer to the coast.  I walked some miles, and passed the town of waipahu, and reaching the Eva forks saw people vending fruit, which brought back memories of the last time I went to Makua.  That old oriental had seemed to say, "A quarter a dozen," and when I payed, he said, "A dollar and a quarter a dozen."  Then Makua, the blazing sun, the thirst, and the corn was half eaten by worms.

About a hundred yards from the forks I was approaching an old man who seemed to be waiting for something.  A car pulled up, and he got in.  I thought that they were his friends, but they called, so I ran and piled in, gear and all.  A cheap-looking woman was driving.  She had red hair, and her hands were short and stubby.  Her nails were short, and protruded from wrinkled-looking fingers, and were covered with red varnish.  She talked incessantly, and the center of her conversation seemed to be the most abominable profanity.  Beside her sat a man who claimed to be an american indian, and she said that he refused to work.

We seemed to have reached Maile or Waianae, I still don't know which, and that was as far as they were going, so thank you, and we really did appreciate it, you know.

We stopped in front of a gas station, and I stopped to get a drink.  The old man walked on.  He was going to Makaha.  But I was soon up to him, and he stopped me, and told me to wait, and his niece would be coming home from the dentist.  We waited and talked for a good while, but she didn't seem to be coming, so we'd better start walking.  So we walked for maybe a mile, and then his niece pulled up, and we got in the back seat.  It was a black two-door, but I don't know what make.

I felt uneasy sitting there, because I knew how those Hawaiians hate and suspect a "haole," but it wasn't any time before we were in Makaha, and I got out.  I shook hands with the old man, and thanked him and the girl.  I told him I was Joe.  Yes, he called everyone Joe.  Ha, ha!

I bought myself a plastic tarp, some food, and a one-gallon gas can.  The food I placed in the explosives pack, and I filled the gas can with water.  By now the pack was getting pretty bulky, what with all the bedding, water, etc.  I started off for Makua, but it must have been getting on toward 6:00 P.M.  The valleys were filled with mist, and the mountaintops were buried in clouds.  I walked past the residential section of Makaha, and crossed a bridge, and saw some youths coming home from the beach.  One asked me where I was going, and why didn't I camp on the beach here instead of going clear to Makua, and why should I be camping out now? This was hardly the weather.

I passed the ranch, and all the time my soul seemed to long for God.  It seemed that there I could worship again.  As though my soul surged forward of its own will.  There was something in me that tried to escape the confinement of the body then.  That knowledge that mortal man could only reach so far, and then the body had to be left behind.  I knew that I was only partially conscious then.  That lurking somewhere in the shadows beyond was my full mind, which I could never grasp until I left the mortal robe behind and stood unveiled in the glory of the dawn.

Now the dusk had come upon the road, and the wind rose, and glancing back I saw the storm brewing in the twighlight.  A low, dark cloud hovered there above the sea.  And then the rain came.  It came in waves first, and I wouldn't believe in it.  Then it came a little heavier, and I decided that the guitar would be damaged if I didn't cover it up.  So I reached back and got out the plastic tarp.  It was folded, and would not come apart at first, but finally I managed to open it without tearing, and got it over my shoulders just in time.  By then it was pouring, and the wind had risen to fury.

At first I just stood there and made sure that my guitar was covered.  But as it kept raining hard I decided to go on.  I began walking as some cars passed by.  They were funny people, these.  I didn't really want a ride to anywhere.  I had spent many nights in the wilds before, some even rainy, and one more wouldn't hurt me.  I expected it.

But then a very funny thing happened.  I saw the headlights of a car.  Two indefinite-looking yellow blobs in the storm.  It went on past, and I was a good way off the road, trying to keep from getting plastered by the splash.  It was so dark that I didn't think it would be likely for anyone to see me.  But then it seemed that they came back.  I thought they might.  The car pulled up on the opposite side of the road.  "Come and get in with us!"  I ran accross the road and unslung my pack.  Someone in the back seat took my guitar, and I piled in the front.  The driver introduced himself as john, and that in the back seat was mama and Noni.  I tried, but couldn't see any of their faces in the dark.

They had a camp on the beach, and I could stay there.  Did I have any white gas?  that was what they needed.  Oh yes, the boys were on a vegetarian diet, so they'd have to go back anyhow.

We got to the camp, and I opened the door to get out.  There seemed to be some figures standing in the darkness.  Here's one more!  I got out.  "This is Rip, and this is ...,"  and I couldn't for the life of me seem to get either.  I was led to the cabin, and the car went off.

I entered the room, and set down my pack.  It still wasn't raining there.  The room was lighted by a storm lantern, and I realized that they had wanted white gas with that gas can I had water in.  I was assigned a bunk by a youthful-seeming individual, and protested in vain.

Then I was led outside by the same voice, and I followed a cigarette to a wooden bench.  There we sat and talked and became acquainted.  And what was your name again?  well, its really -----, but they call me Malau.  That means monkey in Chinese.

Then the car came with the groceries and a mob of different individuals, one of whom was Benny.  He had sailed in the merchant marine, and been to Singapore, Bombay, and ...  And oh yes, you had already met his youngest daughter over there.  That's Noni.

Then they all left, except for those two former individuals, who now had beer, and sang to the tune of an ukulele till ere I was fast asleep.

And then there was somebody knocking on the screen door, and the very place seemed to shudder.  It seemed ironical to me that they should show so much effort, when all they'd needed to do was give one hard pull and the whole thing would probably come spiralling down on top of us!  I got to my feet, but I couldn't see anything.  I just groped to the door, and fumbled with what appeared to be the latch.  "Just unwind it!" someone shouted.  I grasped the cord I found dangling, and began twisting it around the nail.

The door was open, and I stumbled back to bed.  The room was filled with people, but the two former individuals couldn't seem to get up.  There was a woman, and she sat on a bed to my right.  People were now sitting on all the beds except mine.  I felt out of place.

They got out the booze and started drinking.  Then Beaver started doing something.  I strained my eyes, and saw some sort of form sprawling on the floor.  Beaver seemed to be doing something to it.

The woman on the bed went into hysterics, and rocked back and forth with laughter.  "Get 'im, Beaver! That's it!  Yay! Ha-ha-ha!

I lay there staring stupidly at the two indistinct figures.  Sometimes I saw arms.  Sometimes I could make out a leg.  Beaver was doing something.  It seemed that it must have been something to do with sex, but I couldn't really tell.  Anyhow, by then I was sick with silent rage.  I turned my face to the wall and prayed in anger.  The laughing subsided, and by this time the former two were thoroughly aroused, as much as a drunk can be.  They started singing, and somebody asked about my guitar.  Malau tried to play it, but couldn't seem to coordinate it to the music.  After much tuning, he finally gave up, and they asked me to play.  I re-tuned it, and strummed a little in the classic-flamenco style.  Of course it was very imperfect, but anyway it was music.  Then they sang again.  They sang "Michael Rowed The Boat Ashore."

The spirit of God spoke to me then.  It seemed to be there all the time, but now it came out.  "Why don't you really mean it when you praise the Lord?"  Was that how I said it?  Or was it, "I wish you people could really praise the Lord!  you don't know how wonderful it is when you can really praise him.?"

There was a change in the room then.  In one brief moment hilarity changed into sorrow.  The woman that sat on the bed seemed to moan within herself.  It was the deep, pure sorrow of a lost soul for a moment surging deep and pure, but wretched sorrow, perhaps.  But in that room there was something more shocking than sorrow.  For a moment those mortals had heard the voice of God, and in the shadows of the storm lantern, waning fear was the most startling.  I felt it then for a moment.  Perhaps it was in the people sitting there, but I felt it.  It was as though something invisible had withered and slunk away in teror then.  That thing that had prevailed there in the two writhing figures, and dared to approach me in that place, as though it had tried to return without regard to me.  But a spirit greater than all had strangled and broken it there.

The woman then responded unmasked.  "I wish I could believe that!"

"but you can!  how can you help it?  look at the earth!  at the universe!  anyone can believe it!  it's silly not to!"

"I wish I could believe in him!  I wish I could just praise him!"

"you do!  I knew it when I heard you sing!"

"I know."

"Then you should love Him!"

So we talked.  But in that moment I knew the first reason why I had come to Makua.  This woman and these people needed God.  But above all this woman.  It seemed I knew that from that testimony she would be saved.  And yet I still haven't heard if so.  But it seemed I knew then, and I glorified God from the depths of my being.

I spoke, and the drunk sitting accross tried to argue.  I neglected him and spoke to her, for her need was vital.

Then I felt that I had fulfilled my mission, and I fell silent, and turned my head to the wall again.  I lay there in meditation, but in the background there was a woman who kept saying how she wished she could be like that.  Why were those people always so happy?  How could they have such peace?  "And do you know Spencer?  You know Spencer?  Well, I saw him in church up there talking, and he was glad!  I couldn't understand it.  And, you know, he used to be the worst crook!  But now he's changed."

So they talked, and I remembered Spencer.  They were talking about Al's church.  Spencer, Al, oh yes, he had re-married now.  Atta or Arthur.

And then they started singing again, and they seemed half-hearted.  Especially her.  "I don't feel right to sing church songs.  Come on.  We can't sing church songs while we're drinking like this.  Even I know that!  sing something else."  Then they tried to sing some other cheap songs, but they didn't seem to work at all.  They tried for awhile, but the way they finally ended up was singing old Hawaiian church melodies.  And all this was done in the deepest reverence.  Despite the drunkenness.  They couldn't help it.

Then they talked for some time more, but by this time only she and Rip seemed to be up.  The only other sound was an occasional delirious profanity from Beaver, and the rain.  Perhaps a snore here and there.

I had already turned on my pillow and laughed by then.  I turned on my pillow and laughed at the Devil, and I was overjoyed that God, in his mercy, had brought me there and given me victory.  But it seemed as though life itself was a hollow shell.  An immitation.  I laughed and glorified God for the rain and the wind.  The storm.

She had told me that she thought I could help her, but only God can do that.  "Humble yourself.  You're trying to rebel against something, aren't you?"

"Yes."

She roused her sleeping husband, and they took leave.  It was about 2:00 A.M., April 2, 1963, when they came.  And who knew what time it was now?

"Well, good-night, and I hope you'll pray for me.  She came and took my right hand in both of hers.  "You will now?"

"Yes, always."

And they were gone.

Her name was Frenchy, and his Cobra.

I didn't sleep again, but talked to Malau, who sat and drank until the grey of dawn merged with the muddy surf outside.

The following journal entries were transcribed by Julie Belina, 11/22/89
and 11/24/89:

Monday, September 2, 1963, Singapore to Bahau by bus.  Spent the night at Bahau Police Barracks.

I got up at about 8:30 this morning, ate breakfast, made preparations, and took the bus downtown the first lap on my journey to Pahang.  There I got the Johore bus, then the Ayer Itam, then the Segamat, then the Gemas, then Rompin.  From Rompin I walked a way into the woods and the night.  After sometime, I got a ride on a truck all the way to Bahau, where I met a fellow named Suppia, who turned out to be a policeman, and so I spent the night there with the fellows at the station.  They were very kind to me, and didn't seem to kick when I couldn't produce my passport, which I forgot in Singapore.  We shot the breeze till late, and made good and lively conversation.  Then Suppua begged off, and we all hit the sack.  Then Balu came, and we two talked on into the night.  So I spent the night at the Bahau police barracks.

Tuesday, September 3, 1963, Bahau to Bukit Rauk.  By foot, land rover, bus, and canoe.  Met the Penghulu, Dir bin Bokhtar, and spent the night with him.

I got up at about 7:30 in the morning, and Suppia had already gone, but Balu was still there, and after excusing himself for a time, he returned, and asked me to join him for breakfast.  This I did, and we feasted on pancakes and curry at a small Indian coffee shop.  After this, I took leave of them, having gone back to bid Suppia farewell.  He had turned out to be a real joker, and a wonderful fellow.  As for Balu, he was more the intellectual type, and I really appreciated him.

I struck out from Bahau, and walked until I had reached well into the rubber groves.  I was stopped by a man on a tractor who had been approaching from the direction of ayer-itam towing a mower, and doing a splendid job of trimming the grass along the roadside.  He asked me where I was off to, and promptly brought out his wallet, and presented this wanderer with 20 cents, and then suggested that it be used for a train ride.  May fortune be returned upon this enthusiast!

Then, later, I had the good fortune of being picked up by a government jup*, who carried me as far as the distance to Ayer-Itam or so.  From there I walked some distance into the forest, and hearing a sound in the forest, I drew my parang from my pack and looked until I saw movement.  I saw a brownish object, and as I watched this "thing," it seemed to be pushing its way up through the bushes.  As the thing stood up, I could see its head, and I realized that what I had been looking at was just an old native in khaki pants.  I spoke to him in Malay, but he didn't understand.  When I said Sakai, however, he nodded his head.

Just then, a red and white bus approached, and stopped, and I embarked for Sungai Lui (40 cents).

From Sungai Lui, I gathered the information that there were Sakai people there, but there were more at Tasek Bera.  I embarked on the Temerloh bus, and after stopping at several towns, we made the junction, where I got off to wait for the bus to Kuala Bera, which is located where the Bera River flows into the Pahang.  On the way, I had the time to do some shopping, as our bus stopped over for 1/2 hour at one village.  There I foolishly bought a spring for my camera which was far too large.  In the process, however, I did get some soap and pomade, for which I paid about 80 cents.  The spring was 30 cents.

I didn't have long to wait at the junction, for the Kuala Bera bus was not long in coming.  I did observe that the place is situated beside a small muddy stream, barely large enough to be navigable by small canoe.  The journey from the junction to Kuala Bera took us along the Pahang, a large and beautiful river, and the conductor sat beside me, and told me how the jungle used to be below the sea, and that the hills were islands.  This was long ago.  He also related to me how a frog, a bridge, and a prince were all turned into stone, and can still be seen today.  For that reason, the place is named Batu Papan, because of the bridge.

The sun was high as we drew into Kuala Bera, and the conductor told me to follow a Chinese, who was going to Bukit Rauk by canoe.  I walked down toward the ferry, and was called by some Malays, who sat yarning on a wooden platform or table situated under a large tree, which commanded a full view of the river below.  They wanted to know if I wanted to cross.  I had the opportunity of testifying to them and one asked me up to his house for a carbonated drink.  We sat and talked, and the good fellow offered me biscuits, which made a good combination with the drinks.  There was no ice, however, and so the drinks weren't too enjoyable in themselves.  We waited for half a day, and then finally I got a ride in a government canoe with two men (Malays) who had come from tumerloh to work at clearing the forest for $3.10 a day.  It had already started to rain at the landing of Kuala bira, but as we pushed off, it settled into a more or less steady drizzle which lasted all the way to Bukit Rauk.  The river stretched before us in many green bends that faded into the duller shades of distance in the mists that hovered like steam over the water.  A strange and interesting phenomenon.  We all paddled together, and as we went, we passed many native canoes, and my companions whispered to me"Orang Asli".  The river varied in width from 30 to 50 yards.  My companions were Abu, in front, and Busu, steering.  The Bera is deep and muddy, and here and there we saw different types of traps in the water.  We also saw a monkey trap on the shore.

My companions dropped me off at a landing at the base of a small hill, and a couple of the people came down, and led me to the "Penghulu's" house, the last row up before the jungle.

The Penghulu turned out to be a slight old man with grey hair fringing his bald forehead, and he allowed me to dwell in his house that night.  I climbed up the ladder upon his request, and found a small room with bamboo floors and bark walls, the whole thing raised about four feet off the ground on stilts.  I found it difficult to see in the lamplight, but among the faces, I thought I saw one or two women, a combination of lines that spelled beauty in the fading shadows.

All this time I had never been able to get away far or long enough to be able to relieve myself.  Indeed, the urge had been present even before my departure from Kuala Bera, and I never did succeed until late that night.  Despite all this, these are wonderful people, you know, but they just don't believe that white men are bound to the same habits as brown.
We talked, and I drank water and ate a piece of bread given to me by my friend --of Kuala Bera.  I was beginning to speak of God by the time the Malay guru poked his head in the door.  He wanted me to come and see the "school" then, so off we went.  He also invited me to his house, but by the penghulus persistance, I stayed with him instead.

Wednesday, September 4, 1963.  Bukit Rauk to Long's house and back by Dir's canoe.  Met Long, Anam and wife, and Long's wife.  Was asked to stay and teach them.

We were a bit lazy this morning after the conversations of the night, and so i'm not sure just when we got up, but i'm sure it was still early by Western standards.  I spent some time at my diary, and then got down to the brass tacks of the Semalai language.  I took notes for a long time, and still I don't think I got all I needed, but as man can only do so much at a time, that is, unless he has a more specialized training than mine.

There were women in the house, and these dressed without much regard for anything but the most elementary aspects of the idea.  Still, in all this, they had an unaffected sort of beauty that could not help but capture my admiration.  In what I was doing, that is in studying the language, they seemed to better understand my intentions than the men.
After this I took leave of the Penghulu and took a tour of the village.  We followed along the ridge, for the village was built on a hill, and soon we found a small group of people sitting around what seemed to be some sort of rolling apparatus, and drawing nearer I saw that a man was sitting on a platform between two sets of these rollers needing  a mass of white stuff that had the appearance of bread dough.  It was rubber.  Thus he worked until the material was approximately rectangular in shape and about one inch in thickness.  Then he pressed it through the rollers while his wife l__ned.
I was surprised to see that his wife wore no covering over her breasts except for the baby's sling, her only other clothing being a sarong from the waist down.  The skin of her back was covered with some sort of skin disease, which produced unattractive white spots here and there.  Beside the other rollers sat a handsome young woman in a real serong, her only garment except for a gold chain around her neck, and nothing over her shoulders or the upper part of her back and breasts.  She seemed astoundingly like some nymphh from gauguin's paradise in the flesh.

Returning to the Penghulu's house, I went in and prepared to leave, but the old man detained me, saying that I should stay for the midday meal.  So I waited and ate with him, and we had canned sardines with rice.  I also had opportunity to taste the tapioca flour, which tasted a good deal like sago flour, but still do not know just how it is made.  That morning however, the Penghulu had shown me a bundle of sliced tapioca root soaking in the stream.  He also showed me a large tortoise which he kept tied to a stake in the water.  The brute must have exceeded a yard in length, and its back also arched quite high.  These are part of the semalais diet.  He also showed me the blowgun his brother had purchased from another tribe about 20 years earlier.  It seems the semalais didn't make their own.  It was probably 2 or more yards long, 1.5 inches in diameter, and flanged to form a mouthpiece at one end.  The whole length of the thing was taped with some sort of cloth dipped in _____ and wound round.
After our reppast, we took leave of the household (at least I did), and set out for the stream.  The old man had insisted that he should accompany me to the guru's house, but I had overheard him saying the name of Bujae several times, and so was not surprised when we passed the guru's landing without stopping.

Thursday, September 5, 1963.  Bukit Rauk to Kuala Bera by canoe.  Bus to Temerloh.  Contacted Mother by phone there, and was promised Alfred would come if possible.  On to Bentong by bus.  Bentong to K.L. on banana truck, to Jalan Gasing Petaling Jaya by bus.  Reestablished acquaintance with Osgoods.  Met ...  Spent night at Osgood's home.

Friday, September 6, 1963.  Breakfast with Osgoods.  Alfred arrives.  Chapel at the school.  Lunch out, and shopping.  K.L. to Temerloh by bus with Alfred.  Met 2 china inland missions women at Temerloh.  Slept in clubroom offered us by a local Chinese member.

Saturday, September 7, 1963.  Temerloh to Kuala Bera by bus.  Kuala Bera to Bujae's landing by canoe rented from Awang at $1 per day.  Received and fed by Anam and wife.  Slept with Long.  We ate lizard for first time.

Sunday, September 8, 1963.  Service in the morning.  Very informal.  Was forced to behead chicken between singing and preaching.  Ate chicken for lunch, and returned canoe to Kuala.  I in one canoe, Alfred with Petyotyot steering in the other.  Arrived back at dusk.  Meeting in evening.  (Sermons:  morning:  The Sower, The Straight Way(John B.)  The Feast.

Evening:  The Rich Man and Lazarus.

Monday, September 9, 1963.  A treck to the hill and the Batu River and back.  Then well-digging.

Tuesday, September 10, 1963.  Well-digging.  Service in evening.  Preached on baptism of Holy Ghost, and prayed with them.  No immediate result.

Wednesday, September 11, 1963.  Carried rice from longs field hut.  Stayed home with sore feet.  Alfred went with Anam and brought home many gandarias.

Thursday, September 12, 1963.  To trail by canoe, by foot to road in company of Al and Petyotyot.  Bus to Durian Tawar and Mengkarak alone.  Met Jit Sing and wife at Mengkarak.  Lunch and supper with them.  To Singapore by night mail.

Friday, September 13,1963.  Arrival at Singapore.  Station to house by bus and foot.  Rest at house.  Service at Ku's house in evening.  Proposed Mr. Ho accompany me to Malaya.

Saturday, September 14, 1963.  Downtown to shop.  Bought tools.  Mother feint, forced to return early.  "Christ's Ambassadors" at Bethel and Faith.

Sunday, September 15, 1963.  Fever gone.  Still weak.

Tuesday, September 17, 1963.  Fever still gone.  Getting strong.

Here are some Christian songs in the Semalai language.  I think I learned them from Long.  I have used '^' to encode the schwa vowel sound:

Berkom Tuhan Yesus
Berkom k^ s^mbru
K^ s^mbru t^m Yesus
T^ Yesus
K^ s^mbru

5553 | 332 | 22323325565
5353 | 3432|

TITNOX JAKNOK YESOS LAX
KUBUS LAX DOSAX JI ROM
DOSA YE NO TITNOX JROJROS
PERTYAYA IN JESOS

TITNOX JUROS, TUHAN PANGGIL
INJIX, DOS IN KUHTYU
BOIMA TUNGGU YIX
JRO JROS
PERTYAYA INKUN

End transcriptions by July Belina.

AUGUST 11, 1964.

Dear Aunt Florence,

I hope that you have recieved my telegram to halt Morris's
letter in time. You are welcome to read it if you like. I tried
to explain to him that since I had heard from him, I had decided
not to attempt to stay on illegally in Indonesia as it would
jeopardize his work there, and be to much of a risk for him all
the way round. I, of course, still planned to enter Indonesia at
the first oppertunity, but to do so in a way that would be safer
for him.

It was my opinion therefore, that to make a trip into Indo-
nesia now would mean a waste of valuable funds, plus exposure to
other unforseen problems, such as, possibly, not being able to
find a place to stay in the Orient on my return. (It is so econo-
mical to live in Singapore as now). Above all, it would be disastrous
for me, at this stage, to return to the States. So it was, that I
wrote to Morris, asking him to cancel plans for my visit, and
begging his pardon for the unnecessary inconvenience caused to
him.

On further considerations, however, it seemed to me that this
granting of a visitor's visa was a blessing in disguise, and that
if I could obtain another visitor's visa to here for, say three
months from now, I would have nothing to loose. Cost of living is
so low in Indonesia that I might even be able to get along on my
$50, traveling expenses and all. Also, this gives me the matchless
opertunity of studying the situation there first hand. I cannot
help but feel that it is the Lord that has provided all this in
his great mercy, and that he has provided a way somewhere that we
may not even see at present.

You should be prepared for the immediate transfer of about six
hundred dollars to a bank or banks in Bangkok. I will be there
about the time you recieve this letter, so time is of the essence.
I will provide my fare to bangkok from here, and all time saved at
Bangkok will be money in the bank for me. You should phone Mother
immediately, and get her confirmation on this, and ask her what the
exact amount im travelers cheques is that is required on entry in
Indonesia. I think it is US1500, That is why I mentioned $600.
Plane fare probably won't exceed $100 to Jakarta from Bangkok, but
Mother can most likely set us straight on that too. Once in Indo-
nesia I will rely on Morris for support in Rupiahs, and, if at all
possible, retain the $500 intact till my return. At any rate, my
fare back to Singapore and all other essential expenditures will be
more than covered by that, and I will forward the balance directly
to you. It might be adviseable to arrange the $500 in traveler's
cheques for delivery in Bangkok at the nearest American Express Co.
Else you could arrange a bank draft on First National
City Bank of N. Y. at Bangkok. For me the simplest arrangement would
seem to be to arrange the whole thing through American Express Co.,
who should know exactly what to do. However, I feel you should know
more than me about this, and urge you to take the most economical
course available.

I will contact American Express Co. upon arrival at Bangkok, so
please forward all mail to them.

My deepest thanks for all your troubles on my behalf. Sorry I
had no alternative but to write you, since Mother has appearantly left
for Seattle or some place. Hello to Uncle, and all our friends there.
May God bless and keep you.

Yours,

Chaumont Devin

AUGUST 12, 1964.

Dear Aunt Florence,

By now I suppose that you have recieved both my telegrams
plus my letter. I only hope that you are not too thoroughly
confused.

First, I find that I can arrange a loan with the help of
R.B. Cavaness at the First National City Bank of New York. He
will be signing for it, so you should forward the correct amount
to him, as per my cable.

Second, you are not required to bring any given amount of
money into Indonesia, so long as you have a return ticket. The
fare there is $140 one way by air, which would give us something
below $280 round trip.  Train from here to Bangkok will be less than
$50, which brings it to $330. Now, as both fares will probably be
somewhat less, it would probably be safe to say that we have $300
taken care of so far. Then I will have left $100 to cover my stay
at bangkok, plus any emergency that might arise. I cabled you to
send $410 to Cavaness, which, after deductions for buying travelers
cheques and interest will give me the sum of $400 in travelers
cheques, which should more than cover my complete journey. With
this loan you will have one month in which to get the money to
Cavaness($410), and I will be free to go. I will leave here by
train on Sunday morning, and arrive Bangkok in about 2 days. I
hope to get sea transportation from Bangkok if possible, and in
that way reduce my expenses and refund this money to you, but I
feel that it is necessary to be prepared to fly, as transport is
very uncertain in this part of the world.

If for any reason at all it should be impossible for you to
meet these requirements, please cable me immediately c/o the U.S.
consulate at Bangkok so that I can cancel or delay my trip before
it is too late, as, upon arrival there the bulk of my loan will be
intact, and it will still be possible for me to refund Cavaness
without too great a financial strain.

There is NO American Express Co. at Bangkok. Can you imagine
that? Therefore, forward all correspondence to me c/o the U.S.
Qonsulate, and if I find out that there isn't any U.S. Consulate
when I get there, I'll simply give up and go eat worms!

R.B. Cavaness is at 33J Chancery Lane, Singapore.

Thanks in advance for your help. Sorry I made some errors in
my first letter, but I hadn't had time to straighten out my plans.
I hope that what I have said to you is clear, and that I have
given you the necessary knowledge of the situation.

May God continue to bless and strengthen you and Uncle Bob.

The 1965 material contains transcriptions of original, hand-written entries, transcribed by Julie Belina, October-November,1989.  This must have later been verified by electronic scanning, because it is preceded by this note: "The following scanned using dot-matrix setting.  Underlines were first used to mark questionable scan results.  They were later used to surround underlined words."

Notes about journal entries for January 1965: In the original I seem to have spelled the name of the East Indian man "Morley" instead of "Moreley," and the wood "baranti" instead of "meranti."  I also seemed to have written "calking" instead of "caulking."  The part about "lunch with John So, from Customs," was not clear in the original, so I really have no idea what it meant.

January 1, 1965.

Discouragement after rough night at Ramunia.  Sandbags rotten.  Boat
leaking.  Sailed all day to Pengerang.

January 2, 1965.

Pengerang to Singapore.

Sailing past kelongs all day.  Stopped by patrol.  Saw swordfish jump.
Music on the radio.

David Chin met me at Kallang River.

My body covered with what Mrs.  Crosby called "salt blisters."  Seemed to
get them wherever my skin chaffed against the boards.

Sunday, January 3, 1965.

To church in morning.  To Crosbys'.  Crosby helped in afternoon to move
boat upstream.

Monday, January 4, 1965.

To R.B.'s for lunch and visit.

Letter to Mother.  Bought seven pounds of round-steak for Crosbys.  Marge
made me a piece.  They don't know how to prepare steak.  She fried it in
deep oil.

My mast was evidently broken by a big tongkang, which came in from Siam
during my absence, for it was snapped off just at the iron hoop that the
stays were fastened to.

Tuesday, January 5, 1965.

Mailed passport to Butcher.  Painted boat.  Arranged my books for pick-up
by Moreley & Co.

Collin and Marge brought pump.

John Gunasagaran came.

Letter from Mother with check.

Wednesday, January 6, 1965.

Painted deck.  Dried sails.  Wrote Mother.

Thursday, January 7, 1965.

Applied second coat of paint.  Moreley didn't show up.  Found out later
that he couldn't find me.

Friday, January 8,  1965.

Met Moreley at Calvary church.  Stored books for M$3 per month.  M$4 for
pick-up.  My paint  job damaged.

Saturday, January 9, 1965.

Brought boat.  Unloaded with a tongkang's block and tackle, dropping it
all into the black waters of the river.  Put extra wood on cabin.  Got
boat part way up on land.

Sunday, january 10, 1965.

Caulking and tarring being done by Chan and other carpenter.  Extra nails
being added to planking.  This meranti wood they use swells a great deal
when wet,and the planking had come so loose in the beating it got in the
channel that you could slide match-box wood between the planks and frames.

Monday, January 11, 1965.

Tarring and caulking completed yesterday for M$30.  Put boat in the water
again this afternoon.

Tuesday, January 12, 1965.

Tried to put ad in the paper to sell my boat.  Failed.  Went to see
Marge,and met Paul.  Testified.  David arrived, of all people.  He is the
one that was with me on the boat for awhile, but turned out to be
good-for-nothing.  Went home.  Bought mast,and started work.

Wednesday, January 13, 1965.

Finished mast.  Its diameter too small.  Found my stays missing.
Apparantly stolen while the boat was being caulked and I had everything
piled  on the wharf.

Thursday, January 14, 1965.

Tried to get ballast.  Brought seven young men and sailed down river and
out into harbor with only clothesline wire for stays.  She wouldn't sail
properly,and all I ended up with was a charge of M$11 for towing her back.
 Discouraged and disappointed.

Note from memory, 12/31/87: I remember this day, when we almost got rammed
by a huge tongkang, which saw us and altered course at the last moment.
The breeze was light.  For some reason, it seems we  could not get
underway, and we had to just sit there drifting while the tongkang
(chinese junk) bore down upon us.  She approached from the east, which I
remember as being off to our port.  She veered slightly to port, moving at
perhaps all of 1.5 knots, and we beheld a marvelous sight.  As I remember
it, it was an old Chinese man wearing blue shirt and baggy, black pants.
In his mouth was a pipe, and he held a sheet rope in his hand.  He looked
as if he had been holding that pose for the last thousand years, and with
the heavily-burdened tongkang moving so slowly, it made me think of how
long their sea voyages must last, and of what patience they must have.
This one was probably laden with a cargo of pickled cabbage (achai),
packed in urns (guchi), from Siam.  The empty urns would either be sold
for M$0.10 each, or broken to smitherenes.  Large plots used to be strewn
with just such pot-sherds in Singapore, because there was often nothing
else that could be done with used urns.  I noticed such potsherds on the
Faith Church Assembly of God property at Kim Keat road.

Friday, January 15, 1965.

Went with R.B.  to the American Embassy, Immigration, and the bank,
borrowing US$410.  Treated  R.B.  to lunch at the American Club.

Went to see both Matthew Yang and Sister Neighbour, but both not home.

Saturday, January 16, 1965.

Very strong wind today.  Slept some.  Treated Austin Gomez to ice cream at
the pleasant shop on the east of Crosbys' house.  Showed him my
travellers' checks.

Sunday, January 17, 1965.

Slept at Austin's.  Refused to lend him M$1 to go to church.

Went to church at Calvary.

Got a letter from Mother at R.B.'s, and had lunch there.

Had dinner with Ahmed, and He took me to see Sister Neighbour, who was
sick (if I remember right), and I prayed with her in front of him.

Note added 12/31/87: Ahmed was a Malay policeman who lived on the ground
floor of the same apartment house as Austin Gomez.  It was an apartment on
the right as you turned seaward from Mountbatten Road onto Kampung Kayu
Road.  The address was Kampong Kayu Road, and it was on the west side of
the street.  I think the apartment house belonged to the police.  Austin
wasn't a policeman, but he lived with a Chinese lad named Elvis, who was.
Austin and Elvis lived at 33J, I believe, which would have been the tenth
floor.

I think I first met Ahmed when he came malingering around my boat,
probably snooping about for illegal drugs, namely opium, which was a
problem with the Chinese tongkang people.

Monday, January 18, 1965.

Cleaning up the boat.  Went to Katong post office, but it was closed for
the holidays.  There was no mail.  Found my stove was stolen.  Haris came
again.  Austin Gomez came.  To Ahmad's in PM.

Tuesday, January 19, 1965.

Slept well, but am getting a sore throat.  Feeling spiritually distressed.
 Had to move boat.  Haris was waiting on my return from breakfast.  Rain.
Stored goods.  R.B.  arrived with my Indonesian visa stamped in my
passport, good for three months.  A visitor's visa.

Wednesday, January 20, 1965.

Thai consulate.  Cholera clinic.  Straits Times.  High Street.  Getting
all squared away for my journey.

Thursday, January 21, 1965.

I slept at Elvis' last night.

Ad in paper.  5:00 PM, and no response.  Painted all day.

Friday, January 22, 1965.

Painted cabin interior.  Went to see Crosby family off, but it seems their
plane was just leaving as I arrived.  I climbed up to the balcony, and
only hope they saw me.

Went to Tommy Barnett meeting, and felt it was good.

Saturday, January 23, 1965.

Reading and painting boat.  Moved boat back out.  Cold still a bit bad.

Austin Gomez went to Victoria Theater with me to hear Tommy Barnett.

Sunday, January 24, 1965.

Morning service at Calvary.  Evening at Victoria Theater.  Both Austin and
Elvis came with me.  I couldn't detect any response.

Monday, January 25, 1965.

Painted decks.  Tried to get someone to watch the boat for me while I am
gone to Indonesia, but had no success.

Elvis stood up during altar-call last night.  He seems to be really
sincere about following the Lord.  I sang and read from Word to him today.

Tuesday, January 26, 1965.

Elvis busy memorizing vast portions of John 1 from the Gospel of John that
I gave him.

Moved boat.  Went to town.  Customs.  John Soh, from customs.  Lunch with
Austin and Elvis.  Received a letter from Alfred Ang.

Wednesday, January 27, 1965.

A man came to see my boat.  I bought my train ticket to Bangkok.

Thursday, January 28, 1965.

Left Singapore at 8:10 A M.  Crystal-clear morning.  Roast chicken for
lunCh.  Saw Alfred Ang in Kuala Lumpur, and talked with him at coffee shop
at station.

Left in the night, and arrived at Mertajam at dawn.

Friday, January 29, 1965.

Left in the night, and arrived at Mertajam at dawn.

Through northern Malaya and southern Thailand.  Train grew overcrowded
toward evening, and returning from the dining car, I found my place taken
by a woman.

Saturday, January 30, 1965.

Spent night sitting on a Time magazine near the end of a coach.

Met a Rev.  Lewis, from C.I.M., on his way to Bangkok to study.  Went back
to his coach.  He is the one doing the Malay radio work for FEBC, I
believe.  The program with the poetry.

Arrived at Bangkok in early afternoon.  Went to YMCA  Got permission from
Pauline to use bathing facilities with the agreement that if I couldn't
get on a plane today, I would spend the night.  Had my first bath in four
days.  Had been wearing tight new jeans, and developed itch in the crotch.

Found out that Thai has a flight tomorrow, but Garuda has one tonight,
although tourist class is all booked up.  They said I could come on out
anyhow, and that if someone didn't make it, I could have their seat.  It
finally turned out that they let me on first class for a tourist-class
fare.  The plane was to depart from Bangkok at 8:00 PM, and I was at the
airport, But true to Indonesian procrastination, we never got off till
12:30 A M.

While waiting for the plane, I sat down in the lobby, and wrote the
following:

(Joe: A hand-written note says, "edited and altered some".)

"I have arrived at Bangkok International Airport after two nights and as
many days aboard Malaysian and Thai Rails from Singapore.

I left Singapore on the morning of Thursday.  It was one of those golden
mornings that only happen in Malaya.  The air was clear and cool, and a
stiff breeze was blowing.

We swept on to Kuala Lumpur, where I saw Alfred Ang again, and then on
into the night till Bukit Mertajam, and changed trains.

All day long, I was awestruck anew by the mountains of northern Malaya and
southern Siam.  Monstrous limestone cliffs rising out of an endless sea of
rice fields like fantastically rugged islets, covered with untouched
jungle, so that you wondered if each might not have a name.

And then on into the gathering gloom.  Hadjai, Thongsong.  Wretched night.
 My seat taken by some Thai girls.  No place to sit or lie, so I spent the
night on my latest issue of Time, which protected my rear from the filth
of the floor.

Arrived at Bangkok noon today, and am now leaving on Garuda, at 11 PM.

This is the final sequence in my long journey to the Indies."

Sunday, January 31, 1965.

Arrived at Kemayoran in the early morning by a Garuda Convair 990 jet.  No
one was there to meet me, as no one knew when I was to come.  I had no
Indonesian money, and had to get a new international vaccination card, the
woman said, for which I was forced to pay with a couple of handkerchiefs
or so.  I had only a small valis with me.  Only one pair of long jeans,
and a pair of Levi cotton slacks, bought on High Street.  I had no way of
getting anywhere, and no telephones at my disposal, and having a very hard
time with my eyes.  After some time, a young Garuda employee, Bob Lasut,
lent me rp2000, after asking about me and hearing my story.  With rp500 of
this, I got as far as Pecenongan, where it was still so dark I could
hardly begin to see.  Walking up Gang Seha, whose bald head should I spot
in the window but Martin Thenu's.  He was evidently up doing some early
morning homework.  I thought it was Stephanus at first, he has gotten so
bald since I saw him last.  He took me to Coas' place by beca, where I
met Eng and the Coas.  They welcomed me happily.  Who should be at the
new Batutulis church as speaker that morning but Morris!  Embraced him.
Also saw Au (Augustina Siwabesi) Kaihatu.  Hugged her.

Staying at Coas'.  Almost blind, what with tiredness.  Ineke leading me
around (to church).

Monday, February 1, 1965.  With Morris and Fred Duncan, who is going to
take Parson's place at Ternate.  Petersons' in evening.  Met Meiers.  Went
with Morris and got Ketcham.  Took him to Meiers'.  He left again that
same night.

Tuesday, February 2, 1965.  Rude awakening! To bandung with Duncans and
Eng Hoat.  With Joyce and the kids.

Wednesday, February 3, 1965.  Ais Pormos came.  Tomasoa.  Preached at the
evening service.

Thursday, February 4, 1965.  Morris departed.  Preached at the prison.
Wonderful response.

Friday, february 5, 1965.  Eng Hoat went to get money.  Then he took
Duncans and Joyce to register.  Practised with Duncan's guitar (Gibson, I
believe).  Listened to Carlos Montoya record.

Saturday, February 6, 1965.  Study.  Joyce made bread.  Preached at C.A.s
in evening at the church.  The Spirit moved wonderfully.

Sunday, February 7, 1965.  To Jakarta with Eng Hoat.  I missed the
Ambonese who had waited for me at the church.  Met Tet.  Morris didn't
come till evening.  Am staying with Coas.

Monday, February 8, 1965.  Took off for Makassar by plane but had trouble
and plane had to return.  Arrived at Makassar on toward noon, Makassar
time.  The Kairupans were at the Makassar airport.  Kairupan was leaving
for Java, if I remember right.  I met Brother Bliss again.  He took me in
to Makassar in his station wagon, together with those nationals attending
the CMA conference.  They couldn't take me in as they were filled up.

I had a talk with Leo, Tante Netty's son, in the evening.

Tuesday, February 9, 1965.  I am staying with Tante Net at the old place.
To the waterfront with Allen.  No ice cream at Toko Nam.  Spoke on faith
and Elisha and the invisible army at the church (in the upper room).  They
are having troubles in the church with Kairupan evidently chief cause.
Surprised at the hatred that exists in the country.

Wednesday, February 10, 1965.  Allen departed.  I spoke on 1 John 4 at the
evening service.  Was begged to eat at Kairupans' after service, but
refused.

Thursday, February 11, 1965.  Aci and Martha and Lis came.  Lis brought
chicken.  Mrs.  Kairupan brought papaya and bananas and Bread.

Friday, February 12, 1965.  Spoke again, on lust and fruit of the Spirit.
Flight again delayed.

Saturday, February 13, 1965.  To GIA again.  Flight confirmed for Sunday
this time.

Sunday, February 14, 1965.  To airport.  No plane after all the work of
getting down to Mandai and "daftaring" myself.

Monday, February 15, 1965.  Mandai again.  Helped a bank clerk who was
overweight by putting some of his things on my ticket.  He is a Moslem
from Wakal or someplace.  (1993 note: This man was actually from Sawaii.
He worked at the Bank 1946, in Ambon).  We actually flew to Ambon this
time.  It was a beautiful day, with white clouds and blue mists.  Ji Nam
was on the plane with me.  I sat beside a Drs.  returning from Java after
several years' absence.  We had lunch aloft, and it was very good.
Gado-gado, krupuk, coffee,and a banana.  We flew over Buru and Ambelau.

Ambon!  Beloved Ambon.  Couldn't stand to wait around at Laha for more of
the old grind, so I just started walking.  Like in a mystic dream.  The
forest spoke to me.  Ambonese women passed me, all dressed up in
sarong-kabaja.  Walked all the way to RumaTiga.  Boy and girl on bike.
Children asking me for cigarettes.  Thinking I was Russian some boys
swimming offered to duck me (in Ambonese).  So beautiful, So unreal.  The
view of rolling hills: small mountains and water in the afternoon
sunshine.  Got a ride on a Jeep from Rumatiga to Kate-Kate.  I Arrived at
twilight and Bill Brown greeted me from the verandah just as if I always
came in like that.

Tuesday, February 16, 1965.  With Oce.  Spoke at chapel.  To Ambon.
Police.  Immigration.  Lateri.  Went for swim.  Found out about taboo.(No
mixed bathing).  Talked to Keri after church.

Wednesday, February 17, 1965.  Tinus and Lena.  Others.  Kate-Kate.
Talked to Keri in a perahu as he was leaving to go fishing and I was
goofing around (in Esaf's perahu, I believe).  Then later at his house.

Thursday, February 18, 1965.  To Ambon again.  Saw Tante Eng.  Departed
for Leksula on B.O.  #57.  Riptides bad off Cape Alang.  Lost a sack of
rice and I was fearful we might lose some passengers.  had to turn back
off Pulau Tiga, listing and leaking.  Anchored in Labuan Tapi.  Fell
asleep in Pilot-house, and nearly fell off bench and through door except
that No Behuku(ex-raja's son) detained me with his arm.  Tough night.  We
drifted in near the rocks.  The boat was pitching badly at anchor.

Friday, February 19, 1965.  Tried again, and succeeded in crossing the
strait.  The wind was strong from the north.  There was lots of spray.
Everything was wet and salty.  We reached Namlea in the evening, after
passing through showers.  I bought some gogos-es.  Slept on bench.

Saturday, February 20, 1965.  Left in the morning.  Stopped at Simi, and
Wamsisi.  We arrived at Leksula late at night.  Lena had been seasick all
the way I was traveling with Lena and Tinus.  Petu Tama came and got us In
his canoe.  Saw Apong, Bapa Temi, Mama Mura, Isjbak, and Oom Te.  The kids
were crowding around and into the house and gawking at me.

Sunday, February 21, 1965.  Preached in the morning service after singing
Intan-Intan Dan Permata.  Talked about the work being like a kebun, where
the jungle would sprout up again if it were not continually cleared.
Weeping spirit.  Bert cried and cried.  I laid hands on him and prayed
with him.  Visited with Martin Lesnusas.  I ate lunch at Oom Chor's, where
I am staying.  Talked with Bapa Temi.  The church board met in the
afternoon.  Bapa Temi spoke in the evening service.

Monday, February 22, 1965.  Checked in at the government offices.

Semuil (Emo).  Went to EnBotit stream and bathed.  It was too late to go
on to the beach.  I gave Oom Chor Rp2,000.

Tuesday, February 23, 1965.  Breakfast and visit at Martin Lesnusa's.
Strange weariness in my body, like hunger.  Went off kasbi at the evening
meal.  Tried to reach En' Botit beach again this afternoon but failed.
Preached on fear in the evening service.

Wednesday, February 24, 1965.  Bananas for breakfast.  Coffee.  Strange
sensation of darkness "  folding in on me" to mold me into the same shape
as the natives.  Must be comradship.  It seems that a day or two after my
arrival at Leksula  I began to feel a strange weariness come over me.  At
first we ate rice, but I went more and more onto an herb diet after I
found that rice was something of a luxury here, and I was unwilling to
take the pig's share.  My weariness has slowly increased, and it occurred
to me that our diet consisted largely of boiled tapioca.  I recalled that
I had read that certain peoples of Latin America were incapable of work
because of their low protein diet.  The article, however, had also
mentioned that tapioca had been a major ingredient in their diet, and
knowing that tapioca is a poisonous plant, I supposed that my difficulties
might have arisen from ppoison built up in my system due to an overdose of
tapioca.  Last night our diet consisted of tapioca, peanuts and shredded
tapioca leaves and coconut meat.  I partook of the last two but abstained
from the former.  This morning I had 2 fried bananas and one cup sweetened
coffee, without cream.  It is now mid-morning, and I am still extremely
weary.  If my difficulties were actually from poisoning, I feel that the
symptoms should have begun to subside by now\ so it is my belief that this
weariness must be because of my present low protein diet.  Tinus has also
complained of weariness.  When I questioned Petu Tama he said he often
felt weary ("lombo") or soft.  Here are my personal symptoms:  uncanny
weariness, light-headedness or dizziness, tending toward optical black-out
if I suddenly stand up, craving for protein yeilding foods, like fish,
meat, eggs, etc.  I also have a bad taste in my mouth, bad breath, and a
metallic sort of tasting phlegm, but feel these may come from other
causes.  If i recall correctly, this "metallic" taste was already present
before departure from Ambon.

I feel that our work here at Leksula has suffered from this cause a great
deal, and, if I am correct, the reason behind many failures may be simply
malnutrition.  I also recall that Yom, who was by far the greatest
preacher ever at Leksula, was also a cunning hunter, and that Temi, the
apostle to the wilderness has always had meat in his diet when I have been
with him.

Thursday, February 25, 1965.  Felt stronger today after eating some dried
fish I bought at a Chinese shop and brought home.  Walked along the beach
from Leksula and reached En' Botit beach.

Friday, February 26, 1965.  Went to En'Botit again with Oom Chor this
time, who was drying his copra.  Had long talk with him at his hut in the
forest.  Lesnusa and his little boy Alfi today.  We went bananas.  I
spoke on wisdom in the evening service.

Sunday, February 28, 1965.  Preached in the morning service.  Went
visiting with Emo.  Felt no annointing to preach in the evening service so
Tinus spoke.

MARCH 1, 1965.
Don't remember about today.

March 2, 1965.
Copied Jom's letters until noon. Went to pray in the church but
was disturbed by kids. Went back into the hills and prayed in a
plantation. Preached on the Ten virgins in the evening service.
Argued with Martin and Tinus who think doors have to be kept closed
during prayer service. Told them that we would be a second Gereja
Protestant in a few years.

March 3, 1965.
Went to Bert's. We made plans to leave for Kawiri at three in
the morning. Ate at Emo's.

March 4, 1965.
Didn't get off last night, but hope to leave tonight instead.
Went to En' Botit with Martin Lesnusa. Out to En' Botit Isle. We
found Amer at Martin's family coconut plantation, where we broiled
some of the fish and baked some green bananas and ate them with him
in the forest. Bert Solisa, Amo and I left for Kawiri in Bert's
big kole-kole late in the night. The sky looked dark to my companions,
as if a bardaya were threatening, so we put in at Enbotit Isle,
where there is a fine little stretch of beach on the landward side.
We had to backtrack some to get there, but it was worth it because,
contrary to Enbotit Beach, the islet has no mosquitos or gnats
whatsoever. A really fine place to rest. We lay talking on the sand,
until my two companions fell asleep. Amo talked like if everything
were fine with him spiritually, but I later learned that nothing
could be farther from the truth. He talked about the shortcomings
of everyone in the church (if I still remember correctly). I stayed
awake, and had to rouse them when the kole-kole started getting washed
around in the surf. I couldn't see a thing, of course.

Friday, March 5, 1965.
We paddled on sometime in the wee hours, and coasted mile after
mile under Buru's ponderous cliffs in the darkness until a
spectacular Moluccan dawn burst flaming from behind the jutting spires
behind us. We arrived off that stretch of rocky beach known as Kawiri
at about seven or eight in the morning.
Thanks to the timing of
Bert and Amo, we made it in through the surf to the mouth of the
little stream and were ashore at last. My wallet had gotten wet so
I rinsed it in the fresh water that flowed sparkling over the pebbles
in the morning sunlight. I was led up to Bert's missing brother's
house and stayed there. He went off in a perahu called the Immanuel
and has never come back. His wife is part Chinese, and comes from
Lateri. I went to see Behukus' house and saw No and his father. I
think I saw Harold that day too. His home is in a different apartment of the same house as the missing brother's home.

Saturday, March 6, 1965. Strange behavior. Warnings about discretion. Had been drying my
money that got wet in the stream. Bert off to the fields all day.
Terrible feeling of being incessantly watched. Can't even bathe
alone, but am always watched. Every move I make. People completely
tactless. Whole village (men folk) turns out to watch me bathe, and
make comments on my private parts in Buruese. I am suffering from
the jockstrap rash I got on the train from Singapore to Bangkok. Horribly
embarrassing! and none of them has the slightest regard for my feelings.
I could every bit as well have been an animal. To rebuke them
for this did no good, I later discovered. They are completely
shameless. (I didn't write all of this at the time, as I was still willing
to justify the Ambonese then. I used to have great respect for them.)

Sunday, March 7, 1965.
I went to the protestant church. The meeting was terribly dry and long. I found
the bamboo flutes and black coats interesting, however. Brilliant
sunshine this morning.

Monday, March 8, 1965.

Went to the Ex-Raja Chorneles Behuku's for a chat. I took off
for Tifu, much against everybody's advice (as if I regarded that
type of advice). It was a beautiful day. The sun was blazing in a cobalt sky.
There was fantastic scenery. The path led over big rocks during the first part of the way.
Then it led out into the
break, where savannah stretches back into the high mountains of the
interior.

On the trail near a little stream between the grasslands, I met
a Mohammedan gentleman wearing a songko.  He was some sort of "kepala
Kampong" somewhere, I think, and he said that he knew my parents from way
back.

I was out-of-sight of the beach till Tifu Bay.   Tifu bay is a
spectacular sight, like Hanauma Bay, Oahu, only bigger.  I stopped, and
sketched the bay while I was still high above the final descent to the
canoe landing, up where the grass had been burnt off.

I met Tinus' brother
at the canoe landing on the opposite shore.  Had to "yoo-hoo" for a canoe
for a long time before anyone would come to pick me up.

If I remember
right, it was from one of the Butonese perahus lying at anchore that a boy
finally came and fetched me in a kole-kole.
In the meantime I had gone in for a swim.

If I remember correctly it was today that I
ate at the marinyu's house, and he and his wife were just preparing
to leave, for Leksula, I think.

Tuesday, March 9, 1965. Chills at night. Fever. I didn't know it, but this was my first
taste of malaria. My first round. Fever gone in the morning.  Climbed around a bit on the little islet near the north
shore. Went exploring where the fresh water comes out under the
cliffs. Relieved self and rested on the little stretch of beach
bay ar
there. go go ed a sea turtle. (Am staying with him at his relatives.
Ate some blimbings and pamelo (citrus). Hett"A@@ @ @@@@a*@@-s@-n@gh@.
Tinus arrived on his way to Kawiri. I was wroth with him for coming,
as he claimed that he came to prevent me from going into the interior,
as I had planned to do, and everyone was opposed to it. I had planned
to go up from Tifu. As if it were his business to stop me from
doing a bit of hiking on this little island, if I wanted to. Can't
understand why these people always want to prevent you from seeing
the interior of their island. Tinus also had other business, which
was probably the real cause of his coming. He probably just wanted
to be the big hero that brought that "American kid" back. @ @X@@S
didn't appreciate that. Feverish again in the night.

Wednesday, March 10, 1965. If Tinus couldn't stop me the fever did. Same old story. No place
to releive myself. Tried to make it to the beach, but was shouted
at by the natives, who have no regard whatsoever for the feelings
of others, it seems, at least not a white man's. It became a public
affair, and in the frustration and confusion and burninœ anger I
couldn't possibly find where I was going. I was so frustrated and
driven by their behavior that I took my bag and left. I felt almost
insane. I don't think I had ever been treated with less dignity in
all my adult life than here in the Buru I loved. (Or thought I loved).
No, I still love Buru, but hate humiliation and stupidity. If I was
another man there most likely would have been a good fight that day.
Their treatment is inhuman, and they seem completely ignorant of
their rudeness (I write all this later). I was still trying not to
look at whole races of people then, but at individuals. I think I
would have swam if I had no other way to get across that bay that
day, but a Binongko lad or two took me across in a kole-kole, for which
I payed them well. I know of no way you can walk around Tifu Bay.
Those sheer cliffs in back are where the ancient Garuda used to
live before it was killed by the Chinese hero with the red-hot iron.
I passed Tinus on the trail to Kawiri. Raging ""," .11 afternoon
at Bert's missing brother's home. Into the night. Young men, Caka
and Anis spoke of killing me and making off with the money I had
in the night, in the Buru language, evidently not thinking I
understood enough to know what they were talking about. I called Amo
and told him, and they left the room where they were going to sleep
with me that night.(Bert was gone). Then later I got to thinking
that Amo was the very one that I shouldn't have talked to about
this matter. Sometime after I lay down Caka and Anis returned. I
got up and made a scene and brought the thing to the attention of
the whole village, thinking that that way they would be afraid to
do anything. I said I was going to the Kepala Kampong's and started
off walking, even though I couldn't see a thing. I let them bring
me back with the stipulation that those two couldn't share the room
with me.

Thursday, March 11, 1965. Disregarding many protests, I left in Bert's little outrigger
for Leksula at about eight this morning. Bert had said I could use
it
iUBU@ 1965.
drank from under the rock, was led quickl@ltle %,fa is hard to
@@RCH, l8eB.

Still weak this morning. Boat supposed to arrive today. Heard
about a skeleton in a cave at Oom Te's plantation today, but couldn't
get anyone to show it to me. Oom Te rather afraid because he thinks
It's somebody's place of worship. Mid afternoon I heard a perahu was
leaving for Ambon just in time to catch it. Oom Chor and Emo brought
me out to it in Onko Seng's canoe, and Oom Chor presented me with
a fodo of green bananas, for want of anything else he could find
on the spur of the moment. Sail was already up, so it was no time
but we were under way. We had a good wind, and it was no time before
we were off Nal Besi. Our perahu seemed to make excellent time in
the following west wind. The name of the juragan is Solisa, and the
perahu is Muda-Lawang, from Oki. We were off Wamkana bylmL@"eafternoon,
auo, sighting a school of tuna, we steered right through it and
the men brought in a lovely cakalang. I was In the cabin during
the time, and they were asking for the spear, but I couldn't see
it in the darkness. By the time they got the spear they ound they
didn't really need it after all as It wasn't a large fish. They
landed it without difficulty on the after deck, and from there down
the after hatch. A lovely specimen!
We made Namrole after nightfall, and anchored there for some
time while the crew was on business ashore. I was fortunately invited
to share provisions with a fellow passenger. It wasn't very much,
but enough to tide us over until we could get something more
substantial. Namely our tunafish which by this time was a-cooking
under the experienced hand of "Bapa," the old man from Elat in the
Kei Islands, up front of the cabin. Me, I crawled up on the cabin
roof and fell asleep ""e our supper was prepared, but no sooner had
I crawled down to find a cozier spot inside than old "Bapa" figured
we might as well go ahead, as those ashore seemed mightily long in
arriving tonight. Go ahead we did, and I was deeply thankful for the
protein, especially in this forn. Cakalang makes a dish fit for
any king, and"Bapa" was not entirely unskilled as chef. We had
tuna and boiled kasbi in sauce, and thanking the old man I
turned in. (I forgot to mention, but in the provisions of my friend
I had gotten some fried puri, a very small fish, perhaps about the
size of a large guppy; fried whole, and, to my knowledge, uncleaned.
You eat them bones and all, and they're quite delicious. About a
handful of these or less, a piece of kaladi root, and some sliced
greenpapayavegetable.) ----"
My fellow passengers are five policemen, among them Comendant
Solisa, Sukota (who went to bring me back from Amboti that time),
and a Bandanese named Ahmad. They are all bound for Ambon for further
studies. Herets of the Koperasi was also aboard. When the moon rose, the men stirred themselves up and beat the
gong. That didn't seem to bring any response at all from the ones
ashore for whom it was intended! and I drifted off again to the
words of someone that he was going ashore to fetch them. Next thing
I knew we were pulling out of NamRole harbour and on our way-]t,
ing a bardaya we downed the mainsail in the middle of the night
but nothing happened so we upped sail again and
I drifted off once more. Sometime in the night a vessel passed us
on its way westward.

Tuesday, March 23, 1965.  Mid-afternoon I was at Leksula, and
found a perahu was leaving for Ambon just in time to catch it.  Oom Kor
and Emo brought me out to the perahu in Onco Seng's canoe, and Kor
presented me with a fodo of unripe bananas for want of anything else.
Sail was already up, so it was no time but we were under way.  We had a
good wind, and it was no time but we were off NalBesi.  Our perahu seems
to make excellent time in the following west wind.  The name of the
juragang is Solisa, and the name of the perahu is "Muda-Lawang," from Oki.
 As we progressed, we were off Wamkana by late afternoon, and sighting a
school of tuna, we steered right through the centre, and immediately we
got a strike.  I was in the cabin at the time.  They wanted the spear, but
I couldn't see it.  Anyhow, by the time they got the spear out, they found
it was a smaller one, and they landed it without difficulty on the deck,
and from there down the after-hatch.  A beautiful specimen!

We reached
Namrole after nightfall, and anchored for sometime, as the crew had
business to conduct there.  I was fortunate in receiving an invitation to
share provisions of a felow passenger.  Not very much, but something to
tide us over til we could get something more substantial, namely our tuna,
which at this time was a-cooking under the clever hand of "Bapa," from
Kei, Elat, up front.

Well, me, I crawled up top the cabin and fell asleep
ere our tuna was ready, but no sooner had I crawled down to find a cozier
spot in the cabin than old "Bapa" figured we might as well go ahead, as
those from shore seemed to be mightily long in arriving.  Well, go ahead
we did, and I was mightily thankful for the protein, especially in this
form.  Cakalang, this particular form of tuna, makes a dish fit for any
king, and old Bapa was not entirely unskilled as chef.   We had tuna and
tapioca in sauce, and thanking old "Bapa", I turned in.

I forgot to
mention, but in the provisions of my fellow passenger, I had gotten some
fried pure, a very small fish, perhaps about the size of a large guppy,
fried whole and uncleaned, to my knowledge.  You eat them bones and all,
and they're quite delicious.  About a handful of these or less, a piece of
coladium root, and some green sliced papaya vegetable.  My fellow
passengers are five policemen bound for Ambon for further studies.

When
the moon rose, the men roused themselves, and beat the gong, to which
those on shore didn't seem to respond, and I drifted off again to the
words of someone that they were going to go ashore and call them.  Next
thing I knew, we were pulling out of Namrole harbour, and were on our way.
Fearing a Barat-Daya, we downed the main-sail later in the night, but
getting none of the expected squall, we upped sail again, and I drifted
off once more.  Sometime in the night, a vessel passed on its way
westward.

Wednesday, March 24, 1965.
I awoke this morning to find us becalmed between
Pulau Oki and the coast of Buru. Early morning and the sun was
making a yellow-orange splotch in the eastern sky ahead. Someone
started to row, and the wind slowly rose from east
and northward.   There is a Chinese fellow named Oki.

We punted our way into the mouth of Oki Stream, right through
the surf. It was high water, and they grounded her on the sand in
the estuary, a fine pond of fresh water where we could wash and
bath. I believe there are two streams that empty into it.
I followed our gang up to the village, walking along the rocky
shore and then cutting straight in at the end of the compound. At the village I
met
Al Katiri, a dark Arab from Hyderabad.  Listened to radio, and heard of
astronaut's landing.  Nother on ranger.

After coffee at Al Katiri's, we
went on down the way and had something to eat
for breakfast at the house of a man named Umar Lesnusa, on the landward side of
the road, just about at the tip end of the village.  Oki is just another Buru
coast village, situated right on the beach.

Finding
that my police friends had left I made my way
back to Al Katiri's, who said that they were in conference with the owner of the perahu to
determine whether or not we could charter it for our journey to Ambon.  I
had been warned before getting on at Leksula that there was a possibility
of the trip being cancelled because the owner, who lives at Oki, had not
heard of the trip yet, and might want to use the perahu for another
purpose.  So I walked on to the west end of the village--the opposite end
from Umar's--and there I found my police
friends in the owner's house with no solution to the question of our
departure.

From there I was called back to have lunch at Al Katiri's, where I enjoyed
rice and chicken soup and the conversation of my host.  I have known Arab
hospitality to be indeed gracious.  We spoke of Arabia and the Middle
East.  Al Katiri speaks and reads Arabic,
and made a trip to Hyderabad around 1935.

The people of this Muslim village have been much better as
regards manners, and haveN't stared so much at me, etc.

A bardaya swept through the village just as I returned in the afternoon.  An old house
nearly fell on me, but I made it to the safety of an open house, one of the only sound structures
nearby, and from there I stood watching. It was a violent wind, and it blasted us with sand.  It swept rain and sand along together in level sheets till I had sand
in my teeth. Pieces of atap got up and walked along on the
tips of their leaves.  One girl went a little crazy in the storm.  I didn't see, but they
said she ran jumping in the wind.

I ate dinner and slept with the "gang" at Umar's house.  We had sinoli and fish and it
was all very delicious.  I have a great fondness for sinoli, which is
sago, baked or fried with grated coconut.  It goes extremely well with dried or
baked fish.

Thursday, March 25, 1965.
Breakfast at Umar's and then back to the perahu, where Bapa
Hassim had slept.  There I stayed to watch the
baggage.  I received an invitation to coffee from Mrs. Al Katiri, who had
come to wash at the stream, but was unable to fulfill, as I had to watch
goods.  When "Bapa" Hassim returned, I bathed, and took some bananas with
me to Mrs. Al Katiri.  She bade me to stay for lunch, after my due
apologies for not being able to arrive in time for coffee.  Al Katiri was
gong to Wam Sisi to weigh copra.

By this time we all knew that the owner
of the perahu on which we came did not intend to let us off to Ambon, as
he intended to use her to transport a bride to Seid, North Buru, where a
wedding is shortly to take place.

I returned to the perahu with Solisa and Heretz. Spent the
afternoon in conversation aboard the perahu. Heretz, Komandant Solisa,
Andi (of the Koprasi, the same fellow that was at Bert's house for
babi-kecap that day if I remember correctly), and myself. Part of
my bananas were ripe by now, so we ate bananas and later, some
peanuts from Andi, boiled by Solisa.
I went ashore ahead of them in order not to get stuck in the
dark, and was detained again for coffee by Mrs. Al Katiri.  Then off
after the lads (being led in the dark) to Umar's, where I entertained
a large audience with an ukulele. I couldn't see them, but they were
gathered outside and wouldn't let me stop till our hostess had to
drive them away. She was impatient over the meal, which I didn't
know was ready.

After dinner, we were forced to listen to a terrific long monolog
by an elderly recent arrival from Selatan    Daya.  I was finally invited
to sleep, for which I was extremely grateful, and our entertainer was
finally forced to give up for lack of listeners.

Friday, March 26, 1965.
Breakfast at Umar's. My beloved sinoli and fish again. Sukota strummed
the ukulele awhile, until a manteri arrived and Solissa and Heretz
left with him eastward to search for perahus.  The rest of the gang and I left
for Kampong Oki Baru, where I rested after conversation with a traveled
young Chinese from Red China, while they all proceded to play card dominoes for money with our host and another
fellow.

I awoke for lunch, which turned out to be pretty good.  It was pounded
maize boiled like rice, vegetables, and even a little goat meat and broth,
which seemed very good to me.

After this they all returned to their game and me to my nap.
When I awoke this time they were gone, and my hostess was sewing.

A good storm was brewing in the mountains, and I excused myself
after thanking my host and hostess, to return to the perahu.

During the afternoon, I continued writing my journal aboard the perahu,
where "Bapa" had left me two bananas.  I also relieved myself and bathed.
But I Was bothered by the Kei boys, so I left the boat for Oki Lama with
all my goods in a drizzle.  'Twas then that I was detained again by Mrs.
Al Katiri for more  Coffee with ginger.  I had Supper at Umars, followed
by a horrible night of battle with some sort of infinitesimal gnats or
fleas, which stung fiercely, and seemed to penetrate even to my inner
clothing.

Oki Lama is on the east side of the stream, and Oki Baru on the west.

I find that by far the most interesting of our party are the two that have departed for Pohon Batu and Wamsisi in search of a perahu, namely Heretz and Solisa.  The rest are rather dull.

Saturday, March 27, 1965, Oki.
Frankly, I feel miserable from the hopelessness of our plight       here.
Four days now.

Read five chapters from Leviticus with many interruptions.  Slept.
We had chicken, vegetables, and rice last night, and rice and sugar
for breakfast this   morning.
I still feel my malaria a bit, I think, and the lack of sleep
from my experience of the night.
I had to speak harshly to some young people who came to disturb me in
the morning.

The afternoon was extremely dull.
I went walking in the village and
down to the stream. Was detained again on my way by Mrs. Al Katiri.
Coffee and a lecture on air travel by Devin.
I was overjoyed along toward evening when Andi returned from the beach
with news that two lone figures were approaching, but still too
distant to identiFy. HeretzandSolisa arrived with news that they
had found a perahu, but even smaller than MudaLawang, which already
seemed pretty small to me. Heretz seemed done in, but Solissa looked
fit as a fiddle.

Sunday, March 28, 1965.
Went with my police comrades to Pohon Batu. They on foot, and I arriving
a little ahead by outrigger with the baggage. There were porpoises frollicking
and jumping clean out of the smooth water near us on the way, and music
drifting out to us from the Kei Islander lumber camps. Immediately
after unloading I returned along the beach to the estuary to inspect
our perahu. I felt extremely disgusted, as usual, by the conduct of
the villagers. One lad from Ambelau even approached me with "word !
which I immediately detected to be typical native lies, that a ship
had arrived at WamSisi. You can imagine my disgust and frustration.
These little "goodieS are the things that make the natives really hard to love!
The perahu I found to be much too small. After my bath in the stream,
a couple of the crew members came by and they said the perahu
was really of only 2400 kilograms capacity, and that they were loading 2 cubic
meters of wood, and 100 tumangs of sago.  If we chartered the boat, the
total of men on board would be 12.  Furthermore, according to them, there
was no place to sleep.  I could see for myself that the winds were
uncertain.  What to do if caught in either calm  or bardaya?

On my way down to Pohon Batu from Oki I was privileged to see
porpoises at play.
This was after the tanjong.  They leapt, they ran in schools, they snorted
and they spouted.  The sun was fierce.

Returning toward the village, I
found a shaded spot on the beach, and finding it to be the Sabbath, and no
one in sight, I knelt to pray.  On rising I saw a man approaching, and
made haste to act normally. When he drew near, his heart apparently failed him for
fear, as he took off down the beach at a gallop! I shouted "Bara
heka!" and he looked back for a moment, but nothing could stop him.
I believe he took refuge among a party that was approaching from
farther down the beach to push the perahu in at high water.  I had
grown a little apprehensive as the man was armed with a parang.
Further on I was greeted by one of the group who said he was
the juragan on the perahu and from Ambon. Hassim, I think he said,
but am not certain.

Arriving at the house of our host at the village of PohonBatu,
I was immediately shown to my fill of sinoli and broiled fish. The
fish was not tasty, and had a strong flavor, like that of the raja
baor.

It was after this repast with Solisa and Sukota that I made
known my decision not to leave with this small perahu. At first Sukota
wanted to return to Leksula with me! but by pressure and persuasion
he decided to go on with his companions.

We were invited to a sort of reception at a local
Muslim wedding, and went up for a ripe banana, some waji, and a slice of
tapioca pudding with a glass of tea.

After this my comrades insisted that
it was absolutely essential that I take with me a letter from them to the
village chiefs of Meserete from Oki to Nal Besi, stating that I was to
receive their best assistance.
To this I agreed providing I should bear the note on my
own person.  The reason for this stipulation was so that I would have more liberty and not be bothered by
some native letter bearer and thus be continually detained and treated
like a captive. At long last I was handed the letter and was free to
depart for Oki with the two perahus that had brought the baggage of the police.

I was fortunate on several counts. First, before my departure
I was presented with a boiled egq, which would give me protein for
my journey. Also, I was not required to paddle on the return to Oki
as there were only two paddles, and the two natives could not bear
to sit idle while I paddled. This gave me the opportunity to get
some rest. Then, I was put down on the Oki Baru side of the stream,
and allowed to set out on foot on my own.

I seized this opportunity
to gain my freedom, and, after buying some matches at the Chinese
shop and asking there if no one were leaving for Leksula, I was on
my way alone to WanToto.

Approaching Leku I found a Butonese perahu of eight tons lying at anchore,
and a group of people on the shore.  They told me that the juragan had
gone for his bath farther down the beach, and I found him returning a long
way on.  He informed me that the perahu was bound direct for ambon, but
there was no  more room aboard as there were already close to 40 people!

I made haste to continue my journey, and felt the blessing of
God again when I was presented with a whole pineapple by a kind young
man who followed along to lead the way to the stream where the
juragan was bathing. His name was Gabriel. At the stream I was given
a knife and peeled my pineapple and ate half while talking to the
Kei boys, who were very pleasant. Gabriel was one of them, a Protestant boy from Kei.

Everyone seemed confident that I could make it to Wantoto by nightfall, and I had felt the leading of the Lord in that direction from
the beginning, so that I wasn't even too disappointed when I found
that the perahu was too crowded to take me on to Ambon. I felt a
terrific desire to be in church at Waenono that evening, and to see
Yunus Manuhutu, who had gone to and graduated from the bible school
at Kate-Kate since my departure for the U.S. in 1959. I therefore walked
right past Leku.

I passed many people.  One of them was a lonely tribesman right out of the
ancient Buru past, complete with spear, machete, and batik headdress, the
latter of which made him all the more striking and brought back nostalgic
memories of old Bacian.  I thought of the beach between Babang and Kampong
Baru and of The old man with the ring.  I approached him from behind
singing or whistling a little so that he turned round to see who I was
before I got up to him, and thus avoided surprising him by my unexpected
appearance, which might have ended in disaster for me.  His lips and teeth
were covered with red from chewing beetle nut, and his skin had that sort
of disease called kaskado, which is common among them.  It is a fungal
infection causing whiteness, dryness, and flakiness accompanied by a
characteristic odor.  And if I remember correctly (in 2004), on his wrist
was a bracelet of black akar bahar coral.  He did not run, but greeted me
with a smile.

Another sat
gazing at the sea, and bade me hurry as night would be falling.  He said
he was there to work his kebun.

The vegetation and general character of the beach struck me
as being very similar to that of the east coast of Johore, Malaya,
and I felt a surge of joy at the association. A longing for that
tremendous freedom of enlightenment that a man can feel in the
vast wildernesses of Malaya--those long, empty miles of beach, beach, and more beach and sand.

In some places the going was a bit hard, with only rocks and pebbles, but
most of the way was long stretches of open sand.  I saw numerous pandanus
plants along the beach, here and there a paku-paku palm, and some
casuarina trees which reminded me of Waimanalo, Oahu.

At last I reached a point where sand ended and cliff began.  These rocks,
I could see, terminated in the farthest promontory visible during my trek
along the shore.  It was here that I grew somewhat apprehensive.  I saw no
village, and night was fast approaching.

At the end of the sand was a small, half-dead stream, where I took a
chance and drank of the brackish water.  It looked very unhealthy, but I
felt I had better drink while I could, as I was none too sure where I
would be spending the night.

The sand near the stream was lovely, and looking away back eastward from
the cliffs there was a delightful open field, all parched yellow-gold by
the sun, and a curious metal object standing upright near the shore.  It
seems to have been some sort of belt drive wheel with axle, rusting and of
respectable size.  The wheel part had several rims which got smaller and
smaller toward the end, forming a sort of comical shape with the apex
stuck in the ground.

All of this formed a neat little cove, and there, lying at anchor was a
perahu about the size of MudaLawang or a little bit larger.  I shouted to
the  men on board, and they told me they were headed for Leksula.  I
couldn't hear them very well, but they didn't seem interested in taking me
aboard.  Instead they seemed to say that there was a path to Waenono
nearby, and that the village wasn't far.  Also something about the path
leading along the dead stream.  I went back and found it, but not without
some difficulty.  Then I thanked God for His help.

The trail led through the field and down across numerous small bridges
over the dead stream, which was apparently the same one I had
drunk from, and into the stream itself. There were numerous rustlings
in the brush, and I feared that someone must be running from me, but it was evidently just some animal of the forest.

From there up through
a wood, and all along the trail quite clear.  Darkness was fast
gathering
now, and I caught a large sliver in one heel. Then I could hear
the surf ahead, and was soon out on the beach at Labuan. There, where trail
ended and beach began I paused to remove my sliver, but could only
get a part of it because the whole thing was pretty rotten.
After finding people and questioning them, I finally arrived at the
house of Yunus Manuhutu under the direction of two lads who spoke to me in Buru, with
which language I am still somewhat awkward.
Yunus didn't recognize me at first, and to me he also looked a
bit strange with those clothes in those surroundings.  He was too much
like a Buru man.

I was somewhat disappointed in Waenono.  There was no meeting on Sunday evenings. When I asked Yunus about this he said that there wasn't enough kerosene for the lamp.  When I asked why not in the afternoon he said the people would still be working.  This after all my yearning to be in a Pentecostal service that evening.

Yunus had to lead me to Waenono Stream to bathe.  They have a delightful stream there, and it is against tradition for people to relieve themselves in it.  But we had to bathe with our clothes on because there were no separate parts for men and women.  Then back to his house and some roasted corn, as I had requested food before our departure for the bath.  It was dark when we got home.

I soon developed a strong dislike for Yunus when I found that he wouldn't speak to me in Ambonese, and I found the way he expressed himself at times to be unbearable. In all the years that I had known him I had always disliked Yunus a little, but thought that by now experience would have changed all that. Not so. I was disgusted with him. Yunus had changed, but not the way that I wanted him to be changed. To me he seemed to have become a rather black "Little Lord Fontleroy."  These are all personal first-impressions, however, and mean nothing.  But oh that Malay!  How it irked me!

We talked by lamplight until someone called us to Daud's house for dinner. There, to my delight, we were treated to a delectable dish of chicken cooked In coconut milk. Along with that we had papeda made from cassava and boiled cassava. Sleep was not long in coming, and after a few words with a fellow named Samson, I was in dreamland.

Monday, march 29, 1965, Waenono.
It seems Yunus is building a canoe, and when I arose Yunus was
already gone off to work without breakfast. I prayed, washed at the
bamboo water containers, and read from Leviticus. Just as I was about
through, Yunus arrived back and said we should be off to breakfast. We gorged ourselves on boiled sweet potatoes, and my disgust
for Yunus deepened when I saw the way he horded the fish that Ali's
son had brought earlier that morning after he had gone off to work.
I despise this one Buru custom as it is. They share the ways
of the Punjabis in separating the sexes during mealtime. The men eat
first while tue women serve. Everything on the table is supposed to
be for the men. If anything is left, the women and children eat it
later, usually in the kitchen.

There Yunus was, sitting across from me and demanding that his
fish be broiled. the first time they brought it in he said it was still
too raw, but it was all right the second time, after the cook had followed
his instructions. The fish was placed near his plate, and he invited
me to join. I became aware that he did not

request the participation of our host, and that our host did not indulge.
I offered some to Samson, our host, and he said, "yes", but
never seemed to respond, and ere we left Yunus had given orders that
the other fish be kept for lunch.

Yunus had already been planning to go to Leksula, he said, so he
decided to accompany me. We decided to go tomorrow, so Yunus,
Samson and I went to borrow Ali's kole-kole.
Yunus and I went home first,
and coming out found Samson on his way to meet us.  Yunus ordered him to
go back and take off his good clothes as he would be helping with the
work.

Samson rejoined us on the beach with a walking stick
in his hand, and we were all off together for Labuan, which is but a short way up
the beach to the east. There we found the Protestant guru (a friend
of Yunus') gone. Also Ali, but this was to be expected as he was working on a canoe in the forest.

I was introduced to some of the "Sidang" folk there, and sat in
the house of one from Wai Temon for awhile.  Yunus later told me that he
had had trouble with hobatan.  Sickness had struck his wife and child, but
both were cured when he got rid of his witchcraft.  It seems that he had
run off with his wife, who, incidentally was quite pretty, and had gotten
hold of some magic cloth as protection against
her relatives.

Yunus returned and we followed him up a fading trail through the
kebuns in search of Ali and his canoe. It was then that I discovered
for the first time that Yunus is hard of hearing. Perhaps this will
go to explain some of the insolence in his manner. He could not hear
the men working on the canoe in the forest; and when he finally did,
he couldn't tell from what direction the sound was coming. I could
plainly distinguish the hollow drumming of axe against canoe hull.
I corrected him direction-wise and we retraced our steps and entered
a grove of bamboo after some shouts and hoots, and I had difficulty
making my way through the many obstacles we encountered there.
We found Ali (the Butonese who had sent the fish by his son)
together with several Buru men busy at work on a medium sized kole-kole.
Ali was good-looking, bright, and very conversational. He is F
Butonese, but born in Ambon. According to him he has never been to
Buton in his life. He spoke of his travels to Biak and other spots,
and of leprosy on Bacian. As a lad he put to sea on a Butonese
perahu and traveled to many places In the archipelago.  He claimed that his Dutch master in New Guinea had loved him very much,
and that after testing his loyalty by placing money under the bed, etc.,
had entrusted to him the keys to all his goods. He said that his master
had taken him with him as far as Ambon, and had wanted to stow him
away in a locker to Holland.

Ali readily agreed to let us have his kole-kole for a couple of days
at any price the Guru (Manuhutu) could offer. And so, after Yunus had
gotten a little more instruction in canoe building, and Samson had
taken a few swings with the axe, we took our leave and returned again
to Waenono. I releived myself In the stream on the way near the beach.

It seemed alarming to me the way these men could work so close
together across the canoe hull and not get hurt. They were still in
the first stages, that is, hollowing out the hull by axe, when we came.

Returning to Waenono it was still somewhat early for lunch.
I spoke a bit harshly to Yunus, who is younger than Samson. On
the beach yunus asked if I would like to drink some coconutwater.
I said I wouldn't mind if I did, but was a little lazy when it came
to climbing the tree. He said never to mind that. He would climb or
ask someone in the village to. Well, I was sitting at his table
writing in my diary now, and "someone" turned out to be Samson.
This I could not take, and so I flatly told him that if he wanted to
drink coconut water to go climb for himself. At this both left the
room, and, after inspecting the coconut trees outside, decided that
there were no green coconuts in the vicinity.
They returned and sat down. Then Samson left. Yunus immediately
dove for a ripe banana. Funny. Samson was back before Yunus could
finish it, and so he had to offer him one.(He hadn't offered one to
me, either). Yunus gave also to his puppy, Ambon, but still none for
me. I rrote on, and then, pausing, looked round and said how about
one of those ripe bananas? "Oh, yes, yes,"and before I could reach
them, Yunus had broken one off for me. Someone followed suite, and
helped himself to one. It was about lunch time, and we were all a bit
empty. I seem to have an exceptionally ravenous appetite in this
country, evidently due to the low-protein diet.
and my we were called to lunch, and there was Yunus again
with his fish--boiled this time--over near his plate. @elll deer m
toward the center of the table was a delicious dish of dried
meet boiled in coconut milk, of which I partook with my fill of sweet
potatoes. ?hes I was forced to take even more by our gracious host,
who did likewise to Yunus despite his fish. I ate this second helping
with papeda. The coconut sauce was absolutely delicious, as was that
served with the chicken at Daud's house.

As we were eating, two men "happened in" who I immediately took
for Gentiles. I felt extreme disgust at their prying eyes while I was
awkwardly sucking that ill-made cassava-root papeda, which was much,
much too soft. They took their leave, but we were to be graced again
with the presence of the followers of the prophet ere the day was over.
We had not long reached the house of Yunus when he saw them coming.
He also felt a dislike for these creatures, and said that should they
come in we should entertain them in the outer room, lest they become
interested in his personal possessions.

Well, me, I left the pleasure of their company to Yunus, as I
was busy with my diary at the time. Yunus manifested tremendous
reluctance as a host. Came in and bade me appear once, then twice.
The first time I persuaded him to entertain his own guests, but the
second time he simply refused to go. It seems that I was obliged
to cut my writing short and give the Guru a helping hand. I had no
desire to indulge in idle conversation with these fellows, so I made
my appearance Bible in hand, and without further adoo began to preach
from John. Someone brought roasted peanuts in, and they ate while
they listened. Some were attentive, others disinterested. All grew
weary of my monologue as the peanuts gave out, and one by one they
found themselves occupations, until only about one was left. He stayed
on and listened until I excused myself to go into the room and do
some writing. I was thankful for the opportunity to testify, and indeed,
left blessed with my efforts. So@r nQ-,@c@ their he@@F in understanding,
and I sincerely hope and pray the@:thos:isee@isosm w@l@rnot return
empty. I read from John, Romans and Galations. I also related to them
the parables of the "Ten Virgins", and the one about the son of man
coming like a thief. They were evidently from Namrole.

Later in the day I went with Yunus to see his canoe. This one
he was building didn't seem like as good a job as the one sitting
in his house, which for some reason beyond my comprehension had never

Yunus was back soon and wanted me to go with him to get Ali's
kole-kole, so off we went in the gathering gloom to Ali's house at Labuan.
There Ali insisted that we join him for supper, and Yunus didn't seem
wont to refuse. You see, Ali had also brought in two very large bubara,
and the *@0 fish he had sent Yunus were only a small part of his catch.
Eat we did! Only regret was that his wife boiled the fish instead of
frying them. I could barely eat all that was offered, there was so
much. I was shocked at first by the large chunk served me by Yunus,
but in the end I ate even more. We had cassava root and cassava papeda
with the fish.

It seemed that despite (or with) all this two of our goals were
never fulfilled. One was to get a definite price out
of Ali, and the other was to get home before it got too dark for me
to see. It seems that for the former, however, there was a remedy.
Our polite conversation had revealed that Ali wanted some #4 or #5
fishooks, and Yunus knew that the normal rent of the kole-kole was Rp500.
Ali wanted Rp500 worth of #4 or #5 fishooks!
I never got a bath this night as everything was already too dark
for me to see ere we left Ali's, and I didn't feel like stumbling
after Yunus to the stream after rowing and dragging the kole-kole. Yunus
also felt discouraged at the prospect and decided to follow my example.
Yunus went to tell Samson that we had eaten elsewhere. When he
returned he said that Samson was feeling dizzy, and that he said that
it seemed to him as if the house were spinning round. Yunus was reluctant to go to Leksula without one more for the return trip, so he got
a lad named Yohanis to go with us.

Tuesday, March 30, 1965. Waenono to Leksula.
I thought that Yunus had set his alarm, but he later told me that
it wasn't working. At any rate, it was nearly five oclock by his clock
ere we got up. He has no way of setting his clock, so there is no
telling what time it really was. It was probably sometime after five
by the time we got under way, and that was late. I was already
beginning to see.
The weather was sparkling clear, and I knew that it was going to
be a scorcher. we paddled straight across the reefs for WaeTina Point
across the bay, and I found the bay to be filled with reefs, over
far to the point
which our canoe could barely pass. Indeed, we even struck bottom once
or twice.
Approaching WaeTina we got a fresh breeze off the land. It is the
tail end of the downdraft that comes swirling off the mountains and
down the WaiTina in the late evening and early mornings. We upped our
"sail"which was nothing more than a little piece of a kain or sarong
of red checkered cloth, ingeniously strung up on a framework of bamboo
ri@@ing. It wasn't small for a kain, but It was extremely small for
our large kole-kole, and I wouldn't doubt but what the little good it
did was more trouble than it was worth. I was very limited in my ability to paddle as I had the control of the thing, and I must confess
that most of the time just gave up.
I asked for something to eat, as we had had nothing so far, but
Yunus felt that we should wait.
The wind carried us far out into the sea, so that we passed the
mouth of the WaiTina at a distance.
I asked for food again and this time Yunus agreed. Breakfast was
our provisions of sliced sweet-potatoes boiled in a bamboo. Yunus divided the banboo into four pieces, and we shared three and left the
other. i knew that there were more ripe bananas somewhere, but didn't
ask for them.
After this, our land breeze died down, and Yunus steered in for
Tanjung Batutulis, where they tell me that there is an inscription
that looks Arabic. Yohannes turned out to be just about useless as a
hand at the paddle, and Yunus wasn't too much better. Yunus, however,
was steady, and he kept urging Yohannes to paddle, as he was continually resting. I protested and cautioned Yunus not to forget the lad's
youth, and not to look at him but just to take care of each man his
own responsibility.
he had been trolling all along, but after Batutulis we t
r

At last Yunus got the line untangled, only to show himself up as
a poor paddler in the center seat. They think that it is such an important job to do the steering, and yet I would rather have a little
child steer so that I can be free to concentrate all my efforts on
the task of paddling, which is what really gives the boat its propulsion.

We got to a bay where some perahus lay at anchor, and by now It
was really hot. Yunus was thirsty. He directed us to a place where
water came out of a rock, but we found all the water to be brackish,
perhaps due to the tide. A Butonese was there washing his clothes, but
he knew of no perahus to Ambon, he said.

Finding no green coconuts there either, we set off in our canoe
once more.

We put in at a grove but were warned against indiscreet
climbing of coconuts by a rather unhappy female voice from among
the trees. The second time we didn't stop until we saw a man walking
along the shore, who willingly agreed to let us have some drinking nuts.
Yohannes was up a tree before you could have said Jack Robinson backwards,
and we were soon quenching our thirst with coconut water and
enjoying the fresh soft meat.
we had a little trouble with the canoe, which shipped a little
water in the small surf.?@herb@@tdm@Yas _of chunks of sharp coral, and
pretty hard on her bottom. Also, in while we were asking the man if
awhile as he was winding the Iln-
we could climb some coconuts.
I had asked about _Ule bananas before this, and we had each had
one, and found them to be rather green. the other two were ripening
in the sun.
Before we left we found the other part of our breakfast, which
Yohannes had stored up in front without Yunus or me knowing. This we
devided and shared.

We left refreshed, and coasted almost all the way to Kase without
bringing in any more fish. Somewhere along I had thrown the second
grouper back when Yunus brought it in, as it was too awfully small.

From near Kase we headed out for Cape Kabat. I was surprised to see
how large Nalbesi looked, with its mosque in the center. Yunus estimates
the population at one thousand. If that be so, then according
to native estimates it would be larger than Leksula, which they told
me had only seven hundred. I feel that both must have many more than
this. Maybe these figures were correct sometime way back before the
war. I don't know, but by the looks of things it must be different
now. The Indonesians think of the size of a village in land area
rather than in terms of population, and foreigners are often confused.

We passed between two gorgeous little islets and the coast, which
was now nothing but rock wall. The rock begins somewhere after Nalbesi
and continues all the way to Kabat Haat. On one of the islets--the eastward of the two--there was even a low patch and, facing the coast,
a little stretch of sandy beach! The other was typical South Buru
rock wall all the way round.

We hugged the cliffs now, and I was amazed at how the sea would
be deep blue in places right up to the rock wall. What awful depths
must lie below.  As if the southern mountains of a larger Buru had
simply broken off and sunk!

We passed the entrance to a cave. It could hAve been the one they
tell about in Leksula. The one that is connected to a hole inland,
where the villagers claim to have seen big fish swimming.

It was about noon or so when we rounded Kabat Haat islet and headed
across the bay for the town of Leksula. The sun was so hot that Yunus
kept getting too close trying to find shelter under the jutting brows
of rock cliff. Over the aeons the sea has hollowed out a deep scar in
the rock face where its mity billows churn and thunder during the
east monsoon.
The hot sun! the usual throng at Leksula. I rebuked them and
tried to drive i off, almost continually. Oh, would that my day's
adventure had ended here! But no!
I took a letter from Heretz up to Bert's. They had just finished
eating, but there was still some left so they asked me to eat there.
After lunch I returned home to Oom Chor's and then went down for a swim.
While I was still in the water, behold, B.O.#130 arrives

ciOuS associations. Then there was this other    little skinny fellow
over by the rail (Michael, I later learned, a    Russian Jew). To avoid
lengthy descriptions, he looked to me very much like that "Maynard" sidekick
of Dhobi Gillis' in "The Many Loves". A short    little fellow.
The boat was very crowded, and the crowd    very noisy, and it was

getting a bit hard for one even to hear himself think. I had swung
up out of the waters and along the decaying rails on the starboard
side. It seemed that the little one tried to approach, but the crowd

ing around a lad with a difficulty who was standing on the outside of
the railing too, and asked in my native tongue if they spoke any English. The little one said, "some." He must be somewhat younger than me,
and seemed a little bit fidgetty. I said "Welcome to Leksula", but he
didn't understand, perhaps because of all the noise. His hand was at
his ear. I repeated, and he said, "Oh, yes. Thank you."

1 s@oald --@@1 I hak a@ready gs#$ @ @
the information I could out of the crew,
eAfl2'lni @@e so, finding en open sp ac@/r dove in and swam ashore. They said that

s@@ way I walked on up to Chor's house and rinsed off at the well, joking
the while about my two "relatives". Then I went up to Tinus' place,
V1+@ bo@@ where Tante Yo Gaspers and two young women were preparing to depart

@e@p@@el    late to make it there before dark. iqed.
S-@,@ba                                                       y's darkest hour ar@

It wasn't untill after all this that todl qed.
Feeling fresh and clean, and figuring that our two Russians had also
had time to get themselves settled down, I decided to go pay them a
friendly visit. I was the only other European in Leksula then, and it
seemed the proper thing to do. I learned that they were at the residence
of the Asisten Wedana, down at the west end of the village. I strolled
down, my hands in my pockets, and found that the AWE's house was the
big one on piles, near the big baringin tree. As I approached, my eyes
made out the two Russians sitting on the wide varandah. I had to scold
the following crowd very severely, and even turn on them physically
ere they would leave me alone. For some reason I didn't want to make
this scene with a mob of giggling idiots at my heels, even if they
were just kids. Hands still in my pockets,
I drew near in a leasurely fashion, my har
and as I was climbing the steps I bade our two "friends" good evening
in English. I cannot now recall if I had the oppertunity to speak to
the others in English or not, but the AWE was to waste no words of
cordiality on me. At first I thought that surely he must be joking,
as he said, "I nearly sent and had you arrested." "But why", I wondere@.
"You did not report your presence @ere to me:" "But..,I reported to
ever@ "ffice.." I be@an to count on the fin@ers of my left hand with
my rlght, "AWE, Police.., Oh! but it must hrve been thst my lord is
newly arrived:" (I rememberi iat the I had been told of the ch@nge
of A@Es since my arrival). --As if this might settle everythin@! --but

: Id the little one was putting i

The conversation was in indonesla8n, a]
in a word of support and a nod for the AWE here and there. Apqe@rantly
glad of the chanc@ to help disgrace me.
"I don't care: This i he bellowed, "Are you not aware that you
your hsnds in your pockets?" ;t: 1
are standinœ before the œovernment? Now! In the name of the law: 1 e
Take your hands from your pockets:"
That was enouvh for me! I was no illiterate Buruese to be lickinp
*           up the sod from thls little jackass' heels: I gaye him cold eyes and
chin! turned my back on the lot and started walking down the steps.
Pauslng half way I turned and said, "If you will be like that with me,
"           I must be taking my leave." I then bowed and turned to the little
Russian and said In English,. xcuse me." Then left. Walking alon@,
tsking my time, hands still In pockets, @owar@"h08@".
A couple of lœttle boys walked up with me and asked @bout my trip
to Oki. They were quite.polite, and I took them for the children of my
companions, as we were In the vicinity of the Police b@rracks, so I
related all. @d by a @L.;,.-,-
@ asked them the same of the AWK and was answe t. When@ sked wh@ "
@i@@"@e;$-P@ @@who was a@proaching @ house on@-anding. They toldme
I said that he:and I had had a little misunder.
that his name mas Palapesi.
The boys looked 'round and said that there were people followinp
from the WAB's. I said, "Let them follow:" Actuall@ld pan@c as I turned
Bnd jitter3, and now my e@prehensi3n turned into m:
and saw a rather large group of people following, but still some dis
            ;@iRCH 31, 1965. the

on the beacA Letween the red lamp to the east and the rocKs u@wl
point to the west. This lDtter dre@ immediDte laughter.
Date mgnin. "Pengumumun!" Anyone wishing to embark for #mbon b@
Our B.0,    motor-vessel must report first at the office of the AWE, and all
never       luggage must be checked by thePolice. i'n. Well,

showed up; As you can ima@ine, all this sent my mind reellng aE@

if this little dried rot of an AWE wanted to make trouble for me I

would escape toNamlea or, @ Geor@e, if all else failedl@muldpaddle
Too weary .yself to Ambon in some outrlFger canoe: but no..!

to bathe/

365.

l@ered m   ,.
          :s book on the Dead Se2 Scrolls.
the evening scrrice. Keri "ske@ mf ko speFk

ting. d @@ais. If I remem-

lis morning. The Spirit mov2 @ said
'd2y th8t I spoke about Yom and @eml9 @@
' tNo th@t I knew of th2t hed that t e of oall
;'s life (not in exactly those words' I think
"ok to just cry, but to repll@ take the work of

st8lled. Luke

Went to Ambon with Eill. the crr

"@te2. x*ension on my

me E three month nd when I turn
gr@tion @av me by my nickname, @ .

Ilow called

It wsœ James. Me Is

the man to be 2 K2lnFtu"soqethin

E
st r@@ty. Tre@ted him to et. Funny
him. He warned me about being dlscr@
We love you"9 and yet he knows thFt tbe commu
elt he was ne?r salvation. @ome to Kate2 by

l;mornincservice.Teteistheevcning.

in i        -
ch tod@S-                          lovely mittlr

tnc  afternoon.  Swam in a fresh.

11

ne"*   ike Water sparkling clear and
rTcrb@n@ strenm.torn @own where it used to flow

the forest all hi@eout long ago. Sa@-
W@cre I was building ti@@t '
Miki@nus' guitar in the k2mPon@.

' Climbed canarium tree- Had to hurry down tor

party today. ickeu up b@

lumbed ride and found I had oeen -found out 1@
2 @@ In@onesian talking to me OU@
;Nussian of@yledu9 a wordor two ofSuruese.
id has even

plc lan all the way in
inese. We t@lked in Indones lieve in
Told him I was sorry th@t he dld9'u ue
; sorry that I @id. He is a Jew- He is noN
remember correctly he was FoinF in @o@Fy to
s pl@ne bool@ing. There were also pnother Bussian
P- In town I saw Eng, InEgu, @se Bert Solissa.

"'    ent to Tulehu and foun@ an outri@Fer


ild Lis in the woods this

' I met Oom 010 If. Life difficult in that way.
to @elieve mysf t

liev@n@ myself. Had to eœcaTe In@v @L@ iv@vi

*           "   from the watching eyes of the children, who
r'             ow for about an hour, mFybe, after I was out
n a Very dry evening service.

an@ costomS. The lan@un@e is @en@, but

a@e 'ds.
rewember a few wo@
1965.

 F@IL,

Friday, April 23, 1965.
Tante Susi is gone to Aboru. I tried to find the stone altar in the forest
alone but failed. I found it later with Netong's help. Negotiating with
@nja to see the "3um2@ tu?", or nd@t @;wse.

(On the top is a pencil drawing of a square
stone slab, rough coral, fossilized, cut or uncut(?) mounted on four
smooth and rounded piles.  --Aman Ira, Oma, Haruku.  Below is a drawing of
a square indicating a nutmeg grove with the north arrow pointing to the
slab). I was extremely priveleged today to find a stone monument, still
apparantly intact, in the hills behind Oma.  It reminded me somewhat of
the stone in front of the Baeleo at Saparua.  It was a slab of coral,about
four feet square, mounted on four pillars of brownish stone, which seemed
to be hard.  From the appearance of them, the four pillars were cut and
smoothed to an oval shape (at least so from the visible ends).  However, to
determine if these were oval, it would naturally be necessary to see not
only the visible ends, but also the ends hidden in the earth).  I mean
that the pillars, above the ground, looked like one end of an oval stone.
The slab was of rough, fossilized coral; chalky and perforated, and it
would be hard to tell if it were in its natural shape.  One pillar had been
toppled,and the slab sat tilted and askew as I found it, but from the
position of the other three pillars, it was evident that the slab had
originally been more or less oriented to the four cardinal points, one
side facing each point.  Later, discussing the monument with Olof, he said
that it used to be in a grove of large canarium and durian trees, and that
he and others used to hunt and shell canarium nuts there, and that some
time in the 1930s, they had toppled it, and he had been present.  I was
told that the monument was used as the place for the village guard, where
he should sound the alarm should he sight enemy vessels out at sea.  The
place, Aman Ira, is said to be the site of the old village, which was
abandoned in Portuguese times.  The alarm was blown on a conch shell. I am
told that there is another stone someplace behind Oma with a conch beside
it, which was used as an altar on which damar gum was burnt.

...page
break...

Netong states that the corner post must be planted on the east
side, and Agus Manuhutu states toward the sea. Netong says the post must
be planted as the tide runs out, when it has reached the distance of about
one fathom from the high-tide mark on the sand.

(end of page 198).
...Page break...

April 24, 1965.
@as as@e@ ko @pea@ in C.@.s this evening. @Fsted lunch. Stu3ir@.
Slept. Went up and sat alone under a canarium tree. Met old Chorneles
Hetaria who knows Omaese Inn!@rce. Sqrqon cnwr out clcnr. Find it
difficult to fathom the @@r@neœs of this Inn@. How people could suspect
me of idol worship!

Sunday, April 25, 1965. Agus spoke on "the Temple of the Holy Ghost" this morning.
I was blessed with 2 good delivery ne2in in the evening on "The Invisibleness of the @in@@Oom".

April 26, 1965. @@EtV@ dcy. œo Fork on len@un@c. Tante @u$i still @onc.

April 27, 1965. Asked to 9rc@ch @@2in Ly @@us. 3orkcd with Oom @tj@. œot much uœQ.
Ue iv@c@ ver@ little inuce@. was blessed nr@in wi*L n good delivery on
the Spirit sn@ tac baptism of the Holy Ghost.

April 28, 1965. I dreamed that ni!ht tnrt I could see the stars in excellent clar
it@'- Dreamed of the sea rnu ships.

April 29, 1965. s@@@r@un@baito@ulp@w.Cn toA.mbon wherel @c@r@ tkptl @2@ a
rp@istcred letker,2tl;@@@2: To K@te@.@0 lettcr. Too@ ? h.$h Fn@ then
went back to Ambon. Slept nt SnT's.

April 30, 1965. paul can't even remember who he gave my letter to . Only that it
was from Morris, who should be sending my 7114.4r.@. No luck at P.O.
Had intended to leave for s8D2run. Slept 9+ Ka@@@,

Saturday, May 1, 1965.
Browns @09r to th. @rs2r in Ambon this morning. I
worked on my Aboru vocabulary.

SCS@AC, @. Feeling of tiredness this morning, shortness of breath.
ili@@t c@ills @vring morning service. Then fever. Took mnlrrir trh1rt9

after lunch. @ev@r iinallk hro@r l@tc etniT3t.Lunch wFslrtc ko@rir
a@ Fe @cre w@iting for @ rUcft W@o nrvrr sLosce u@.

Monday, May 3, 1965.
We8t after or@c2l of @cstcrd@>r. Late breakfast. 3srm hFth.

Tuesday, May 4, 1965.
Still not entirely well. Resting and reading. Went to evening
service. Feel spiritual emptiness.

Wednesday, May 5, 1965.
To Ambon. Still no letter. @15e now saw@ that s@c also s@% ? @2ctrrc
from Morris. Net @Ob Prlasoui2. Slept @t Snœ's.

c. go immi@r9tion. @oP?ul's.iict G@ruPrtik2wa, @olop, @@e go Wws@it?
on WFy to KFte7. from @rto@ I went to @u:chu trying to @ct to s2@arun.
Slept at horriLie, filthy (uest-@o@sc @t Tulchu. Bedbugs!

Friday, May 7, 1965.
That go fellow came and stood at my window and looked at my things
and asked about my socks. I got fed-up and gave them to him. They were
a pair of ordinary cotton socks. If I remember correctly they were
dark blue with a diamond design. Late in the afternoon someone
told me that Inggu had arrived and gone on to Ambon. I had failed to
get a motorboat to Saparua so I returned to Ambon.

@. Found Inggu at the bus station. Went with him to the "Hotel Anggrek"
(p?rkl;ot@@) 2ne talked with Cak. Saw the man who came over with me
on the plane. Then Inggu and I had lunch at Tante Eng's. I spoke at
street meeting this afternoon. Inggu made a confession to me. Was

staggered by his sin.I s@nE at C.A.s.l@iser@ of man. Terrible
imperfection. U nLe lirv@btv rr @ce. Boundless love.

Sunday, May 9, 1965.
To church with Tante Eng. Paul Spoke on "The @0@@ to Succrs@".
To Trnte T8@uletc's. Gift from @cr )Pe's mother). To churcn with jnp
af?in. Inggu spoke on "A Reason For Believing".May 10, 1965.
To Tulehu again. With Inggu this time. No boat. Returned to Eng's
embarrased. Ashamed because I have no place to stay. Feel a little
unwelcome at Kate2 and here. Saw Hank Risakota. Saw Yap. Went to Risakota's
but Oom Hank not home.

1?. Saw Loya. Sill and Americans at harbour project. œReceived money.
Muskita. Risakota.
May 13, 1965.
Bought an electric iron and some chocolates for Tans (Eng, Anna,
and Giok). Shopped some. Back to Kate2 on Bill's welcome. $2s at
Keri's house. Four tins of cheese costqc:@plO,O@O.

14. At Kate2. was forced to go to Ambon for the graduation ceremonies
this evening. Wem Sihaialatua graduated. Saw Topi! Received letter
from Mother.may 15, 1965.
At Kate2. Preparing a sermon. Got a ride in to town late in the
afternoon. Ate at the "Sejarah," amd place Tin2 Dulu used to be.
Had mi Kuah. Spoke on perfection in C.A.s. Met a man named Otto at

Eng's. Saw Fred Tehupuring. Slept there. My sermon came out clearly.
The reason why people li@c @rown can't understand Pi@rncp is
because they always hear a motor in the background.

Sunday, May 16, 1965.
To church with Tante Eng. Keri spoke on overcoming from
the letters to the seven churches in Revelation. Had an excellent
lunch at the"Gembira."On to KatD2. Met a Javanese from the Poka
project while crossing over on the perahu (outrigger from Galala to
Rumahtiga). I walked with him as far as where he stays at Poka, in
an apartment from which you can look out across the road over the bay.
His wife treated us to a delightful piece of Indonesian cake, and
coffee (I think it was). He had studied in Italy. At Kate2 tonight
I spoke on the unpardonable sin and pride. Bill slept through part
of my sermon, and I confess it was long. Francis walked out on me.

Monday, May 17, 1965.
Rainy. Tante Baba off to Saparua and Nusa Laut. Reading Dwight
Miller's "Forgotten Mysteries," and finished it. Eating well but not
enough of it.

Tuesday, May 18, 1965.
Brown family uses Rp18,000 per week for shopping, and @ry their
wash girl, Ata, Rp 1,500 per month. @ainy a@2in to@ay. Kcri le@ thr
evening service ah@ re@d from the Ps@lmœ.

Wednesday, May 19, 1965.
Went to Ambon with Bill. Trying to teach
Thalia the ukulele. Sandy was jealous and pushed her at me. She was
embarrassed. These two girls very sex-conscious and tense.

Thursday, May 20, 1965.
Bill gone to Ambon. Had delicious cherry pie. Chicken and noodles.
Agus manuhutu was here today (at Kate2). I typed out my"soul theory."

Friday, May 21, 1965.
Went @r Lo the church and sought the will of the Lord. Srn@p@
over a coin and flipped it. Decided to apply for membership with the
Assemblies. Wrote my letter of application in Malay and gave it to
Kerri for editing.

Saturday, May 22, 1965.
Was up before dawn and off with the Browns to Ambon. There we
picked up Teko Luhukai and went on to GudangArang. There I fell into
a hole in the planking on the wharf. Had been helping to load their
baggage. Let them go on to Laha with Teko. Went shopping, then walked
to Galala with Tante Koœ and Teda Yom and chartered a perahu across
to Kate2 for U@l;,t isJ. Sister Brown had told Martha to keep things
food ano @ifts ti
jUSt ns they were before t@ev had left! but @lreA@v yarthp hF@ Dut
everything 2way. The whole place looked absolutely different. She was
headstrong with me. Browns' flight was cancelled and they arrived
back and Sis Brown had a talk with her (An@ I don't remember if I had
beœun to have friction with nster then or not). They arrived home
about dusk and said that the flight was cancelled until tomorrow.

Sunday, May 23, 1965.
The Browns left very early, and I didn't get up to see them off.
At church Keri spoke on the parable of the house on the roc, and
there was a sweet spirit in the service, and the Holy Ghost moved
in the prayer service. I spoke on emotion In the evening.

Monday, May 24, 1965.
I am having a difficult time running ms house. The kids are
too playful. Esther and Thalia behaving about like a couple of
kittens might behave around a dog. Went to Rafael's house in kampong.

@@@k@ @œ@@"@%dt"l@k@lia about her conduct this evening. To Rafael's

Tuesday, May 25, 1965.
Hanes Sihaialatua slept in the house last night, but Yo is sick.
Had a good time of prayer late tonight. Down to Rafel's again late.
Found no oppertunity to testify.

Wednesday, May 26, 1965.
Trouble with Esther again for the second time. She can't or won't
MAY, 1965.

Friday, May 28, 1965.
Right tonsil extremely swollen and painful. Hurts to swallow.
Keri came and prayed for me, and from that moment on I started to mend.
Yap came with a fellow from off the boat named Effendi, who wanted
to sell me a radio, but I didn't want what he had at the price he asked.

Saturday, May 29, 1965.
Tante Kos gone shopping. Teko came with Bill's car. Then went and
returned again with the Duncans! Fred and I went on an adventure to
some place, but I can't remember where.

Sunday, May 30, 1965.Keri led the morning service and Oce spoke on "Liye from
God." I delivered an impromptu message in the evening service on Elijah's
trek to Horeb. Jodi wouldn't come except to the morninE service.

Monday, May 31, 1965.
Off to Ambon with Teko and the Duncans. Shopped with Jodi. Who
should be selling sugar and stop me and ask if I remembered who he was
but Kaimudin! We spent over RplO,OOO shopping. Fred couldn't get his
licence so Teko had to drive us back out to Kate2. We stopped and had
lunch at the Gembira on the way home and Fred payed. H@s@@%mx@axss@skm
Rp@@QOQx@nExAxsxs@@x*aaœy
Hannes Sihaialatua and Yoce were also at
the Gembira. The meal was fine, but Fred and Jodi were still unable
to enjoy it, and were worried about sanitation. It was also very hot
back in that little room. Fred gave Teko Rp1,000 for his services.

Tuesday, June 1, 1965. Fred and Jodi and I went swimming down at the quay the Russians built
at Guru2. Oom Paul Mataheru passed in his canoe.

Wednesday, June 2, 1965.
Too rainy to swim. Showed old McComber house to the Duncans, as
Willis', the new family, also from Texas intend to use it. We moved
some of the furniture to keep it from getting wet.

Thursday, June 3, 1965.
Went to Ambon with Teko and the Duncans. Fred got his licence and
drove us home but struck a bus (from Tulehu, I believe) and finally
ended up paying Rp15,000 for the damage it . He claimed that he
wasn't at fault, and he and the driver of the bus had an arguement
that might easily have developed into a fight. It seemed to me that
Fred must have been somewhat in the wrong, as it was at a narrow place
and Fred was really going too fast and didn't know the road and the
way people drive in Ambon. There was a Mobrig (I think) who seemed a
bit drunk (or crazy), and he insisted that the case be brought to the
attention of the Motor Vehicles Police in town. He seemed to have
rank, and people were afraid to go against him. Fred didn't want to
pay anything just because he was the foreigner, and wanted to have the
8hln take, and my council that it wDHn't worth it, @h?t with all the
might
heat ailU me?rines@! and rvervho@@' e@@"r to prthomc, he D9i? t@r man
t@e@pl5;,,enn G21,0@ 2nf $plonœ, and @e could easil;@:;3vv fli99ed @n@
rlace be
"11 hcen crushvn to (cnt@ on the rocl@e bQloiv. :t KrteZ we listene@ to
the s@ace shot over t@c r@@io.

Friday, June 4, 1965. 8vcrM@clminr rFiUS. Tirc@ out. Fla@ee"conccntration" with 3unc2n$
for t@eiirst Lime. We use@ the"scrrbbld'set.

Saturday, June 5, 1965. G2ve @uncaus a t@ste of tombon@ (coconut sprout)! sn@ Jodi snid thek
it had a sweet porky taste. You lulow, like sweet and sou@ pork: Someonc
gave us some soursop. It rained on and we played concentration.

Sunday, June 6, 1965. Hannes Sihaialatua spoke in the morning service, Frcd Fnd
I went fishing with keri's trident down at the 2uay at Guru?. We.got
one little"sembilad'thnt h@ sreared. I spoke in the evcning servlce
on Elisha and Joash.

7. At@ (Mnrtha! WES Snott@ to wp tod@y, nwd refused to @FnF curtnins.
Shr wouldn't cven @ns@er mr @hcn I t.kke@ tD hcr! but simplu i@norcd
me as if I didn't eYist. Jodi sai@ t@?t t@c furnlturc in the s@ttin5
room @1u1@ fFdc if k@c curt,ins w@rc left off, ?4d Sis @rown hF@ kol?
her to m@int@in v@er?rtLinTlh the Duncrns. Fre@ bou$@t @ kerosenc l@mq,
Eot Ata: I went to to@yn w: 'rs
rrobably becausc it was so cheDq t@rt he co@l@n'@ sffor@ not to. It ,
one of t@oselarFer ones! the hanFinF kind. It1?3son@,@somrtiinr @i$p
USj.5o or so, complcte @vlth s@a@c and nll. went to En@f. Tel@o wrnt honr
@itk US @@U took the car bFck. Frc@ is sti@l not rce@inc @c@!.
         - *r @Qu5. dWAL,iivs!

9. Trip@ buk f2ile@ to rent @@ outrl@p?r to t@@e @unc@n@ 9r@w,l@l'.
Wc @ikc@ u? ts k@c ..iL@ ?on@ from Guru@ (I @n? @rc@ and Jo@i). Then
do@n the Hitu roa@ ?s f?r as @cker Sua, @n@ nlonp the trnil. StFrte@
w@@ll kill you for thFt" hn@ines@ frow my wor@s ahouk thp Sinonito@
H@ok@e comc to s@u2ton!inke?.Of courœcl Fm hc2rtbroken ko seQ?@l
tke be@uti3 tLrt oncc wrœ, destrosc@. I love S?te9 so @uch. @o@n@ tkpt
sic!@lcs ha@ bccn r?i@c@ fro@ Sro@u's Irmrri in the office.room. T@ntr
@2b2 mnde F 500d frir@ chiclicn dinner, @ud it is won@crful to bp rLle
to rc2lly e@t, aftcr t@c slop Jo@i uscd Lo nu out. Sh. iœn't much ?s
:@ at @c@st not with tiiese m@terials.

a- CO@

10. %ent u@ to lookout in t@c morniij with @re@ but coul@n't seQ 7 s@t,.
Itins thclooi@out Lc@ine Hunut, frow whcrr sou c2n clc@rl@'ser t@c
aFr@our 8rca. @e@dinF "Whitq !!ilr". Hn@ c@cellent @unch. ient symmminr.
ClimLed to lool@out agrin hut sti@l no œrros@. Plryed conccntr?tion.
Won. Told Fred @e c6uldn't bcnt me pnymore, RB I hnd foun@ the systrm.
@e actunlly sotmrd@oout it.I!e los@2ud lost.

11. @ouue the @irls out using @:'"""'s mis@inc sicl@les on thQ rr2ss in
the e@rly mornin;. @antc @chr Uldu't seem to minu. @rnl the bQl@ to
@et the DuncFns u@. Listenen@ to tLc radio. Frcd vQut up to t;!e looioilt?
@ut coul@n't sec the@;Frose. @id@inT @boutlsillinc, rn@ m@yL. runninr
it into L@cœroun@ a Lit.L"@rliamisun@erœtoo@ nn@ rF@ off mit@owt
rinishing her luuc@, cn@ @r@tc @ji @n@ to comc rn@ ret hcr from @o:rn
L@ Lhe XrnFri tree. Jo@i @Fd tripd to t@@l@ to hcr, hut shc hn@ run.
s@e c2i@c h?ci for suD.er.

1?. Fre@ eno I 0;f to to@n fDr informntion. @is thin@s to @rrive on tLe
s@rosa witA @np@o2t. SawDelion (tje @pwaiian) an@tyepF. @q@@ht c@n@i.
COU@nn't ret hrttcries. CeLle@ @orris for @@@0@,090 more. Tnntc ?rhn

'       Fu@ rnnte @OF nlso wcnt, hut sen9rrtrl@.

Sunday, 13. ,!ul@ny-school on AicniF. T2nte .@i spoRe on "Suffer:np" in
the moruiu!=service. @rd no spirit to prn 9onDlulu. @oql@ gce L9 Boun@
noou. Dreqme@ aLout showinF @othcr rround
f@r Lclow! kut ncvcr @adc it to Alr @onnn cent@r. yost?lgia pbout
walking wlt@ @ot@cr down 01@ Hawaii. @anncs Sihnipl@tup s@oke in the
evcning scrvicc.

14. go town a@@ to the hQrL9ur. Ee@r@ the @ckAkr Is icRvlnr ror rrn-t@
tolnorroM. Got @cncrntor armrture rt i!aœn 1;uning on crc@it. Srourht it
@@me to @pte@ only to find thnt the old one @ns still nll right.
I mu@ freu we@t for @ ri@e in t@c cer u@ ?nst TelnE@I!odot on t@r @i@w
ro@d. T@c car strucli bottom Kever@l timco. It iA Bimply tQo low for
unim@roved roFds litc we @ave ncrc.

15. Fred @u@ I took Jo@i to AmLon with us this time, fqr Ee inten@e@
to send hcr on akead on the Sck?k@. Jo@i devQloped 2 he@@ackc from
waiting aroun@, so we srnt out to @@tu Tj@?eu. @-e@ climbed the roc+.
3e also found the entrance to the cave F Ilttle may up. Thcs we went
u? to MBPggaDua.It was about4Pkfwhen we left for Kate2 n@ain.

16. Went in to town @itL Fred. Sa@ Ve@a. @ekat? to 2rrive in khe evcnin@
a@@ sail tomorrow. 3ome. @cRdiny book"s we Tot2t s@op yester@s@.

17. Weut @ to lookout nn@ s?ip@ the @9rosr co@inc in throu@h t@c trees.
Fred Lr(lhlS hinoculprs.:ge went back tohouse rn@ t@pn 0;f to @mhon.
Foun@ the;(@ros2 @inc at anchor, tut she@r@oomQin to the@u@yl,
bcTorc we COUI@ fi@@ a kolc" or outri@@cr to t9kr us out to it. %nF
@n@ @OFt   @ort @as aboar@: @Qc @C@nk2 was also In DO@t hut Ve@@ @idn't sccm so
o3cay.   enthusiastic as beforc. Se tol@ Lim never to ming rhowt tnkinp Jo<i.
ac weat@omc to Krtc@ @I!CH tOOk@n@@oatoutfor rs@i1 nt:!rtserr in
tkc @ftcr@oor. ,

IC. U@ crrlY @ @ @ont. :e went over 0 t@c kwcrican rroirct n@ t.@ p
for Frcu r@u .n
cu@ 0@ coffee with %n@rc@s nne @@OL;lcr fcllo@". Frcd 11r@ to Dr," "@@nc@isi"
wp8O,OOC today. SctQ@@ ionc. 3c went homc. Flryed":!onoroly" and @o@i
won.
IS. go @.mLon rit@ ?rc@ eu@ @nC2ont, @till c9u@dn't sccm to get nnywLcre
on business of @ettinc @red's tLincs t@rou@h. @e wc@t p@@ bro@r@t Tcko
Luhukai ail@ :tus Grspers down but still c@uldu't scem Lo mrkr an? "ro-
; ess. @'r@u f@olis@l@rpaid outnnother @p97,000 to@Itl. @s vcnt swim4inr
@@NE, 1965.      -

SUHiUY, ;0. Kn@ Hoat preached in the morning service. Tante @aba
msde fried chicken for lunF@. Anis spoke in the evening serviee
(Hannes Sis@aialLtua) en@ J@di counted 98 times that he sai@,
8audare2ku."

21. To town. Got @illis' stuff t@rouœh by afternoon, but @red's is
still to be remeasurei. We were able to get @illis' volumc measurement
correcte@ epsily hecause his stuff is all drums. Felt verv ba? tovsy
W@en I upsct a cup of coffce by 2cci@ent as Jodi was settinr it 3own
beside me and scalded h2r hand.

22. Jodi's hend %p earantl@ not badly scnlded. Went in to Amhon. ?red
caLled œorris. went lookinT for a prqhu, but was never successf@l
in contacting a djurr@8n, as all of them seemed to he 2shore. Fred's
crates bro$es. @rou@@t screen rna six of 3illis' @rums homc to K@te".

23. @reamed vivi*ly of Geor@ing and Ju@y (Connet). Praye@ for M@rrays.
Weut ot town. Go@priceoT Rp2OO,OOO for charterof F",rrhu to @qrnatc.
(This because @red an;I @rowinf @isc;@iraAed with thepoor con@ition
of comm@nications bot@ecu here @uu there.) B@ his tim@, howevcr; ;,iB
hau succeeded in eottinl @ ?romise from Il@wallan Dre@rlnr to ha@
t@in@s up on thcir barFe.

24. @OW@ town again, but had no BucccBB in getting any@@inf @one.
He finally got someone to measure the crates, but by that time the
godown was closed. Got a letter and yacLaFe from andrews for @r0%n.

25. To town again, but Bekaka still not in. The godown was closed
today so we still couldn't get the crates measured. @n@ Sont's ticket
was confirmed. (We confirmed @n@@oat's ticket).

26. To Ambon early, with Sn2Uoat. Then to the harbour nu@ got ev@@i
t@inœ s@u@re@ Fwas. went bnct to Paul's and found @nrSopt there. The
plane not leaving today. He got a cable from Brown saying that he
would be coming today. ,,e ioun@ L.!rt Ata (Martha) had moved everything
around back home, r@k !otteo out all the goodies.

SUNDAY, June 27, 1965. Felt disgusted with church.

28. Stayed home. Fred went to town to rctt@c car rtTcko'sin t@r rftrr
noon alone. @e @ri le@t ii @lcrc for @ill: ""t he h@@n'k arrived,
and Te;;0 @2l'@l't out himself out to take i, none to us.

2@. deuL to tOM"U. @R1$ek to m2% @jlO clRim@@ to he CD4tpin of the
@ei@Fii@y ;Ot iOt nothing @Cfinite s@i@.

SJ. i-0 to@u ri@,@rc@. rr2ncis niiw@niy Erorwl n@@l:rr@ @n@ j;ranne
"Hillif arrivcu by plane at Laha eh@ ce@c on out Lolirte?on @Palmcroy
van.

i@@@@a@-,. u r@ca n@L /oL ricc. Wc@t for a @ikc sit@ ?re@ in the
7'0 towu Wl
$fieraOOi. Got ce=cat in Lnc rnin rt iirTinggelam.

y. 3re@and the servahtS-o@c Lo t:c9asar. I aq rcelinr@icaeicr's
"E2raii". !LRiu i@ the nfter1oori.

3. Prancis@e-t to@S@a tolneet @ill au@ we Fpite@ forhrr At@mhou
till @ste; but @ill @ii;n't come. (Francis aEiH@ry1rent to Lcha).
Still reading Hawaii.

Sunday, July 4, 1965. Translated for Fred in the morning service. He spoke on
Esther before the king. I spoke on 1 Cor. 13.

5. We stayed home;,_ the afternoon.

Went for a walk 1

-"

"'

-----

Saturday, July 10, 1965.

From my point of view there could be several reasons for my rejection
by the Assenblies of God. Among others:

a. If this action was taken on Brown's advice, his motives for giving such
advice could stem from:
1. A feeling of apprehension lest his plans for pulling out should be frustrated
by my future actions.
2. Apprehension lest I should become more important in the work than he, which
feeling might be possible in him in view of his constantly critical attitude
towards me, which could stem from a feeling of inferiority.
3. Distaste for the methods of my parents, and the possibility that they might
be reintroduced. (This possibility from conversation with him).
4. a feeling that I am not acceptible for the Indonesian work.
5. the purely childish feeling that "I'll show you, if you don't do it my way."
6, Prejudice against my insight into local ways, and my disrespect for purely
western ideas of dress and conduct.
7. A jealous, possessive attitude as regards the work.
8. A hopeless conceit.

Whichever it might be, I feel that it is definitely not from spiritual motivations.

b. If this action was taken by the advice of the missionary fellowship as a
group, there could have been many aspects similar to case a, but as a group I
cannot help but feel that this sort of decision would have arisen mainly from
an overly developed sense of superiority and clannish conceit.

c. If from the Indonesians themselves, perhaps a feeling of indecision or fear
or nationalism; but I strongly doubt that this action was the result of native
thought.

My feeling therefore, is that it must have been as a result of advice
from the missionaries, whose reasoning is greatly influenced by local dark-
ness, a feeling of superiority, a highly developed sense of self sufficiency
and self righteousness, clandestine struggles among themselves, and a general
feeling of suspicion and distaste for me because of my local upbringing,
which I take to be a great asset.

This I have said, not because I know, but because I cannot understand the
way such actions came about, and so I search for a logical explanation.
It is my definite opinion that the work in the Moluccas is now not advancing,
but retreating back into the shadows, however great the optimism that they
claim, for the battle is not physical, and numerical statistics mean nothing
without the power and the glory of the Holy Ghost. Where great steps are now
being taken is in the wilderness of Buru, and that being not at all the result
of present circumstances, but of the glorious works shown by God inspirationally
in the past. It is my feeling that the present state of affairs represent a
roof supported by worm eaten posts. This cannot possibly hold, as even our former
building which was well supported has slowly crumbled.  We taught them love, faithfulness, holiness, and honor; and they came and cut the women's hair and give them a permanent.  The young men to wear white shirts.  Apparently not much else.  The ones we left seemed capable and weren't.  To the spiritual eye, these don't even bear resemblance to capability, so how will they succeed?

It is not the symptom that must be changed, but the cause; and a materialistic attitude can't change that.  The most you get is a bunch of monkeys trained to act like men, and after while they forget the act.

An interesting quote: "The tombong has a sweet, porky smell, you know, like sweet and sour pork." --Jody Duncan.

July 17, 1965

Dear Mother,

I received your letter sometime ago, and was happy to hear from you.  I am
at Kate2 right now, with my visa due to expire at the end of this month,
unless the Lord otherwise undertakes.  I have applied for two years, and
the immigration people here have treated me extremely well.  They say that
I can stay in Ambon until I hear back, and I know that the Lord is more
than able to arrange all things, as long as I act in His will.

I am very happy to hear of Kim's progress.  Happy is not really the word,
as I prayed so much for him, and was so sad about his condition.  I even
wrote him about it.

I am very disappointed with the Assemblies, to whom I reapplied for papers
by letter at the '65 conference.  They have refused me again, although I
haven't yet received their letter.  Kerri and Bill say it is on grounds of
insufficient education.  Really, I can't help but feel them to be
preposterously conceited!  What with the intellectual refinement they
display. --Anyhow, my faith tells me that it is not necessary that I am
in the balance, for I feel that God, through His mercy, has led me here,
and whatever happens I know that He knows best.  I felt that it was His
will that I reapply, and I was more than willing to humble myself.  Also,
when I came here and saw the work I saw old friends and wanted to work
with them.  I felt that whatever has happened now, Dad and you started
this "Sidang2" in righteousness, and than to abandone it, it should be
better to revive it.  Now we have a lot of little donkeys trying to show
what big, educated men they are.  The result of their work will run to
materialism.  Other students showed promise, and they failed; how can
these that don't even have the manifestation of the Spirit succeed?  There
is also talk of moving the school.

I have contacted the woman whose husband was burned to death on the car,
and have proceeded to compensate for the accident.  Also, don't forget to
send a check for fifty bucks to Tan Gie Tong, C/O Atlantic Electric Co.,
269-271 Unchau St. 2nd, Cheong Fat Fty Bldg., Kowloon, Hongkong as soon as
possible.

I could have gone to Ternate to see Parsons about working with him, but
didn't seem to feel that this was in God's will.  Right now things look
dark, and I thank you for your prayers.  I trust and hope, but meantime
there doesn't seem to be much I can do.

Willis' have arrived, and intend to move into our old home.  She preached
a very moving sermon, but is one of those women that messes with her hair
and gets permanents, and I still detest that.  During the last month or so
I have been busy helping one new missionary, Fred Duncan, and his wife,
who are still here on their way to Ternate to replace Parsons, or maybe to
help them.  I get along well with them, but don't feel them to be the sort
of stuff that real missionaries are made out of.  He is 26 and she is 23,
so they are more my age.  They brought out a fantastic amount of junk.  32
drums and about 6 crates, and I think he said it was all worth around
$7,000.  Johan Hukom has been relieved of his duties after it was found
that he had committed adultery with his present wife, when his baby was
born about 7 months after the wedding.  It seems that some of the old
ladies got their heads together and figured it out.

I think that's the general picture to date.  Please write me soon, and
don't forget what I asked above.  My love and prayers,

(Signed Chaumont Devin)

Joe.

P.S. Don't forget to send the pictures you promised.  Greet Rod and
family.  If you write back A.P.O. don't use my name.  Use name on envelop
without "C/O".

(Written in the margin:) Lent 50.00 August 5, 65.

NAY, 1965.

6. I and Fred went in to town and got a drum of diesel oil and a
drum of kerosene. Tante Ci spoke on the faithfulness of Elisha in
the evening service.

7. Fred went off to town with seven more drums. Francis went to meet
Bill. I stayed home. Bill arrived at Kate2 before Fred and Francis
and said that the answer on my application for papers with Sidang2
Jumaat Allah was negative. The other two members of the Willis family,
Jack and his son Craig, have still not arrived.

8. To town with Brown. Talked with the juragan of the "KotaGode"
about going with her to Ternate. I want to go and have a talk with
Parsons. We took Browns and the Willis women to Immigration (We went
there with them, that is). If I remember correctly, today is the day
it was raining so hard. We gave some Evangels (Pentecostal Evangel
Magazine) to Tauran, of the Pertanian. i received a letter from
Mother today.
9. At home at Kate2, and reading Hawaii. They came and got Brown to
take Ance Tohata into town to have her baby at night.
10. I went in to town. Ance's baby was born. I tried to leave for
Ternate on the "KotaGode", but she didn't leave on time so I gave up
and went home to Kate2. Brown had to go to town again at night to
bring a boy who had a thorn embedded in his foot. Mary Willis is deathly
afraid of any thought of Dyanne marrying an Oriental, and they
intend to send her away to Bangkok for school. -
SUNDAY, 11. Brown spoke from Isaiah 44. I felt the leading of the
Spirit against going to Ternate. Hiked up past Hunut. Spoke to
Hannes Kapu. Also Mrs. Patikawa, the Guru's wife, who happened to be
visiting the village. Find little or nothinE in common with Browns
and Willis', and little in common with Duncans. Always feel out of
place. I am not going to Ternate.
12. Found Daniel Luhukai in Ambon, and he came with us to Kate2. He
was not asked to join us for dinner, but ate at the asrama. He wanted
to get me a job with his father. Went back on a truck.
13. Bill had to go to town 3 times today. Chinese man came to give
Willis' an estimate on the price of the furniture they want to order.
I wrote nothing in my diary the 14, 15, and 16.
17. We got Fred's belongings to the Hawaiian Dredging barge. Willis
and his son arrived. He is a big man, and I felt a little inferior
around him.
SUNDAY, 18. I spoke on the Lord's prayer in the evening service.
19. We found that Hawaiian Dredging's barge couldn't take Fred's
generator and stove.
No entries in my diary for the 20th and 21st.
22. I went for a long hike up that stream near Paso. They had dropped
me off at the bridge on their way in in the morninG. Walked all morning
and part of the afternoon. Stream goes right up into the mountains.
My feet suffered pretty badly. I was wearing a pair of white plastic
shoes part of the time, and barefoot the rest. Thought of native food
when I felt hungry on the way home. Want to make myself able to live
like a native. I got a ride with a Mr. Koraag of the Poka project
on the way home, and he was gracious to me, and gave me his card.
A delegation from Ambon came to welcome the Willis's today.
23. Fred got ......,..,(;1 Thermometer at 650 in the morning.
I went to Natsepa for a swim with the Duncan and Willis families.
Lost a race to Fred there, but perhaps I was a little tired from
trying to "surfride" on the sand like they do back in California
and Hawaii with a piece of board. Willis spoke in the ebening service.
_i rather dr$ mess N8Q@'s thought.
No entry in my diary on the 24th.
25, Sunday. Keri spoke on "Our Hands" in the morning service. The
others were gone to Ambon, but came back in the afternoon with Duncans.
It a bit sick in the afternoon, like maybe I was coming down with
malaria. œreached on God's faithfulness in the evening service. My
life is unhappy here.
26. Stayed home and read"Hawaii." Felt okay after night's rest.
27. Worked unnailing Willis' crates awhile. Started reading "Hawaii"
JULY 1965.

27. Worked unnailing Willis' crates awhile, Then started reading
"Hawaii" again, and got a severe ettack of chills which lasted till
noon and then was followed by fever. Ate and took NEVAQUIN tablets
after my fever broke into a sweat. Craig found his bowstring.

28. The car left early this morning with the Duncans, who came here
again yesterday but intend to leave today. I finished Hawaii today.
Duncans were successful and escaped.

29. I went to the Hotel Anggrek today to find Warman Sucahyo (Dr.?)
who had been to Kate2 for lunch when he stopped there from his hiking
one day, but he wasn't in. He had asked me to come to him at room #12
and promised me a papuan arrow. (Rather, we had arranged for me to
come to room #12 to receive it.) I got permission to stay on from
Bizar at Immigration. bought cloth. Back at Kate2 I shot some arrows
from Craig's bow with a student, Eddie, I believe.

30. Helped to roof Willis house (the old place down by the brook that
McCombers built, where I and Mother used to stay). Had a row with
Oom Cia, who is supposed to be in charge of the work. Salmon Patiwael
is trying to take over. He is supposed to have returned to the Lord.

31. Worked on Willis house again today. Willis had complained about
the way they had nailed the metal so that the eaves came out crooked,
and I tried to show them that it would be easier to align the sheets
from above, where we were working, as they were all exactly the same
length, but Oh no, not with that Solomon fellow around.  It simply
couldn't possibly be done! We argued and argued, and they finally
ended up putting it on at an embarassing slant, and I couldn't say
much because naturally, they would try to blame it all off onto me
if they could, and I didn't have much favour with the missionaries
just then, and they would be apt to go along. What to do? The way it
had happened was that the students had evidently felt the argument
was a good excuse for leaving, and they had all left. Then Solomon
took charge and was in a hurry to make a show of his command or
something, and lined the eaves up by the first two pieces
which had gotten crooked, evidently because the frames had moved a
little after I nailed them on, and ruined the whole thing, making the
west end a lot higher than the east. (For some reason or other Willis
never seemed to say anything more about this. Maybe he didn't notice).

SUNDAY, AUGUST 1, 1965.
Willis preached in the morninG service on the feeding
Keri spoke in the evening service.

Monday, August 2, 1965.
I didn't work on the roofing today, so as to ease the confusion a
bit. Played around with Craig and Keri's canoe. Teaching Craig to steer.

Tuesday, August 3, 1965.
I worked all day making a double paddle in the godown. I called
Cia in to see what I was doing, but at first he didn't even seem
to notice anything strange. It worked okay, but got instant disapproval
from a student. The same old thing. The Ambonese can't stand to see anything new or different.

Wednesday, August 4, 1965.
I stayed home today and reed from Herman Melville's "Moby Dick."
i helped a bit cleaning Willis' house. Sat talking to Cia on Mother's
old _divan (the one that had been at Kate2 since we came that time
after the war), and he was telling me how he was happy that they
were getting finished, and that things were looking good, etc. I was
shocked in the evening to hear that he had died, evidently of a
heart attack. The old man had been suffering from tuberculosis for
some time.

Thursday, August 5, 1965.
I went to town today and got some ringworm medicine, chocolates,
and three pairs of BVDs. I also bought an English-Indonesian dictionary
for Ishbak. We buried Cia up on the Hitu road in the late
afternoon, after dry funerary ceremonies. I wanted to go in and
comfort old Tante to, but there were too many people about, and if
I remember correctly, one or so even made a wizecrack and laughed.
They had opened the coffin to get a picture of the corpse earlier,
and there had been some knothead that tried to stirr up a great row
about it. I felt sad, of course.

Friday, August 6, 1965.
Found out that I had been cheated on the BVDs, for they had
wrapped up a type inferior to those they had had on display. Today
is Bill's birthday. I spoke on "Master orSlave" at CAs, and we had a
party for Bill afterward.

Saturday, August 7, 1965.
Reading "Moby Dick." I tried to make a handle to replace
one that got broken on Willis' refrigerator, but
it split at the last. Had ice-cream! Got my hair cut (by Sis Willis?).

Sunday, October 3, 1965.  Started off from Kate-kate yesterday early.
Paddled to Paso without wind.  Hired 2 boys to help carry her across for
Rp 1,000 each.  Drank coffee with fellow from GPM who was on his way to
Hutumuri.  Forgot passport.  Had to return, so left perahu, and went up to
forks.  Spoke to Mobrigs.  Went on, and was speaking to children when
Willis arrived in his panel with the gong*.  Reached home just in time for
lunch, and then coffee, which did my heart good.  Got truck back from
Durian Patah, and arrived in time to find my perahu still high and dry on
the beach at paso.  On the way I had bought dried fish and sago.  My
things were all safe, and I enlisted the help of some boys to lift her out
into the waters.  I had trouble with the sail a little way off, and after
fixing that, I found I had lost paddle.  I returned and asked people to
look for it, but without success.  I pushed off again using a short spare
paddle this time, and leaving my sail down.  I paddled and pushed until I
reached Suli, and there I stayed with Beng Munster, a first cousin of Paul
Tehupuring's.  He and his wife were very kind to me, and one of his inlaws
came to visit and speak to me.  She was Tante Lala, who had followed
Mother's meetings at Saparua (her first campaign), and subsequently joined
the Adventists, and was anxious to prove herself right.  We never got to
sleep till late, and old Munster and wife told me all about themselves.
Monday, October 4, 1965.  Left Suli yesterday about 8 AM.  No wind till
past Tengah2.  Tried to use fish line, but it got tangled.  Couldn't
bother with it, as wind came up.  Wind came up in a big way, and I soon
found it very hard to steer.  I was not too long in arriving off Kabao,
where I misbalanced, and capsized.  Seas were pretty rough, and I somehow
lost my tudong, my dipper, and my brand-new ten rolls of 350 lb line in
the confusion.  I succeeded in bailing her with the paddle, and, after
raising the sail again, made it into shore.  There I rested and dried out.
 Some villagers came out and sat with me for a while, and one old man
asked me to read to him from the Bible.  A girl came out, and spoke to me
before I left, and she seemed a bit bright.

I packed up, made repairs,
andshoved off.  I raised my sail in the grips* of the wind, and soon I
was off Kailolo, where I lost control, and couldn't keep my stern to the
seas, which were fairly rough, so that my canoe swung around and the mast
split before I could get her back into the wind.  Down sail.  Paddled on
around Cape Kailolo, and entered calmer waters.  Wind quartering now, and
upsail again just as wind shifts around to head-wind.  Down sail.  Rowed
on with my short, spare paddle, and got some whispy tail breezes, so upped
sail again for awhile till just before the next cape, where the head-wind
blew strong again.  Sun getting low by now, but still wanted to push on to
find a better beach.  Passed beautiful lagoons, one ringed partly with
houses on poles.  I punted my way along now, and couldn't find any good
beach till Pelau, where I arrived at dusk.  The beaches were all too long,
and covered with sharp rock.  I felt indeed unfortunate to reach Pelau at
that time, as the whole day was already unfortunate enough as it was.  The
whole thing proved to be even more unfortunate later.  Pelau is a Muslim
village, and I was not too well received.  People came crowding out and
you could hardly move without stumbling over one or another.  They were
all dreadfully noisy.

Someone led me up to the village official's house,
and his behavior was rather cool and indifferent.  He insisted on seeing
my Passport, even though I had to get sand and water all over the place to
get at it.  My real trouble, however, was not to come until the arrival of
the local chief of police.

He insisted on seeing my Passport too, and
forced me to go to the trouble of getting it out once more.  He asked for
police papers, and I said I had none.  He soon became downright nasty and
difficult to deal with.  I told him that I was informed that a pass was
unnecessary for Lease from Ambon.  masses crowded outside.

He took me to
the barracks and there I fared a bit better.  There were several others,
and the chief of police led the conversation on to spiritual things.I had
a splendid opportunity to testify, and made good use of it.  My audience
seemed very attentive and intelligent.  I was surprised by one Usman
Latuian, from Pulau Tujuh, who asked if I weren't Sis Devin's son.  I
delightedly answered yes, and on the conversation went from one spiritual
subject to another.  I and the chief ate, and then talked on, and never
got through till 12:30.

This morning, I was stirred by a rooster crowing
right beside me, and after that, the nervous cackle of a hen, that someone
came in and took away.  I went down, and washed, but arriving back, the
chief said I wouldn't be going anywhere today, so I might as well go down,
and bathe, and wear his clean tee-shirt, which I did.  He said I could go
tomorrow.  After breakfast, I was summoned to his office, where he
complained more about how I should have first cleared with police at
Ambon.  Then he said tomorrow I would have to return to Tulehu with my
perahu in tow of launch.  All this was a bit hard on me, of course, and I
let him know it.  For some reason I feel a strong distaste and distrust
for this man.

While still at the office, Usman happened by, and invited me
up for some baked fish and colo-colo, which invitation I gladly accepted,
and stayed there talking till afternoon.  Then I went back with Sahetapi
(chief) who had joined us, and had my real lunch with him, after which I
turned in to write my diary and relax.

In the later afternoon I went
down, and used the stream for reliving myself.  Went back to Sahetopi's
and tried to pray and rest, but was soon called for a cup of coffee.  I
sat for awhile with Sahetapi, but felt I had said too much already.  I
went in, got my Bible, and sat reading by him at the table.  After awhile
he left.  Outside, the boys were sitting and singing with a ukulele.  I
sat with them awhile and played and sang, trying to be friendly, but at
the same time not allowing them to be over-familiar.  I had a bath at the
stream, and then went in and lay down again, still weary, and without
thought for speaking on *(Do Katipana Tanggelisa) to my hosts that
evening.  As it turned out I ate, and then turned in rather early.  Before
dinner, they brought in a boy from Haruku who had got pretty beat up at
Rohomoni.  The Rohomonis were quarreling with Haruku over land, and they
had caught him on the disputed area, beat him, and brought him in to
police at Pelau.  _* "Mantri" was "examining" him.  The "Mantri" was to go
on to Hulaliu that night, so I asked him to tell Topi the situation I was
in.

Tuesday, October 5, 1965.  Sahitapi got me up early, and I ate
breakfast with him.  Prayed over him and wife before leaving.  Escorted to
perahu by D. Katipana, who remained with me till Tulehu.  I helped ready
my perahu.  Got my sail and gear back, and they brought it on to the
Tanggelisa, which was to take us to Tulehu with Matangitonga in tow.  We
found ourselves early at the perahu, and I opened my tikar mat to protect
us from the blazing sun.  Everyone who possibly could share* it, and
Katipana only ever seemed to get partly covered, as he was on the end.  On
the way out to the Tanggelisa, I saw Usman Latuian in his canoe, and
thanked him for all his kindness, and wished him well.

At first we got no
wind, and the men pushed Tanggelisa along with poles, putting tthem aside
and resting whenever a slight breeze came up.  But once we were past Cape
Kailolo, there blew a steady south wind all the way to Tulehu.  We had to
tack about twice, but Tanggelisa did remarkably well, and we even passed a
big two-master, which couldn't ever seem to get past Kailolo.  They (the
two-master) beat furiously on their gongs as we came about together, but
our little junku leapt ahead, and left them like standing still.  Katipana
requested a Bible, and sang church songs a lot of the way.  He was once at
____*.

We arrived at Tulehu around 2:00 PM, and I was delivered into the
hands of the post Police, and a man named Manuhutu said not to behave like
a foreigner, as he knew good and well I was Moluccan through-and-through.
He said I could go, and helped me get a truck, but as I was waiting, a man
named Kostiono showed up (one star) and forced me to go with him to Ambon,
and leave my perahu behind.  He led me to the buses, and soon began asking
me about the Lord.  I gladly testified to him, and he gave me good
attention and respect.  After I had asked him about the situation, he
said, "Man proposed*, and God disposes."  (or deposes?)  At Ambon, we
boarded becaks, Kostiono in one, and a young fellow named The, I think,
with me in another.  This The said he was 23.  Mother Ternate, and father
Chinese.  Many relatives in Bacian, but didn't seem to know me from either
place.

We were taken to a house csomewhere on the makai side of the road
between the cemetary and the bridge, and there I was introduced to a D
Rus*. Istambah, who interviewed me, and finally told me to return with
Bill in 2 days time.  He had a steward who was middle-aged and balding,
and seemed to exhibit great budi from his ma___* as she* served us tea.
From there I went to Paul's, and informed him of all that happened.  I got
four gogoses on* the way, and gave them to Else.  From there to where the
Canton used to be for chow, and after a fruitless search in the gathering
gloom, I found from a barber that it no longer existed.

From there to
Tante Eng's by becak.  There I ate gado-gado and other goodies, and slept
on Anna's bed.  Tante Eng seemed well.

The night was very hot inside the
closed house, and I had a miserable night.

October 6, 1965.  We had
gogoses for breakfast, and after talking with Tanta Eng awhile, and Hiok,
and Yo had left for pasar, I went police, and talked to Yoris, and he said
to come in tomorrow with my papers, and he would make sure all was in
order before I went up to Istamba.

From there back to the church to get my
basket, and then on to Kate-kate by bus and perahu for Rp 1,500 from
Galala.  Just in time for tea at Willis house.  Bill seemed decidedly
pleased to see me.  He had a grin that he couldn't seem to control.  They
had nerwes* for me!  No one had known what anything was about on Haruku,
but I was finally able to get the facts, and they turned out to be
different than I had expected.
 I got a bath and changed clothes.  Went with Willis to Natsepa and Hitu
in the afternoon.  Was tired.

Thursday, October 7, 1965.  To Ambon with
Brown and Willis.  No money at bank.  To parigi Lima.  Yoris.  Yoris new
chief a real wiseguy.  Said for YJoris to tell me to knock first next
time, when I was only following Yoris on his instructions into the office.
 However it was, they gave me new papers to show to Istambah.  Yoris asked
about this question.  Willis, of course, seemed worried.

From there on
to Istambah, to whom we were introduced by Kostiono in an outer office.

He
led us back to his own office, from which direction we had been led away
by Kostiono.  There he asked if we had not heard of the new regulation of
July 24th, under which no foreigner, with the exception of red Chinese
residents, could travel outside the city without special permission from
him or his assistant if he were not there.  We said no, and after reading
them off to us, and I translating them to Willis, who sat in the middle,
he seemed more or less through with us.

I had heard from Salmon that the
information service had come to the Kampong last night, and said that the
CIA was behind Ontong's* behavior, which resulted in the death of the 6
generals.  Istambah answered with a smug smile that if the "Penerangan"
said so, it was true.  Bill said he didn't believe it, and Istambah
corrected him that it wasn't that he didn't believe it, but that he didn't
know.

From there to Pasar (for sage instead ofrice which was Rp 300,000
po---*ack) after stopping at church, and picking up Oom Tos.  I bought 4
tumangs for rp10,000.  I also got eight glasses of shelled peanuts for
2,000.
  On home to Kate-kate.  Paul and Souisa had lunch with us.

Can't go get
my perahu at Tulehu, as I have to wait till Saturday before Istambah's
office can get around to issuing me a special pass.

Ambon, December 6, 1965.  Tante Eng spoke of deep resentment toward
Mother among the people.  They hated "rough" manners, and were glad when
she left.  Now people are in accord whatever is done and there is unity in
their actions.  Mother was always opposed to everything anybody did.

Paul
and the elders once sent a message of complaint against her to Carlblom.
It seemed discouraging to me to think that that was what she got for her
20 years service.  It brought home to me the thoughtlessness of the
Ambonese.  As I look upon myself as something less in the way of faith, I
can't help but wonder what result my own work can possibly bring.  It is
indeed difficult for one living elsewhere to understand the motivations of
the Ambonese mind.  I fail, even though I am here.  My only guess is an
abstract unconcern with reality or life, but, you see, even now, I cannot
use any definit terms.  I came here with love, but their countless insults
have gnawed my heart away.  If I were half as thin-skinned as they, I
would be long dead of a broken heart.

MONDAY, DECEMBER 13, 1965, AMBON.
Eng has a deep hatred for me that I cannot understand.  I don't feel at
allwelcome in her home.  As far as I can tell she has nothing to base her
feeling upon except perhaps the fact that I simply refuse to close the
window at night.

No, I think it runs deeper than that.  There was an old Chinese woman
here named (or rather called) Anjim.  She was decidedly pro red, and has
subsequently left for Peking.
While she was here she asked me how a terrible man like Johnson could lead
the American people into aggression in Vietnam on the one hand, and
profess Christianity on the other.  I never imagined all this would have
any effec on Eng, who has even been to America and lived in our home
there.  I felt somewhat shocked, therefore, to hear her speak in defense
of Red China at the table one day, and how there were also churches at
Peiking, etc, etc.  She must have heard a good deal more besides, by her
conduct the past few days.  As a matter of fact, I seriously doubt her
state of grace.  I can't understand it beyond this but here are the things
she wears about her.

She seems to desperately hate me to have money for my
own.  She rebuked me one day for buying Nescafe and milk.  She hates me
(apparently) because as she sees it I have no work.  She despises me
(maybe some of Anna's work here) because I refused to go to Bible school,
and apparantly wants me to go "home".  She repeatedly comments on how I am
not SUSA in any way, and how everything comes easy to me.  (Not that she
doesn't have plenty herself, or that I haven't been faithful to give her
money now and again, which she would not accept until forced, and
sometimes not at all.  She wants to know everything I do, and how much I
pay for whatever  I buy.  She is terribly high-strung and cantankerous,
and tries to tell me everything  to do. (even what clothes to wear, when
to change them, when to bathe, etc.)  Whatever her reasons I don't know;
but this is clear:  she has allowed herself to come under hate's control,
and hate can find a thousand reasons.  Especially to the simple.  They
never see beyond the surface.
They cannot see our gloomy shadows.  They cannot see the terrible hunger,
ffailure, pain, exhaustion and sorrow which was our daily bread on the
road.  I am not good at boasting.  I love simplicity.

For the Ambonese it is very difficult to realize or even think that there
is any real world beyond the limits of Indonesia.  That is part of the
world of dreams.  This is the only real world, and the world is obviously
on its last legs.  The times of terrible troubles have come, it is the
"last days".

Lands are countries, countries are allies of other countries,
but islands are worlds.  Ships are magic, romantic things that appear out
of the vastness with cargoes that man could never have created.  Things
from FACTORIES, made by MACHINES, in a land called never-never, where
there is limitless supply of both cargoes and the money to buy them with.
White men need never work.  They simply ORDER anything they wear from
AMERICA or EUROPE.  White men are hateful, lazy creatures who don't have
to work because they automatically  have access to the unlimited supply
but refuse to bive people anything because they like to be gib shots.
White men don't feel emotion  like we do.

Here we have the key to the cargo-cults.  Someday people will find the
secret and be able to get all the cargo they want.

Beware, o white man!  Educated people can also join cargo cults, and they
have magic to make the white man really worry, because what they say is
real sound education standard material.  Or haven't you heard of
COMMUNISM?  That will put an end to the white mans high-handedness once
and for all!  Now we know that the reason the white man can get cargo is
because we're doing all the work!  Simple!

Sometimes people don't realize how hard it is for a sane man to keep is
values in this type of environment.  I have to remind myself of our
national surpluses to make myself believe I'm not living off what Uncle
Sam swiped off some innocent farmer in Vietnam! (Pardon a little
exaggeration)!  The desperate frustration of the situation.  "Yes. we've
heard that story before."  White men succeeding in life because of hard
work just doesn't make sense.  The other does.  Beautifully, simply.  It
explains everything.  It's much easier to believe.

In these struggles for light it is difficult to understand--to
comprehend--the vast mental development of Musa, some 3,500 years
before.

January, 1966.

Monday, January 3, 1966.
I had a terrible time trying to get my money changed. The banks were ja '
i - @ed to the gunvales, and nobody else would do it. Finally got it done at the P.O. after a
tiP fro@ Paul. Lost 2 games of chess in the afternoon. I had a hard ti@e trying to find so@e
thing for the pot-luck social that is coming up ton@ght. Tsnte Eng went and got 2 sa@ple
cookies that ordinarily se@l for @p.250 @a. (old money), and they were horrible little things
with hardly any flavour at all. I bathe@ at T@nte Eng's, bought some kue teran@ bulan and
brou@ht it to the church as @@p my part of the doings. Willises and BroYns all came to the
Sathering, and I sat next to Bill. They a@ked me to sing so I sa@@ "When Jesus Co@e@" in @ng.
It @as all prett@ geed. I rode in Willis' truck as far as the forks near the G@@bira at
Mardika. I had bought ten New Testa@ents after I got my @o@ey changed tod*y. A fell@w wanted
to buy one so I sold one to hi@ &s I was entering a beca near the P.0. I also gaTe one to
Yahab, the fellow fro@ Pelau. Arriving home now at@he @usta@u place at @@rdik@ and finding
"      Pa Liwao@ in a religious @ood, I @ave hi@ one also, with my address written inside. I still
have to dress my wound.

Tuesday, January 4, 1966.
Musta@@ @lace, Mardika, A@bo@.- Had bre@kfast at the Ge@bira on @@2000 (old @on@y)
worth of credit. To town. The cleaners had a backlog and wouldn't accept my l@undry nnless I
@anted to wait 7 days for it. I saw Wahab and made a date with hi@ for 1:30 P* to@orro@. I
str@ck an insolent yo@o@ster np the @lley fro@ @oko ABC and dropped my taperecorder in the
process. I went to E@@s and then on to the office of religioa *t Benteng, but @r. L@@u@eten
wasn't in. Went back and checked @ail at the church but found none, Then to @ag's agsin
where I enjoyed a chicken-cnrry dinner that Tas Tery good. At first she said it was @or @ew
re@r. Then she decided that it was a farewell dinner for ay depart@re to Saparua. I get a
fellov nam@d Pste t@@@ at breakfast this @orni@@ who says hs is tuan @ana or n@geri or so@e
thing of Liliboi. He wss ser@i@@ @e at the Ge@bira. It was v@ry ho@ todaJ, but with @ breese.
I @ou@ht a notebook for my diary, Went to the harbour and saw @ince but felt @nwelcome ther@.
I get Latuian of my t@@p to Pelau and went with him to the raja of Pelau's house. @e chan@@d
to @eet the p@rents of Niko Rajawane as we Talked on past the @osque, Paliwang left in my a@s@@a

Wednesday, January 5, 1966.
Had a rotten night. The heat and the mosquitoes were terrific. I had go use
the W.C., and wiped @yself pith @edical cotten b@canse I had neither T.P. or w@ter to do it
any other way wi@h. A@ alone @ith Pa @iwang gon@. I ohecked for sail but found none at the
church. Heara that Sp@*@i@ B@o@@s had b@en th@re @efore se. @Atulesia drove up beside my on
mT tay to the bank *nd b*de me g@t i@. He vaited for @@ at the bank and drove me on to his of
office *bross the l@ne from the Office of @@ligion At B@nten@. I w@@t to find @atu@@ten @ut

failed again. M@@ule@ia and I then went b@ck to Dr. Ong's where we had a long chat wi@h "
Mrs. Ong, and I got to t@stify. Had 1 at Em@'s and waited for Wahab but he f&iied to show
@p.Iw@ntand-gothi@&@dbrought 3EQg'sYithmewherewedidsomeworkonthePel@@ i
language. I had supper at Eng's, B@@h;@, Went to Dana's (Mataheru's girl) where I met a fellow
named Barm who spoke fine English.

Thursday, January 6, 1966.- No mail at the church again. I had coffee at Sahertian's and he invited me to
join his organization. Saw Berhitu. Went to the Catholic church. Rutges, Strater and an
Indonesian priest were off to Kate2. Still no mail at the church. Had capcai kuah for lunch at
the Gembira. To Mustamu's. Priced rooms at the Waisisil guesthouse. Singles were Rp5500 per
night and dormitory Rp2750 (old money). Then I went to Tante Tin's, where the two American
Peace Corpsmen stayed. Saw @@@@ at hie office beside the Waitomu on Tana Tinggi Str. Bathed at
Mataheru's. Played on Teti's guitar and broke two strings. Bain. Went back to Tante Tin's.
She had a fine room, bath, and settee room and only wanted Rp2000 per night (Rp60 new per mo.).
I am moving in tomorrow! I went to the Raja Latuconsina of Pelau's but he was gone to a
funeral. There was a terrific rain. Walked to the bus station. Home to Mustamu's. Supper at
the Gembira.

Friday, January 7, 1966, Ambon.
I went with a fellow called Oom Sun to see a ship's chronometer at a
Chinaman's. Oom Sun had told me the price was Rp500. The man who showed it to me wanted
Rp1500! I psid @ustamus one nev rupiah and for one more I loaded my things onto a beca
and made it to Tante Tin's house. my new hose. I was broke so I borrowed Rp20 from Tante Eng.
Still no news on the money sent to me on Dec. 4th. @-@e4-e@-W@@-B@ks@e@@ @ *@s4e-9@@A@-b@e@e@@,
+h@@@hT um@dt4 @@d@ieh@ @@@-@-,ltw@@@w@-@L.@d -i..* I al@o get a be@ tOd@y who Baid that
* "q @ *-w@@m-1.@@p@.@r.@nr.w@@@@@n@@I@.@@@@-.X@@V@ @-8@.@*@1@
he was a brother of the Nusi who lives in Los Angeles. I taLked to Yap today. I went oac@ @0
my new apartment, and there I get 0@ @i@ Bikumah@, but I am got sure if he is Tsnte Tin's
husband or not. I sle@t so@e. Then I arran@ed my belongings. Tante Ti@ ga@e @e good tea in the
afternoon, After my bath I went and picked up my clothes at the laundry. H@turned home and
@h@@ged. Went to the M@rdika place for Bp5OO 50c) and looked for T@ti but he wasn'@ ther@.
Hsd a broiled fish and rice at the Ge@bira for @p2,50 (2500). Then I want to church, and from
there Pete @anu@i@a's brother helped @e to get a be F i home.

 Sunday, January 9, 1966.
Seldom have I been so strangely insulted as while I was on my way to service this
evening. As u d I had been antagonized from the moment I left my abode. Then, walking down
Patimura past ;@@ P.O.I came to an intersection where, hearing a bell, I stopped in time to let
a girl in a becak by. She passed to the windward and in front of me, and I could see that she was
smiling. After she was past she said, "What a rotten smell! Haven't you bathed?" Some male
across the street saw my Bible and said, "Hasn't even bathed, and is on the way to church!"
The woman in the becak was a stranger to me, and the man across the street was, I believe, a
stranger to us both.
Forgive me if I have forgotten, but do things like that happen among adults in other
parts of the world? I had thought that the process of elimination plus the fear of swift and
bloody destruction had overcome such conduct! This is a backwards world.
Sn@M@,AmJ@mH@,@E@Ml@1966
I am resting at Budin's house after spending the night on a spit of sand in the
WaEplau stream bed.
I was on the truck as it pulled out of Namlea at three in the afternoon yesterday. Raucuous
boys shouted, "Halelujah" at the top of their voices as they ran after us. One insolent
lad yelled, "Hop, Halelujah butu tabadiri!" I asked how anyone could do such a thing
as that. Imagine my feelings.
We reached Lamahang in the late afternoon after getting a little wet in some rain
on the way. I hurried inland once I had found the trail. There were shouts of protest
from the natives behind me, and it-was all I could do to get away before they found
some way of detaining me. They open their fast tonight, and the last thing I wanted
was to spend the night with a bunch of jabbering Muslims on the first night of Ramadan.
fare of Rp25 had cleaned me out financially.I lost my way in the gathering gloom,
ending up in the stream. I found footprints and followed these upstream. I had no idea
where Budin's place was, but had hoped to find a good clear trail leading somewhere,
At least, at any rate, I still prefered to spend the night in the jungle, come what
may. I found a walang in an old kebun, but no trail. Hearing voices in the direction
of the stream, and receiving an answering call from there when I shouted, I went back
I managed to find a
and hurried upstream till it was too dark for me to see anymore.
spit of sand in the last li ht by which I could see, and unfolded my pandanus mat
from inland, there was the drone of a lonely plane from far away in the direction of
the mountains. There were many bird sounds, one almost like a cat, and when I shook
towel it seemed to attract a bat. I prayed and sang loudly from my soul. The rain
was chilly. I lost my directions once in the dark as I returned from the gurgling
water. I had brought some make fish that Andi Hukunala had fried in Namlea, and I
had five of these in the early evening and five more in the middle of the night.
I did finally get a little rest after my long vigil, and got up at about 7:00, @&@k@@
Icked up in a drizzling
rain. I traveled upstream until I heard voices again, and was informed by an older
female voice that I should have to go back downstream and take a trail in the
direction of the sunrise to get to Budin's. This I did, checking trails here and there
@ncthd@e$st
Back that all dead endes in ths brush. I tried to find the level place
she had spoken about.
At last I recognized Amer Nurlatu's voice calling to me, and found him and
Andi Solisa waiting for me on the west bank of the river, up on the top of a steep
place. They were angry with me for not listening to the people at the village and for
going alone, etc. I later found that they had been out looking for me with torches
in the night after they had heard that I had arrived from someone returning from the
village.
we walked along through grasslands and down across a couple of streams on a
good trail, and after a time we arrived at Budin's house. There were loud feminine
sobs from within, and I found that they were coming from Budin himself, whom I
embraced
when he came to the door, then shook the hands of
his wife and the others there. Their house stands alone in the wilderness with a
kitchen built on piles in the back, and another structure on poles on the side,
evidently a sort of storehouse.
I went down with Amer for a bath in the WaEplau. While there I also washed out
my BVDs and a hanky. Then we returned to the house where we had fried green bananas
and peanuts. There was only one fried ripe banana and I got it. That's what our
breakfast was.

December 2, 1966

Dear Mother

I am at Kate2 this afternoon. Willis's always beg me to come, and he met
me in town today and took me home on his scooter. I had just returned to
town yesterday so that I could catch my prahu to Namlea today, but it was
canceled untill tomorrow. I have had to come to Ambon to bring willis's
boat back after his mast snapped off Kramat when he tried to return
after leaving me. He had come on ahead to Ambon, and I stayed and took
care of his boat untill I
could get it towed back to Ambon. The prahu Hatigembira towed me back for
2500 rupiahs.
We (myself and 2 Ambonese) were at sea 3 days and four nights on the way,
and then I was most of another day getting it on to Kate2. The cooling
system wasn't working on the auxilary outboard. We were becalmed a good
deal on the way, and had a hard time to keep from getting clobbered by the
prahu in the swells, especially at night, when I was handicapped. I took
the day watches, and got a terrific tan (and burn). Lucky I didn't burn
too badly, as I am toughened up to it, more or less.

There was a shark
under our boat off Tanjong Alang in the early morning when we were
becalmed, and John (one of the Ambonese) letdown my line with a salted
fish- on the hook. I was sound asleep, and it took several loud
repetitions of my name to rouse me.  I told him to throw in a piece
without a hook in it.  The shark took this and came back for the one with
the hook. We had a few brief seconds of excitement as it ran with the
bait, but it had swallowed it down to the nylon line, which did not stand
up for long to those shark teeth.  The shark had a hook and metal lure
inside of him then, but he came back for more!  Before I could get a new
hook with a tracer wire prepaired, however, he had gone.

There is a new American in town.  His name is Legion, and he is a
Presbyterian missionary.  He will be returning sometime after Christmas to
teach at the theological seminary (GPM) at Ambon.  He smokes.  He is much
more my type in background, it would seem than the Willis's.  Comes from
N. Dakota or someplace.  Don't know what to make of him yet.

Willis has been kind and helpful to me. Sis Willis is going to Ternate
with her son tonight on the Karosa. I wish I could go and see Duncans some,
but I am  far too busy.

I got your letter about the books you bought and my big concordance.
Thank you ever so much. This will be a trenendous help to me. I am now
making good progress in Indonesian, and do all my bible reading in it. I
bought a book of lessons in Koine-Greek in Indonesian at a bookshop today.
I was pleasantly surprised to find that they had such a thing. I am
learning so much about the bible that I never knew before, and I can get
so much more out of it when I know the original words. Like in Isaiah
where it says that the "breath" of God is a river, that word is actually
the word that is used for "spirit" (ruach) or'wind", which makes the
similarity to the river of the waters of life inmediately obvious. I have
felt that the river of the waters of life is the Holy Ghost for a long
time. Now I have proof. Those waters, according to Ezekiel, bring life to
all they touch. How beautiful! You will also think of Naaman dipping in
the Jordan, and John baptising near Ainun because of the abundance of the
waters there. There are so many wonderful passages that make use of this
allegory. I was surprised, however, to find that everything that walks,
moves, creeps or wiggles is a "Living soul"! From our hazy translation I
had gathered that this was a quality peculiar to man. The word "cool",
in"cool of the day" is "spirit" (ruach), which agrees with ny
understanding, that man has contact with God in spirit, if his spirit has
been revived by the waters of life, that is.

I haven't received my typewritter yet, and feel sorry I have to leave for
Buru without  getting my things across somehow, though. The Willis's want me
to come back for Christmas and the Sorbos, and even the Duncans may be
here, but I will just be getting started in Buru again by then, and I so
hate to waste time, so much has been wasted already. I rather hope I will
be with Bapa Temi in Banulalet at the time. I want to go there after I am
through with the campaign at Waipoti.

I saw Martin Lesnusa in town today. He has been pastoring at Paperu, but
he never has seemed to do any good anywhere that I know of. I hear that
Bert is still faithful after coming back to the lord when Boja died. So
much for now. Hope to see you sometime soon. Love,-Joe.

P.S. I seem to have all your letters and last one only took 12 days.
Would you please check mine + tell me which ones have not gotten through?
It's funny, but I did not get the one with the photo + guitar string + yet
numberwise I seem to have all.

December 16, 1966, Walhasanaqan.
It's 4:@5 P.M. The wind is blowing and the sky is dark. There is the sound of
thunder in the distance. The rain starts to fall and gets stronger œas I write.
About >@ feet from me the WalNaro swirls by. I am resting on a para2 in this house of
open walls called a huma-tita belonging to the Miqgodo tribe, to Selaq, who sits talking
with Budin on the para2 near me. This is the second such huma-tita I've seen, both
of them at WalHasaNaqan. ney have para2s along both sides, and the other one had a
fine drum , though of crude workmanship.
After writing my diary yesterday, I talked to Amer, Andi and Dortea. Rested but
couldn't get to sleep after a dinner of papeda, vegetables, meat in coconut milk sauce.
It was evidently salted deer meat, Kasbi and rice. It was all very good, of course,
but I couldn't get to sleep in the afternoon because I was distracted by the above
mentioned three who sat talking about the escapades of Andi Hukunala (at least that was
part of the reason I couldn't sleep)- I got up at last and asked them about him. They
Said that he was often in the house alone with Pang, talking. Dortea said
she saw him lean up against her from behind and kiss her. Andi said that they found
DECEMBER 1966

17, continued. Waelanalana.- The time is 4:45 PM. I am reclining on a bamboo and pandanus-nat
bed in a house on the bank of the WalGeren. I don't know which bank as I don't have
a compass, but we have only crossed the WalGeren once sinceWalHasanangan, and that was here.
I would like to call it the "Fly River" for all the flies that came swarming over me while I
was washing and bathing. Muas asked me if we had flies in Namlea! I read from the translation
of the first part of John, which Topi had helped me to make, and the tribesmen listened. If
I remember correctly, hey criticised my Buruese rather cruelly, though.

18. Waelanalana - Waesodi.- suNDA@.- I forgot th@t it was Sunday all the day long. @e f*@@--

finally left WaeLanalana at about 8:30 AM after @ breakfast of peanuts, kasbi and rice. I
I had three cups of instant coffee, amd my pleasant host, Abu (nawas' soni, @ad a cup with me @m
and had seconds on sugar but not coffee! After breakfast a middle aged or el@erly wo@an ad@ed fo@
*      asked for my plastic tarp. Just like that! I wasn8t sure then, but later learned that she was t
t@eKepala SoaNawas' wife. I f-lrst told her thatl n@ededit. Thenl offeredto tradeitl@:th
one of those leave jobs, evidently @ade of pandanus leaves sewn together do@ble thickness.
I later foun@ it to be miserably small, and not very new. my hosts didn't seem particularly
friendly, except for Abu, who seemed nice enough. Of course Nawas' wife smiled whe@ she got my
tarp! It was only a three meter strip of narrow plaatic from Ambon. It even leaked some.
It seemed t=at Nawas' eyes were peculiar when I arrived yesterday,
Both here and at Walhasanangan they left my the remaining contents of my precious cans of
corned beef in the cans over night with the top part used as a lid and tid @ly closed. In both
cases I had L.'ven explicit instructions that the meat must be removed from the can before storinf
stori@@.

Yesterday t@ey informed me that people from Waslei were at Waelanalana, and later I fqund
that it was a man named Labunga together @ith three others. I sent for Labun.a by letter and @e a
and his companions arrived after I had fini@hed my supper. I stood,and taking his hami in @ine
embraced him with my left arm. He was reluctant at first, but after awhile nf a@reed to leave
the equivelant of four Harie tins of peanuts he was carr$ing to the coast to sell and be my
guideback up to @@slei. I had asplendidioppertunity to testify when the @aslei @eople ca@e,
as Abu asked me to read from our translation in Meserete of John four. @here was tkat @plendid
"      spirit of receptiveness in @lem. I testified about ean's three-part nature, and @@e- his need
for contact with God, etc,
After leaving $aelana@ana at 8:30 AM we recressed the Walgeren, retrac@;@ our steps, th@n
went on to @ord the Waedole, Gwali, follow the Khan@a (where @ uis oarted company wi @1 us),
up and down to t@f @emtihut, ascend @long the Mapa to its headwaters, desce@d tc the @@"ulahin,
fo@i the @alkarohin, then proceed to the Hadifut where @e ate rice and corned beef in a little
thatch shelter in the dens@ fore@t in the rain. ae sere there until about two P@. @ um th@re
we ascended u@ the Futkikin, descended walu-Snela No.i , asc@ded @@rJit and descendedtc the@
h@adwa@@rs of tht @teGeren. Then we followed the @ae@eren past Waeglapit and Waetile, asc@n@ed
Ohonlawa, descended @e-W@ dalusnela No.2 and proceeded on past Waeda along the precip@t < n
banks of the WaeGeren and on acros@ some marshy grasslands to Waesodi, where we spent the ni@lt.
I think that despite my blindness, the trail is @imply too narrow for western feet @hrouch
the @rasslands it was no more than a rut worn into the slip?ery cl@g, and I was crashing all
over the place to k@ep up with Labunga, so that we made it to WaSodi about 6 P@. @here
was an apprehensive attitude in Labunga as we approached, in the stillness 0@ the latf afternoon
inthe @rasses. We could @ee the little clusterofhuts ahead, @here had becnleechesnear @@@
river.

Monday, December 19, 1966, Waesodi - Waslei.
I was sad to find that Labunga let the ants get to F@ thi@i can
of my precious corned beef. I was overjoyed to find last night that there are four of our people at
Waesodi. They are Lisen, @ambois, Manis, and Mukaconto. As we were on the way yesterday
Labunga had pointed to this group of houses and said, "We will rest there,
whether they like us or not." We had heard of Lisen but Labunga had never net him, he said.
When we arrived they gave us a fine place. It was the first night without fleas on my trip.
There was a fine table which they spread with a fine cloth. There were also about three chairs.
They killed a chicken and served it to us with papeda and kasbi. They brought hot
water to us first, after our bath, and I made instant coffee. I read my John 4, but
there was a different spirit here, and I became increasingly aware that Labunga was envious of
of me. They talked until late. There was a fire at our feet but still I got very cold in the
night. WaSodin is at an altitude, and chilly at night. Labunga got up and tried to stir the
fire. Then he crawled back into bed shivering. I shared my blanket with him. More instant
coffee in the morning. They later served a fine spread of rice, chicken, peanuts and kasbi for
us. I testified to a beturbined, bemoustached old man who was sitting on the bed to my left
during breakfast. We testified and talked long, and never got away until about tenthirty or so
that morning. I thought that Labunga tried to undermine my testimony a time or two.  Once
when I sang in English he said, "Bela lalenmo,"I understood the others to answer, "We couldn't
understand him." The people at Waesodi wept when we prayed our departing prayer and I felt that
The Spirit was working in one young man, but I felt that Labunga quenched it by talking
December 19, 1966, continued.
too much. I should have liked to have stayed and lain hands on him to receive
the baptism, but things didn't work out that way.
We left Wasodi about 10:30 AM. And we arrived at Waslei at about two in the afternoon.
We are in real mountain country now, Up and down over towering ridges. I bathed and relieved
myself before going on to the village. Stool problems. Had to "dig it out," as Dr. Thra@@r
would say. The Waslei is a fine stream.
When I entered the little cluster of huts called Wasleinangan the people stood at the
entrance and in the house of Busiron waiting for me. I embraced old Busiron Wadupa (Leslesi),
owner of the house, and shook the other female hands. All were weeping. I think they accept me.
I hope that I don't appear callous to them. I sat down inside and prayed and wept as the Spirit
came upon me, though I fell half asleep before they served us. I had been writing "Nescafe"
in the original diary for my instant coffee, but it was here that I discovered that it had
been Folgers instant that I had been drinking. I had instant coffee, boiled bananas, and some
peanuts wrapped in my han@o@ evidently by the women at Waesodi and rice, It was a very pleasant
change. Labunga's little girl Unang, about five, and his baby boy Wentis, probably two or under.
I made out fine with the little girl, whon I sat upon my knee and later gave some peanuts to.
She was interested in the sugar. @e@@@g@
Labunga had wept as we had approached Waslei from the steep slope above, and pointing out

hurried me as I bathed, saying that they would be waiting in the village with the
"roh".

Tuesday, December 20, 1966, Wasleinangan.
I know now that these are not mountains of joy but
of sorrows. As if the birds sang with sorrow, and not joy. The beauty of the ridges, the clarity
of the stream only echo sorrow here.  I could hear it last night when Labunga's wife sang "Tuhan
Tolong Pada Saja, dunia penuh susah." In this land of plenty they starqe. In the lovely refreshing
coolness of these highlands they waste away with tuberculosis. Malaria, which is not hard to
cure, becomes a dread disease called "pit" or "seed belly" biji poro , from the @@ spleen
being swollen out of proportion. Villages are never more than a few squalid huts in a clearing.
I suppose that disease is one way that one race can virtually wipe out another, as mps
have happened here.
I am resting here today with a couple of very sore feet. The backs of my heels are
chaffed through. My feet have been wet all day long during this journey and my '@eds" hi@h
canvas shoes have worn soft skin badly.  I need a pair of spike shoes  instead of these,
I see now. The slopes are simply too steep. Sometimes I must do twice the work, climbing up
again where I slipped down. Almost a losing battle.
These poor, dear souls killed a chicken on my behalf yesterday and brought out mountain rice
for me. We also had papeda. The sauce was very good indeed. My old host, Busiron, wants me to
stay about three days, so that he can stick one of his pigs (otherwise it mouldn't seem
worthwhile yet). I declined but said that I hoped to return another time.
I relieved myself in the stream this morning, and feel better.  The boy of the
village, @jen@, followed me down (passed me on the way and bathed, evidently scrubbing himself
with a stone

breakfast.  I had instant Folgers. More of those good boiled bananas and peanuts lo@
taught on the @ @ts, and tried to make Oabun@t understand @@e@ - - them without complete success.
On food and word. I wrote afterLabungaleft, GunaHukunala brought a gift of pineapple.
They say that there are many in the forest. In my two day's journey with Labunga he found one
by the wayside,each day. @ne first @as quite green, The second was @lmost ripe. I was v@ry the@r
full for this, my only sourre 0 ' vitamin C.
I muEt mention that last night @efore I knew that I should not be leavin, today we held
a service. @ukahensa led the singing, of which I tried to co@y some songe, @hey cw@e out 2@out @
as follows,: a@@-8@@@-@eF@@-e.@@m@-@3a@-8@e-Rewe-F*@*-k@kB-B@@@@@@e@--
Anabualfofono @amidi@1diridal2mtempat@crtjaj@ '
Kimi can OFo newe fidi Faku Banulalet Semua kami kluar den@an nama @uh@d@@
Iko la kim' hama 6p0 do @im' sale fidi Grial@$erta kami sampai di tempat b@n@sa Safir
@atik nim' tabiat tam' kim' iko gam'di Banula$e@ua menjerah dan mengaku nw:@ ruh@@@u
is@id to be by Baoa Temi.) @uhan jan@ be@ar, Tuhan @ohulkudus, ban @ @ t d@l@m
                                                                             hatiku.

                                           Waelei sampai Waemamboli

@ai anak jan@ bersalah, datang pada Tuhan
Serahkan dosamu dan salah2 mu dibawd@ kaki salib Thuanku
Ja, Tuhanku, aku datang pada nimat W Aanku
Nengaku dosa2ku
Tjutjikan hati saja didalam darah jan@ kudus.
                                                                                                I

December 1966.

@], continued.- L@bun@ 4(who says thœt @anuhutu, Uu@, named him Danj Labun@a tclls me th@t
the heathen in this part of the country are desparately afraid of Nona Defen. "Aec@lse she will
dome and tear down all those rotten houses and make you build new ones." @ani told me this as
we were sitting out on the timbers alonside his house. If not on the timbers, then on the led@e.
Labun @t te@ls oi a woman of aangali who tried to enter Temi's Banulalet @ithout Gonfessin@
      @@;EU@ 1@6@
@@' S@day. @rdapa- As@@edawain.- de return@k to ourslevated ki@;henis @@ wcrnin=, @@,

b@eakf@st, j@n@ I w2s pleased to @L@ve @o@e m@r@ 1ean@ts to eat. I testifi@d and @ola t@em a"@out
the fulnf@S of the @pirit, using my drinkinti-@lass to ex@lain. "e left e@@ @il@;@c 0@ @rd21a
to@etaer witk @ wo@an and a youn@ man @amed bohon @@d pcrhaps a little 1@3 toQ, @wt I'@e
for@otte@, as I'm writi@= @@is @s a@ addition now in 1@68. It was 9:03 2.A. @1;c@ wf left,
a@d the@ made my walk inlw@d and then b@@; down to the l@@e where a canoc @ro@ tkl œilla@@ kad
come to meet us. @he@ told @e t@a@ i! was because it was too mudd@ near tkc vili@@f. @@e
c@noe ferri@d us out over tMf Waters of the l@'@e, @n@ I had my first re@l @i@w 4@ Aer t@e@.
@t was allittle clearer today. She waters of the Id@e were very clear an4 @re@@, @rt I @mr)t @ @
@@ir purity @fcause D; @11 the p@opl@ @h@t use them as a na*h@r@l ceespoQl. I s@m@ a@ N@ @@nt.
iht canoe let u@ oii at @ placc wkere @e @ad to step up hi@h to get oœf on@o @ ,. biu@;. Srom
wherewe;anded we went strai@ltup @@@ steepincline to thetop 0@ @@ @a@;, @N frn@ @@;reon
th@ tr@il was b@tter. 1 @@:nk @ris place is called Kak'tua. Our w@@@-@e t@e; @T As@re@@w2i@
lastsd sevtr@l @@@rs. I exer@ed @?sclf and we nadf bett@r time, though I rw@@o! @@ @e@d @@#i@st
a standing treeonce, and Ffrhaps se@eral tiw@sduri@@t@at wal@ alona k:f rh@ti@.,@;m@ r@ ridi@
we deccnded to t*@ *aS@on@ whfre they lost @;e trail which was now hidden @@;c@@: i taM if @@
@@@boo tr@w:s nrt all across the @@3 @@d all @roun to @a@e roo@ fo@ a n%f @l@@t@ti@;. It .,,
a @iificult pl@cc for nc. I am not sure if it was before da@@one or after œ@C 1 @aM@c@ @v
head. @t any rate we @sce@ded from da@@one and went on till we descended t@ t@@ nlsiinr
W@tf@S Oi the *a*1a, w@u @i we followcd downstreuR @ntil we started N@e arc@it t9 @suiw@lwa@@.
S@e elderl@ wm@a@ w@o @eœt wi @@ us @ad been ea@c. to learn @@e-ee@@-"@uh@@ @eMl@ @olon@",
a c@orus, evfr since tnflS;e, andl had foundit @lNostimpossibl@ to get@2'@.a:i@tq c2rr"@t@@
tun@. klon@ the @@eka when @ohon @e@t over for somet@inJ i noticed k@s betrlnr@ 1ouc@ w:uci was
sluniacrossi@sbody on a cord. Itwas a little muddy before the main asce!;tto AM@;cd@w2in,
and itwas alon@way uF i@e ste@pi@ ine, andl had to stopto relieve @@@fi@".
It was 2;4@P.@. w@e@I @ade my f-lrst eutry in my diar> at Asukedaw@;@, s9I @sti@atc@
tuat we must have arrived t@ere at about 2:0@ P.E. I was @reeted at his nouse @@ =@i@an, @h@
@awasan, @sos Ao@se is abn@t ki@ fart@eat @own t@@ hill. He had t@ars in œ@@ @@,s, ami ve
C@;1@ ffel @ deen @ellows@a@. @ s@t on a bed t@@re for awili@e, and then was cs@ortn! R@ s@ œic
houseofUdut, @he@atebesi (Matleasalbesi , chiefof t@@ villa@e. @is housei@ a@ @u; tQ@
ofthf@@ll@:e, lookin@out @cross the ranges ofmountains to the east ani @j:@illa@e below.
@he'e I shook hands with @any pcoplc, and Rade a speech in @alay to the crmld 0@ Reoplj En@ @@d
gathered around i@e v@r;u@da@. I thing it was because they asked me, but I t@@;ied 0 t'if@ a@@%t
t@@ raja of Kajeli's @lans @or noh@@@danizing the daeApu It@at had been qnf @, t@@ chie@
reasons that I @ad co@e @fr@ on m3 way to @anulalet, to get @emi to come or sc@d sonto@@ tc
open u? the @ae@pu with ne zefore the iohamedans tried to force the peoDlf into :sl@@),
@hen I read to ttfn f'ro@ our tr2@@slation of Joh@ four. @hey had @.ven me @ fcllow n@@ed Bartiu
who @ad been to S.@,B. till t@f tS@@@@- third year, uu@ he coul@n't translute @@r me so i w@s
forced to go asead id @ai@y for 4@ speech. I was fmlstrated at nor being ablr to s?@a: to t r
peopicbeca@se 01"t@e lan@la@e difficult@, but ti@ere was anan there from @aeLo w@o s@o@@:!ala@
tome.I had the annointing 01"taei!oly3host and testified to hin clearlyin@@l9;.iie w@s
a Protestant ehurcA man. the 8pirit be@an to fall. A youn@ wo@an, œukacita i@ad cQ@e @mi @at
down on my left. @he@awasan was seated on my rig@t, @d@acita(@uka@ida) @@,c @ short nessa@c
"" '  in tongu@s lWit@ the interpretation, I ti:nk, but not a clear one), and the @awa@2n almost
@otfreein anot@@r ton@ue."@heyhad suspi@ioned me at first,but when M@ey s@w the Spiritmo@@n@
they believed. @hcy later told me that they had @een afr@id t@jt I was politic@lly con@ectcu.
@@ey brou@@t me a m@d @an, @alus, to be prayed for. @his was later in the aite@-M@Qn. I stoqd
with S@m ana lay my hands gn him, and had the faith of the @cople, and I wrotf i@ @? oris@:al
diary th2t I hoped for his @eali@@.
I wrotc also in ny 0@.@n@l @iary th%t I felt @ @lnny hardness of spirit !@;T @s at
Erdapa, n@: t@@tl t@ou@ht O;ati$:m@t have beennabun@a, who seems to w?r@i@ tw:fle@h.
@e seems to MaMt to @f SOMet @@# that he i@@lt I heard him @U@ @he@d of h@@sei@ nan@ t@@c@
@!d mu;fT@@@t@kes abou@ tki*;s @e didn't really know of.
ksukedawain is the hand@onest 0@ the mountain villa@es I've seen on @@ juu @ley tkus f@r.
"hc Aatebesi'@ @ouse ov@rlooks many other houses in the villages. @@e vill@ic is k@ilt on
the mountain@i@e and the hou@cs Aave been built oi square timbers, and l@i@f R@rQ like t@@@c
of @ s@ore @illa@e, what with @ @ir e@g g@ba2 walls, iThe houses kave s@j@rf ?9@1@ aw!
@a@@2 walls, u@@ all in all it's more li@e a shore villa@@ but built on the w%un@ain@i@c,
@0 that t@f old @atle@'s kou@c overloo;s na4y othfr hou@es below . The n@t@@@ s@ @ œrk @e @;d
rulcd for a@m@t 2d years.
@e @eld @ @ervice i@ @if evw@ing. @@e3 san@ a son@ of Bap@ @emi's @>$ i k@ njver @e1rd
before, "Biar Gebar @eMe@ Sefen, c, La Opo," and did well at it. They had @ @;rri@le ti'@ :i S
"@@*an @irim doh Api," thou@4 @1d it was one of the weirde$t @ounds I hid evfr @%lrd. I @A
not sure if t@ey Qad ever sun@ that son@ before I came or not, but thf@ don't ii@t@@ to @Ni
          he w,s tak@ng his@ea@s at S@@l@iwaps, ne@td"oor, T@e@ said he also let so@eoneplay

@y Buitar wbile I was Sone awa@, which was against mp esplicit instructions. I
pro@ised them that I would talk to hi@.

I was surprised when they serTed us gQod pancakes with our afternoon tea. Dort@a
said they were @ade of kasbi flour and that she had used e@g in making them.
I spoke of man, and John 3 in the evening service, and they t@id @e that about 20
had come. Many of the@ were from the interior, and Just happened to be here. I did well,
@ @ none of them came forward for salvation.
This @orning, dispite all their protests, I set out with Budin and his wife
sometime after 8:00 A.M. Andi Solisa and his wife followed us along the WaEplau till
we came to where the main trail was. we st@pped to rest,-@ Budin and his wife,- at
a place on Kaku-Bele-Masin where @lere was a view, though I couldn't see well enough
to enjoy it. On the @ar side we could see e long way, out oper the lowlands to the
@ountains. They tried to show me the Samalagi river, b@t here my eyes failed @e again.
It was as we restsd there that I met Man@Mual for the first time. A@er also caught up
with us there on his way to the eucalyptus still at Miskoko, and he palked with us as
far as the Miskoko turnoff, where he took the trail to the leœti B@di@ complai@ed
about A@er not being willing to go on w8th @e today and lead @e, since he had to go as
far as the eucalyptus still an@how. Budin and wife a@so said that Andi, Dortea, and A@er
h@dnvt told the truth when they tried to intimidate me about there being nany turnoffs
on the trail, etc. 7hey didn't seem pleased with them, and I couldn't ri@htly dissagree.
(@@oking bakk l@ter, I feel that it is a wonderful thing that Budi@ and his wife could
see things my way. Those two peo@le ri@ht out of the forest, unblemished with the
hideous influence of the "shore people", thos@ we know as average Indonesians. )
I developed a @rowing interest in Bwdin's wife today. She seems so true in spirit
ual things. She got far behind on the ascent of Kaku-Be@e-Masin, and @ l@ked the way
she looked when she reached us, sweating and p@nting. There was sosething @ba@t her then
that @ppealed to me esthetically. Somethln@ so real about he yas she sat there. When
we arrived at WalHasaNaqan she served budin a@@ @@w@!@@,so@@u@@b@@t1ever touched a thing
herself.
Mana#ual made s@me good bark shou@der-straps for my ti* pack and strapped the@ on
for me, Then he fo@l@wed us here, and with his help they got me Mua@, a good l@oking,
w"ellbuilt young*a@ who speaksMala@; @lmy gm;de for@o@orrowb jo8rney. They say
we @ay reach his village of W&9i-Lalen tommarro@, It lies beyond W@elanalana u'd
W*Sodi, I@ was sunn@ and ManaMual l@d me upstream to batheafterl had met@n@@. I
tried to leap &cross the stream near the Huma Tita when I returned, -and M@na@ual had
said that he @ould really believe in A@ericans if I suoceeded,- but boobooed and landed
in the water and got my shoes wet, r think it was because I was wearing a saron@.
It rained efter we had gotten b@ck and started talking about the Bible. Budin's
wife took what was left of the rice, but left the remainder of the chicken, which
she s@ys she doesn't eat. She later took uncooked rice from my provisions w@en I
asked hcr to,
Around 5:>0 in the afternoon Budin told @8 of a ru@our so@eone had tried to intimi
!         aate himv@t @8@t=Bapa Te@i had been beaten"and had fled into the forest@ That
"              SOD- ne@gO @n @ternOtreturntothe@ountai@s
siaang was an "@@ama to@anton@" , and the@-5 @ud h
or the Leksula police @ould beat him \\

WA@HASAH@QAN-WA@LA@AL@NA,SATUBDAT,DECEMBERl7,l96@- @@ ! iast.
It's 6;>3 in the morning and I a@ still at WalHasaHaqan. The sky is s 1@ @he
M@ny differe@t binis are singing, each bis own song, and then so@etimes on
crickets and the gur@ling stream below me. Ca@p is coming alive. Chickens, swinel
I found a dog curled up against the cold at the foot 0@ our para2,
Last @i ht was a @iserable @9@ht for @e, The @ara2 was sva@ dn@ with b8ti@ flees9
and I was awake @any ti@@s scratching my w@lts. H@rrible, these creatures
w@ bA@ a satisfying @e@l of ric@, p@rk d@n@@n@, papeda and corne@ beef l@st @iBht.
I was foolish enough go open up my corned beef when Bndin's wife asked @e for it,
saying, -as I understood it,! that the d@nd@n @ was too hard @* eat. I@ reality it
Tas @@ry tough, but delicioue cQoked i@ santan &s it was, and I felt s@rry that I had
vasted my precious provisio@s foolishly. I feel that they aren't qu@ts sur@ yet that I
ca@ eat @nythi@g t@ey e&@, thsu@h, so I fQrgi@@ t@@@.
I ts@tified durine @@pper, but felt a lack of 3 a@noi@ting. Mana@u@l r@tup@@d
*@a I tsld A@as And hi@ stsri@s of the prophets u @h and Eii@h*.
B@di@'s wife @a@s af@@r I had lain dow@ to sle@p and aaked @e @bout the werld be@ond;
if it would be allright to clear @ra@@s, etc. I spoke to her about a song that they had
sung on the way here that @e@@io@@d or was addressed to @other *nd @at@er, and slplsined
that it was wrong to talk to people after death. I asked if she had ever heard anyone
from beyond, She said, "No." I said that it is the same with them, for they no longer
hear us, but someday we will all rise up together.

December 1966. 26th continued.-

a welcome in the real traditional mau@er of old Buru. @h@re is an old chi@@ t@ere who re@lses
th enter"Sidangp though he is frien@ly toward us and all his subjects have aQieDt@d. @e is
ahappy sortofold fellow, it seemed likr tome. Wley told me t!@atw@@e-we @=e a@pr9adrrl
"Sidaq@" pcoplt to prepare me to be in the Spirit. ti@@en I saw them they were al st@nding out
on the verandah of the old ma@'s howe or out under t he eaves. the old @an !u @s@lf was out in
front, and he led them in a chant to me. Me wore his traditional turbine, a black coat, a
red-stri@ ed scarf, and pants oi stri@ed maroon. He chanted in an emotional voice and thf
others, his subjects, tke Sidan@" people joined in after him. If I was correct, it went
something like this: "4r ship, by canoe, by foot@ across ridge and stream. @e @ave no clean
virgi@ for you. @e have nothing to offer." I stood outside in the sunshine, leaniD@ on my @taf
staff, and waited until t@ey we'@ done. @hen I embraced t@c old man a*d-e@e@@-@a@@e-w@@@-@@M-s@
e@@@rsr@@F- as he c@@e forward, and shook hands withthe oth@rs. @hey w2ntcd to detaini@e
thfre, and though it wasn't easy, I felt that I had to turn tsen down, @hey prepared u fi@e me
meal for us, and it wasn't until we had well eaten that we continued o@r journey.
We sloshed up the WaeHan@a to its headwat?rs, and when they had iound @s trail we
climbed uo a steep ascent to the rid@e. Old @aniSama, @@ kacida's husband, was @@@ing difficulty
wiih his @eart, I @ @nk. Cn the descent to N w WaeSang'kabun, on the othtr side, I was œavin3 t
trouble,and Euka@da eB@gee@e@-@@@@-@e@@a@e- or her stepdau@hter, on@ or klf otkfr, @u@3@sted
that the @@0 was hunting me for not @oins to Grialale toda@ but pushing on. @hey hiM@ al@eet in@
insisted @@@@-@- today that I make the ascent to the site of Grialale, telliM@ ne @iat those
who ro to @an@lalet m@st alwa@s @) there first, --almost as if it were soN@ srt of shrine on
ao@ilgrima@e route or somet@ing. Indeed, I seemed to know all d@y today tk2t I was on a pil
grimage!

We made the descent and arrived at the WaeSan@'kabun in the misty rains. a@ ate m@r '
orovisions t@ere before @oinu 0@. I reme:$ler something about drinking or wcsi:i@@ i@ tke rushini
stre@rnear so@eone's foot, and ho@ @:atp@rson Aad been worri2d about M@cont@@.nati@@
@ysel@, a@@ saiin tk@t my feet were clean 4ecause they were white. @e followed the dae
Sang'kabun downstrewa for @lL@t seem@d like sev@ral miles, entering a forset 0@ c.@nt @ree-
feE;s in @@@ @@th@ring @leom. I made good ti@e with my shoes 1 the strea@, t@q@=@ @ fell
@any times. Oncel had stepped on theuplifted end 0*'a rot@Snlog andit@@@@@n@s wa@
"        under my weid;t and @-@@@ my head had coNe crashing down onto the nest 10@ so @@rd @lat I
had @8@n@eo@d@zzy that I had had to sit still for a moment where I landed till it wore off.
Old Mani-Tama looked @son me and wept. In thin@s like these I could see the a@r@e- @'eat
ap@rec@ation of these tribal converts. It was something that wa@aed the heart, th@@ feelin@
0@ beinr loved, after the pitilessness of the Feople at Namlea.
As we made our @ay down the Sang'kabun n@caL@da kepat aski@@ me how nuiA ti@e was left
before ni@htfall. @hey had no way of telling, but I had the old Eternamatic that korris Aa@
@iven me on my arm. @he@ tried to estimate whether or not we could mak@ it to @emi's plant2tion.
I had @iven u? hope in the gath@ring gloom as we hurried on as much as was @osk@@le with me
poor eyes, I could barely see b,t they Fe. urged me on, saying that we were very near. ks it
turned out we arrived just as ni@lt did, and they led me the last few step@ from the strewn to
the little huts in the darkness. It must have been about 6:45 P.M.
We warmed ourselves around the fire. There @ere other people there, too, either from or
p=@@     to @anulalet. There had been a "ketua" from Grialale who walked with us at first as we wade
our way up the @ae@an@a. No, perhsps he was a "@emuda" or something. @e walkid swiftly on
wi@h his spear in his hand, to bring the news 0@ my comln@ to Bapa @emi.

'        z@ @uesd@y. @aeSan@'kabun plantation - Banulalet. -
In the original entr@ in my diary I wrote:'7:55 A.M. Cold. So cold @ couldn't sleep in @i
ni@ht........... '

I am not a little disturbed this morning because of some things ihat h n @ been happening.
@here had been a few peculiar thin@s that I noticed in the beha@ior of the @@ople. @h@y
"        told me that people hNre to Lo to Banulalet to "bertobat" All the weepini uusiness along @Se w
way had made me thi@@ of that "lau@hing sickness" that @Ae-pee@@e-@@d-@@-New-@@@ leveled @illa@e;
someFlace that @ had read abQut, I had felt that there was too much s@lf and flesh in it.
Now they tell me that Bapa @emi is different from what he used to be, and that he wants
@e to cry before @oin. on to him at Banulalet. @his conjures the horror of ! pro@@et @one Mad,
and I am prayi@g for widdom, @-k@@@@-e@-@he-u@e@u-@@@
I knelt on the bed and pr@yed until I was in the Spirit.
@he nib:@ had been cold, even with Timu ,n the bed with Re. I ended u@ i@ a mind of rabbit
crourh on all fours on the bed with my flan@el sheet over m5 back and tucked in as mush as
possible. It is really too small for me.
I talked with some of Bapa @emi's men in the fresh sunlight, and tried to get some of my
thin@s dried out. One pair of my pants gave our on their backside and the other pair i@ wet.
@hey prepared a @eal for us, and I ate some kasbi and pork oil @efore we Icft for the
ascent.

Bapa @emi had g.ven explicit instructions as to just when @e should leave, and wheh our
L*@de thou@ht that the sunwaswhere BapaTemi had said @eleft.
DECEMBER 1966.
27th continued.
The ascent turned out to be a particularly grueling experience.   After just a short
distance the land rises sharply, So sharply that you need to hold on with your hands too
at times. From there on, our climb took us npl /@S stretches of trail at least as bad as
any I had encountered so fsr. If any of the tr @@ils I followed here was @@ 4@@%/ difficult, @0
was the one from Waesan@ksbun to Banulaleti After the first ascent the trail took us
to the left @lon@ an almo3t perpendicular face of the mountain that plun@ed down to a cascadin@
stream far below us. One @alse st@p could have me@nt deat@. I did exactly as I was told, the
@uidedictating footholdsto my witk the end oi his spearshaft from time to time.I never k:!;@t
thou@ht of falling. Afterwhile the rock face broke throu $1 the covering layer of clay, and
we had to walk along poles lashed as brid@es over the otherwise almost humanly impassab@e
places. de came to the @tream and followed it upwards. @he@ the @ u d@ told u3 that if
we waHted to bet@e th@tie should bat@@ kcre. I had no idea what di"stance midltlie between
us and Banulalet now.nBe bathed in t@t icy waters. As we ascended our guide e@ek@ *araed
me repeatedly to see@ tears. L@aving @ * @tream behind we ascended ever hi @ @ r over
stretch after stretch of tan@led--@Oom@times giant--tree roots, until at la@t we came to what
see@edto bet@e top oit@@n@.nascent, and @@mwe iound aFathth@twas vcr@ nuchlike a
forest Fat@ in the States. the forest floor h@re w@@ heavil@ car@eted @itk deca@ing ve@@table
matter, and @ave sli@@tly undrr t@, @ti@@t oi our bodi@g. @ stafi was @luost useleer as a@
aid to walœin., be@ @se it would @ink ri@ht on in for about 4 feet or so. If you ventured
0œ*"the places where man was wont to trod you would fall through it, and if you were wearing
shoes you would get them filled with dark brown and black earth. There was moss everywhere,
and often very thick. over this type of terrain our new path led. It was maintained
and had been kept clean. As we reached this path we heard the sound of a distant
whistle from ahead. the @@@@e hurried us on in hushed voices. There was singing and sobbing
far away. We drew ever nearer. our guide stopped us before a sort of entrance structure
built of round poles and beams. It was shaped like this: A T the post of which was lashed to
the middle of a lintel supported by two posts, one on
each end, and parallel from any point of view with the beam of the T, which was
somewhat shorter than, and rested above, the lintel. I do
K"@U
centre 0@ tnl5 pa@ei I later learned that this was the salib (cross). Here we
B8lib
changed our clothes and prepared ourselves for the entrance into Banulalet.

Our guide warned us to seek tears. My companions had been sobbing intermittently
all the way up, but I had been dry.  I didn't respond even now. Then we saw a boy
coming down the trail, and the guide informed me that Temi wanted me to seek tears, and
that I should come with love in my heart. I replied that I wasn't coming in anger, and that
I had known and loved Bapa Temi for a long time. I also understood my guide to enjoin me to
look up so I could see Bapa Temi, and fasten my eyes on him as I approached. We went on.
The singing grew nearer. Muka-Gida I thought she was called Muka-Glidak, t th time
took the lead.  The day was splendid: the mountain air was crystal clear, As we left the
overshadowing forests behind, we came out into tie many shades of blue of the vault of heaven
that arched over us to the horizons on every side except directly ahead, where yet
loomed the last stretch to the summit. Looking uP I saw a structure that I immediately felt like
from the darkest jungles of New Guinea, stood the tallest stilt house that I had ever seen.
(I later heard that Chor measured it and it was something like 6 meters and something from
the earth to the floor). Flying out in front was a little entrance balcony and a ladder leading
i
@
*
rails with wild blossoms and ornamental leaves. i@"rom the rails and @alls around @@e.s@des of
the house hung yards of unbleached muslin. it was packed with people, and almost everyone
seemed to be waving white kerchiefs. Be@ow lay @hat was probably Qne 0@ the most strikinœ of
views ever, i@"one could see it, and below that the white e@@u:@heof thebal@ed mountain top
with Temi's house running north and south a few feet to the west, smaller houses farther down
the clearing to the south, and @@e little band of pilgrims that we@e;@ie, toiling up the slope
westward from the southeast. I glanced from side to side at the scenery, and though it
wasn't possible for me to see much with my deteriorating eyes, yet I could tell that what I was
seeing was very beautiful. The sound of screaming sobs and singing grew to a roar as we
approached, those with me now entirely absorbed in the frenzy of @hra@@i@@@ was somathing that
I had never seen before. Like an etching from one of those big, old volumes of "The Pilgrimls
progress" unfolding before my very eyes! the bend that my companions had to thei@ bodies as they
pushed on up the slope. MukaGida strayed a few steps to the right, then pushed back onto the
trail, which still led around to the left.  I followed @@@@ouœ@ :@ .@@@s I was feeling deeply
sorry that this had come to Bapa Temi, or, rather, that Bapa Temi had come to this, -@g r@@i@hed
the ladder and began to climb. My costume consisted of a white shirt, a pair of black
dress slacks with the seat torn out, a sarong tied up short about the seat of my pants like
Malay sash, and my Keds basketball shoes. When I reached the balcony the )use went wild
with shrieks and sobs, and the whole place seemed to sag slightlyas I walked œ slowly forward.
I had prayed at the Waesangkabun house this morning making clear my consecration as a mere
tool of the will of God, and praying for wisdom. Now, as I felt the mass hysteria from

I couldn't see well, but when I thought that it
was the correct time I stepped forward and recognised the one who came to meet me as Temi
himself. I took his shoulders as if to embrace him, but he led me on in amidst the deafening
din. As I backed toward the right hand eastern wall many hands came upon me, so that I was
mildly alarmed. The noise subsided, however, and Temi asked me to pray. I thought that I did @
so well. He then said some words and asked me to sing "Intan2 Dan Permata," which I did, but
without the annointing. then he asked me to close in a prayer. When I had finished Temi asked
to shake my hand. I didn't recognize Mura in the handshaking that followed. I prayed with some.
Then we turned to examine the view. It was fantastic, and the coolness was exhilerating.
Mountains, valleys, and more mountains!
They brought chairs for Temi and I, and there we sat looking out over the vast, sunlit
blues and greens of our planet. @ @ vastness of Buru, their world.
It was as we sat thus that I told Temi how I loved him, and appreciated him and b@s
his work and he burst into tears, and the Spirit moved between us. I wept. It was all so
wonderful; the others sitting around or standing near us, that beautiful view, the sunlight.
They called us below for coffee, which Mura served in large glasses with roasted peanuts.
Someone @@ui brought her some sugar, and our coffee was sweetened. got that the Buruese will
usually drink coffee without sugar, but they are often unable to serve coffee so far from the
coast as this for a lack of sugar.
I felt a light in Temi that I knew must be from God.
He has 70 - 80 people here, about 40 being here for repentance from Bobo, a village on
the coast near
Ka'plat'mada. @ @ others are here to feed them, from Grialale, I
believe.
We talked and talked and enjoyed our fellowship. There was fine food. We had foxtail
millet and plenty of pork and rice for lunch, which was served sometime along about the middle
of the afternoon.
I felt chilly, so Temi brought me out a sportscoat that Mother had given him long ago at
Kate2. It fit me perfectly, and I felt fine to be so nicely dressed in this pleasant climate.
                                                        and
Either after our coffee or after our meal he brought me a pair of pants, which also fit well.
In the afternoon I had it all out with him, and he explained that the people had
misunderstood, as his only purpose in having people come by way of Grialale was merely to give
his elders there an oppertunity to inform him of the approach of guests. He made it
clear that the place was of no importance. I spoke plainly to him about heathen worship, and
shrines. Hindu and Budhist shrines in Java. I explained to him how trees had not been allowed
to grow near the temple because the heathen worshipped on mountaintops and in groves. He
became defensive, and it upset him, but we closed the
discussion is a prayer at my suggestion.

Temi went for a walk alone, saying that I had bettar stay home because it would be muddy.
It had rained fiercely this afternoon.
I went and looked out of the western door onto a fantastic sea of clouds and mountain
peaks. Then I walked out onto the earthen terrace and stood there in the stillness. After
that I went back through the house, out the eastern door, and out in front a ways.
There I stood awhile, and Timu came up to me, and said, "Neten gosa tirin, Bapa." I agreed.
Bapa Temi came up the way from my left and reported that he had been discussing my return.
He said he felt that the Waeapu route was a bit dangerous, and that his spirit didn't allow it.
In the evening I knelt praying at my bedside, but i could hear girls whispering about me
at the door, and knew that they were watching.

After the evening meal and discussion we held a service. It wasn't until
this evening that I began to speak, and I think I spoke a little over 20 minutes on John 4,
reading from Topi's translation. Temi tacked on a lot afterward. He closed the service and sat
talking. Then I excused myself and went to bed. Temi came and covered me with the sportscoat,
which I had taken off, and even so I was terribly cold. I got uP to Pass water, and when I
returned my stomach was sore. Ere the night was over I had to go again, but felt no pain
this second time, though I got very
cold. There was a brilliant moon over the western mountains, so bright that I could even dimly
see the dirt terrace. I knew it must have been spectacular, that scene.
Temi's ara guided me as I returned, and he asked me something about "seeing," or '@mon."
I went back to bed, miserably cold under my thin cotten blanket.
I forgot to mention that today I also was with Temi for an inspired tour of the kitchen,
where Mura feeds the masses t.bl@*@œk@@"h place w@@tpy@v3ded w@$@m@@@,@@,@ % @ronœ@
low, finely laid out Burue@ E
                                                          Japa
was made of bamboo lathwork.
Tue iiour
Temi seems so human for a Buruese. Of course this is another world, entirely different
from the coast. The people are different. The way Temi rushed me back to the kitchen was with
with the light air of a prince displaying his establishment to a royal guest. No malu2 here!

Wednesday, December 28, 1966, Banulalet.
Heard praying in the early hours about this guest from Namlea. At
some time about eight in the morning I was up and washed in the kitchen. Then I went out to
examine the morning and to talk silently with the people. Talking to them I felt that
Temi's two elders are working well.

(I am attempting to continue this diary today, on the 30th, and seem to have lost all
track of time.)

The people from Bobo returned today. They never got away until midday, what with all
their praying and weeping. I felt that a good deal of it was in the flesh. Bapa Temi
introduced a young man named Wasan to me, who may come to Namlea with his wife to learn to
read and write from me. They tell me that he is sPirit-filled. I and Temi
Prayed over him and others who are to lead the Bobo work. He is to be the youth leader,
The other two are to be elders.
Temi received them all in his room ten at a time, ten at a time, to pray a farewell
prayer. There were 44 of these people from Bobo all in all I think.

In the afternoon some boys from Waebohit arrived in the rain.

Thursday, December 29, 1966, Banulalet.
I am suffering from constipation.
Today i took bearings of Taglasmiten, Tefdula, and the sun.

In the afternoon a fever rose in me and I went to bed. It rained hard outside. They
built us a fire, but I couldn't seem to keep warm.
of Kate2. Along before dawn I succeeded in relieving my bowels out on the bank to the west
of the house. The moon was bright but had a halo. The rain had stopped, and it seemed
warmer. I found Temi and Mura sitting at the table in the darkness when I came in,
and Temi asked me if I had been aware that he had come and prayed for me.  I returned
                                                                              to bed.
Temi played the tiqkobi this afternoon, a traditional Jew's harp played in buv. @ere
is an illustration of its shape: c
Thisinstrumentismade of bamboo, and is played by jerking the string with the
right hand while holding the end of the instrument(b.) with the left hand. The body of the
instrument(c.) is held over the mouth, and the reed (d.) vibrates between the lips producing
sound. Notes are changed by altering the capacity of the mouth and throat giving different
resonances. B@@ealtwnes @d@re l@red, but Temi told me that they imitate nature sounds
on the tingkobi, e.g. the roar of surf, bird calls, dogs in the chase, the sound of cascading
waters, etc. The tatabuang, Qr, ccan xylophone, is also imitated.
@hey were sing @ $ R@ @m@ @ @ rom'th@ @ @"@ and joined @hem. I couldnlt s@y for
dining room, and the gi$,. @@@@i:wor@i@;about it all. Temi'says that the spirit is
sure that it is the Holy Ghost, @@@p
tears, and vice-versa. I fear that this is a mad confusion of adat and faith that will
destroy there ality, and don't know that to @ ", "-@
In the early night the re@as@Ad . -
@ne oank to the west
@' Kate2. Along before dawn I succeeded in relieving
of the house.  The moon was bright, h7@""                      @@@Erp@q@@@n the bank to the west
warmer.  I found Temi and Mura sitting @@@@@ @ I came in,-
and Temi asked me if I had been aware that "-"@@I 5-d"""-
I returned to bed. I had been c0+ @ @ @ @@ A %gy@l,'@ a pair of pants, my cotton blanket,
sarong, and a cloth they @* covered me with.\@'

Friday, December30, 1966, Banulalet.
I was awakend by Temi while dreaming about luring fish at a pier somewhere.

The sun was already up. I wrote a letter to Chor Lesnusa for the boys to take back. We
ate some foxtail Millet and pork. Then I re-wrote my letter, asking him to cable Andi.
I am still a bit feverish. Wrote a letter to Paul for Temi.

I find Temi to be rather thick-headed, as is to be expected, of course, from his
background. I can't seem to really get across to him. He has intolerable breath, and I
noticed him coughing. I hope it isn't T.B. Maybe it's the flue, and that's what I have -
from him.

When the Bobo people were here there was a smell of puss in the air. A sickening-
sweet smell, evidently of yaws. We prayed for a baby that they brought to us who was
suffering from the "poro biji," apparantly half-dead with malaria.

I was sorry to find that my watch had stopped in the night because of the lack of
motion yesterday, when I was sick abed.

When I asked the name of the tiqkobi again today a man played for me. He immitated
the call of a Ka'plat'mada bird which doesn't exist here. I grew fed-up with Buruese music.
It is almost more than I can bear. Their minor songs are all alike, evidently called
kabata. Tiqkobi and crying (ee @ng ) Oh, for some classical! My soul yearns.

I had chills along about midday, and am beginning to think that I may have malaria,
as relieving my bowels didn't seem to help as it should have were I merely suffering from
constipation. My right thumb grew numb despite the sportscoat, shirt, pants, socks and shoes.
I added a cotton blanket and sarong, 1 and am still cold, but getting warmer. The day
turned overcast. Mukagida's husband has a headache also.

I read some chapters of Job. There was a part around chapter ten that seemed rather
depressing to me.

Monday, January 9, 1967, Banulalet.
I had a horrific fever all day yesterday, which was still worse than that of the day
before. I decided that I must have an alternating double dose of malaria last night when I
found my spleen tightly swollen. my semi-delirious thoughts were continually
drifting off into the Buruese language, and I struggled to quote English passages.

Tuesday, January 10, 1967, Banulalet.
I can barely see to write. I have been virtually blind for days now. I thought that it
went away once, but maybe it was only my imagination, or only for a brief spell. I am very
weak. I don't know what I could possibly have. My fever has lessened, though . Now it is almost completely gone. It only seems to come up a little now and then, like in the night.
I have been very confused, and discouraged, and alone. NO one from the beach (coast) will
seem to help me. I wrote so long ago. I was disappointed again yesterday, when a fellow
left for Waebohit without letting me know of his departure in time for me to get a letter off
to Willis. It has been terribly windy here these past days and nights. I almost thought that
we'd lose the house last night. the sun is shining now. It's not noon yet.  I don't know
what to do.

Maybe Temi is returning today.

I don't know when I'll ever be able to get out of here again. I hope that all is
well in Namlea.

Bapa Temi finally arrived today.

Banulalet, Wednesday, january 18, 1967.
After all these days of suffering and waiting this fellow, Sefnat, finally turns up
around two-thirty in the afternoon today with what appears to be some sort of muscle-trouble       -
vitamins and something else that was wrapped in part of my letter and he told me I was
supposed to take two-a-day of. They were from Oom Chor Lesnussa. Instead of giving them to the
women who arrived here yesterday, he had detained them another day by taking them with him to
Waekatin-olon with him. I did get two fine lemons today, though.
strange, having taken one each of my pills I have begun to perspire.
      Perhaps I am some better today, though the night was miserable with coughing. I still
can barely see. My eyes sting and fill with tears. I found that the box that the big white
pills came in was marked, "For intermuscular injection." How could you give an intermuscular
inJection with large white tablets? I suppose that they may even be calcium for nursing
women. Whatever they are, they must be very ancient.  I only hope that the other, two-a-day
pills are quinine, but I had imagined quinine to be quite bitter, and I can stand to chew
these up in my mouth. They taste very old. I perspired some last night, though, and it
seemed that when I coughed, perspiration broke out on my forhead.

I had a very good breakfast of a fried dough of cassava pulp and bananas, and it was
even a bit warm, but very late. I made a bitter glass of bitter Folgers instant coffee.

Lunch came too early, with sticky, rottenly cooked rice, some pork fat that Mura
scrounged, and some fried cuscus.

Banulalet, Monday, January @@ 1967.

My dizziness is bad enough to drive me crazy! My nervous system seems jittery. It
must be the medicine. Perhaps I also made a mistake in drinking coffee this morning. I
am at Kupe's house, where I have moved to flee the wind that almost blew Temi's house over.
Someone has evidently tied a pig up in the only other room of the house (the inner room),
and its grunts are almost unbearable. I was teaching the kids how to read this morning. My
body is still perspiring off and on.

Banulalet, Monday, January 2@, 1967.

I am still recouperating, and am feeling stronger every day. Also, by God's grace, I
am seeing better! I was worried that my fever may have done permanent damage to my eyes. I
am about through with my cough now, but am a little worried about some lumps in my throat,
but I think it will pass. I am writing this in the morning, and everyone, it seems, is
leaving. At least so says Temi.

About Bapa Temi, I mentioned to him how he stinks, and asked him if he were sick.
For a few days his stink seemed to go almost or entirely away, but now he is stinking again
as bad as ever. I could smell him stinking all the way from outside the house this morning!
I certainly can't figure out what it is. All these people seem to stink, and their stink is
almost like that of skunk! I have strong suspicions that the reasons
have to do with the bath--or, more precisely--without the bath! Some LIFEBOUY might
help matters.  I never noticed Mama Mura stinking though. She is a fine woman.

The sun is shining brightly.

The day before yesterday, a handful of people arrived here from WaruJawa, Rana.  They
came up the trail bawling, it seemed to me that they were walking a bit @@@@k@r" @@@
for this type of a procession. some of them came and shook my hand later. one of them, a
man named Mandur, spoke fairly good Malay, but yesterday got on my nerves with his over-

message on Jesus' advent from Daniel 7. My heart still fluttered unsteadily when I stood
up yesterday, but today I am feeling much stronger, and was up and about a bit in the
morning. I am having trouble with the muscles around my shoulders, which feel as if they
were about to tear loose at times when i have them in certain positions. It is evidently from
long disuse. i can't see well enough to know, but it must be something like when you have
Just gotten out of a cast after recovering from a broken limb. I have a hard time here with
all the racket. Some time ago, when I was still on the quinine? pills, I pushed all the
way to Temi's house to get away from the grunts of the little piggy that they brought back
from Waebohit and put in the only other room of this, Kupe's, house. I hope that enough
will leave with their kids today to give me some peace around here! For some reason this house
and area is where the kids like to play, and the little boy who seems to be Kupe's - at
least he stays here - behaves like a spoiled brat. (rewriting this later, I think the
was Yopi, Neiqan's son). People are always standing in the doorway and blocking my light.

But, thank God! I can read His word now!

Banulalet, Wednesday, January 2, 1967.
It is sunny now, in the morning. The gang finally left the day before yesterday, but
Temi and Mura returned late yesterday afternoon. Obed took care of me while they were gone.
@e brought cassavar-all chopped up, but soft- on Monday afternoon. Yesterday morning he
brought cassava again, but it was hard.  At noon he brought nothing. Then, in the afternoon,
he and a smaller boy--Tohon, I believe--went off down the trail into the forest. By three
or so I felt pretty hungry, so I went up to Temi's house to scrounge. There I found a
woman with the fussy boy, and asked if there were any cassava. "Only raw cassava,"
was her reply, but she immediately went back to the kitchen and proceeded to
cook some for me. I sat in the kitchen waiting, and when I asked her name she told me that
she was Neiqan. She seemed to have T.B., and had a hacking cough. The wind was howling
through the place.

Obed arrived while I was eating, and when I asked if he had been hunting cuscus he
said, "No." Later, when I asked again he said that he had been. He escorted me down the
hill to my place at Kupe's house. @eiqan said that he had @aten before he had left on
his hunt, so I asked him over and ever why he hadn't brought me anything to eat, but he
answered ne!er a word.

I was very happy yesterday when Mura brought me home about five ripe bananas, but I
had them all eaten up before morning. I can't seem to stomach their old, dry pork. Mura
brought some rind last night with my rice and cassava, and it tasted terrible, so that I
only ate one little piece.

It was cassava again this morning, with some sort of greens. It seems that a girl is
"      but mr d@rim@ Mura @Lime this in Malay af@N'%/@%@%@ a girl jok@@ abm@,me@@@@@/@%@
coming along, in Buruese. This made me glad, because I love shrimp. I had some once here
before, fried.

Banulalet,January 24, 1967, Thursday.

I had a belly-ache in the morning. I relieved my bowels, but it was all hard stuff.
I couldn't eat the breakfast of cassava and vegetables that was brought to me. I am reading
1 Corinthians. I slept some. I ate some hot rice porridge for lunch, but couldn't finish it.

Temi and Mura are gone to the fields for the day. A woman- Neiqan, I believe--brought cassava
but I had to reject it. My Pulse shot up to the nineties in the afternoon. It must be malaria
trying to return. I took one of those little yellow pills that I am almost out of. I crave
a baked banana. / @ / 1

I am still so happy to be able to read God's word. Then my troubles seem to fade.
Last night I got one small eel and two shrimp, and it must iuve been the eel that made me
sick to my stomach.However, I also ate a bit of cold papeda at noon, which I couldn't
finish, and which went down like lead.

Banulalet, Friday, January 27, 1967.

The sun is shining early this morning. My left hip or thy bone is very sore. I gues
that my thies got that way because I have lost a lot of weight, and all that is left
is skin and bones, and it hurts those bones to support my weight on the hard surface of
the mat without any muscle or fat padding between. I took one more of those little yellowish
pills last night. This morning my pulse @as only 52. I had cassava and some sort of mushroom
or other fungi for supper last night. I ate better. I had also relieved my bowels again.

@ @@œ@ @ @ @ @ @@i8aF @!5 4 % $#@@s,'@ @ w @ r!g'@@@@"@B@ % 5i       @@'$@@j@@@@@w@"""-,

Mandur and Obed are back from the fields. I seem to see better  this morning. I asked
for @ @/ some hot bath water this morning, but now a terrific        wind has come up, and
rain. I took the last yellowish pill. Now I have only the big, white ones. I don't know
what they are, or how to take them. I only hope that they are for malaria! My Pulse came
down to about 50 before lunch.

Banulalet,@i4@day, January 29, 1967.

It was a windy morning with plenty of noise from the pigs, as the woman who tries
to raise the little pig in the next room is back. The big pigs were trying to get into the
house to see what the snorting was about. Last night was so contrastic to the night before,
when I guess I had the house completely to myself. I am getting better and better, and was
 cassava and salt for breakfast. Then they  ran out of cassava, and the people from the fields
didn't return in the @orning. I was @iven   a dish of so@g@ rice. Then Obed and Mandur brought
home some cuscus and shrimp. I didn't know  about the shrimp. They only had two plates 68

cassava pulp between the five of them. I didnit dream that cassava pulp stores were so low,
Nor did I know w@at was going on, and grew over eager, so that dandur went and asked for
some cassava pulp for me. My rice by now9 is used up. we didn't know what @as going on, I
repeat. Mama Mura soon arrived with plenty of cassava pulp cooked in a bamboo, and boiled
shrimp. It was very good for tsese troubled times. The people from the fields had promised
to come today, but didn't arrive and didn't arrive, until they sent two @irls down in
desperation. Before the two @i@ls got on their way, however, a little @irl of only about
four or so arrived. They couldn't seea to get any information whatsoever out of her, but the
others soon arrived with our cassava. I had cassava, salt, c@scus meat and b*ja@ greens for
supper, That was a more @@d . well-rounded meal. I was thankful.

I       had  been  reading  from  the  @inor  prophets,  but  couldn@t  finish  Malachi  before  it  was
dad@

Temi is hav@ng trouble with an elder   of Grialalet. It seems that the  elder tried to
cheatayoun@mano*'@@@@Ranaoutofhis           clothes on some kind of @@rwese  char@es havin@
to do with women. It waan't aoo clear.

Yesterday the @irls  told us that e@@ee someone had been laughing at  them down at the
little stream, and there   was wild specu@@tion about demons and vani@hing  men qra@;hilang2).

I suggested that perhaps   it was the madman who recently speared two w p    @@ii,eared
into  the  jungle,  but  they  argued  that  it  was  orang  hilang2.

I   had cassava and bajam greens this morning for breakfast. Then  I shaved,   greased and
combed   my hair, made my bed, etc. I was late for the service, and     found the   door closed
when I   arrived at Temi's house, so I sat outside, alone. Temi spoke.  After the   service I
looked   at his papers. We were talking about going to Namlea

I later went down   to the "pig house"   alone. I relieved my bowels,   but  had  to  "dig  it
out." I had to stop to  rest over and over   on both the way down,and up.

I had had a missunderstanding with the kids, and was weeping and praying as Mura cane
with   ny lunch. I gave one each of the wiute pills toJohannes and Mandur's mother-in-
law,   who are both sick with malaria after returning from the coast. I am reading 1 Peter.

Temi came, and I   read to him from several passa@es of the @ibl@. I fanally read   to him

@%@@44@/@A%y ab.,t      th, . t,,, @s Lif . I . @, . ai,ti.,ti.. b,t., . t, . , . d th,  s@irit
and he missunderstood   me, went outside, and sp@@e in anger, saying not to go against   tears,
not to go against him, God would show me,   etc. I fe@l very bad a@out the situation, especially
because the ruleis "quiet at @@uu@alet."    All left, Mura saying, "Beta sen@ su@a," over and
over as Temi talked. I read on.to myself.

s@mulalet,  monday,  @anuary  30,  1967.                                                         '
I am learning fast that you can't tell Temi   anything. @esterday he practically threw

a fit when i spoke to him about tears not i /          @ @ being all the same as the spirit.
Then he went and sat at a house at the south end   of the place and talked in Buruese to those
service, I could hear him  going on and on about tears and weeping. Then this morning, he came
with Mura, and said more.  He said that I had said not to cry too much or something, which I
denied. But,now that I    think about it, perhaps I did say somethung like that. It all ended
up with Temi going out and saying not to talk  about tears to him anymore, and to hurry up and
get well so that I could go home. Of course, I  realize now, that I had expected too much to
expect him to understand the finer things, he   is of such a primitive background.

Then he went   out  back  again  this  morning,  and  the  others  followed,  and  there  were  more
heated words.

Once, when he was talking to me this morning, he spit all over my face. I have often
been on the receiving end of such showers, baths, with him. I know he does it unintentionally,
but the whole business makes me sick.  His teeth are rotting so that he can't keep
his  spit  from  flying  when  he  gets  carried  away  in  his  talk.

I dreamed last night that I was with Mother in    @ Spain!   I long to see her.
     Mura and @emi left for the fields. I had lunch around three in the afternoon. It
consisted of cassava, a little bit of some sort of @reens, and some better terasi9

which had tomatoes in it.                                                      *

@"andur and Obed came home this aft#rrnoon @elling 0*' cuscus, and dhen I asked them
they told me that they had sotten one. I had cuscus, salt, and cassava for supper.

They brought bananas to the woman who is sick @%@@/@%%@%@@/@%@%%/@%%/@%@s/%@/ in the
other room with malaria after her trip to the coast, and I could smell their temptin@

fra@rance, but there was none for me.                                          '

Banulalet, Shursday, January >1, 1967.

There were the terrible sounds of swine all around, and other noises, but I slept in
till 7:30 or so. Itiswindy, and hasbeen windy throu#@lthe ni@ht. They brought a litt@e
dish of fried cassava and some @@@%% hot w&ter. our cassava supply is low. I canlt under@@-
stand it, with people returning from the fields just yesterday evening.Now, as I write
later, Obed tells me ti@t no one came fromthe fields yesterday. get I saw a woman with a
fodo. I %as satisfied, however, when Obed served some cassava pulpr-For a change-- fried cus
cus meat, and some type of vegetable %/ ;/

I went dom to the pig house is the afternoon, and there I relieved my bowels and
prayed. Now, as 1 write back in my bed, Obed sits beside me and tells me, % i supper tonight
or bred@fast tomorrow morning," when he had all day to go and get cassava at the fi@lds.

I ur@ed him to @@ several times, but *@-wee in vain. The woman in the next room is ver@
sick with malaria. Now she has moved out into this room, and is nn the de@o2 across from me.
I only pray that perhaps yet, someone will come with food today, but my watch says 5:50
P.M. they don't like to returnifrom the fields in the mornins, so it is no telling when I
will get my next meal.

I ate almost more than I could nold for supper! There was boiled cassava, salt, fried
cuscus with plenty of tomatoes. I love tomatoes! I think this Obed could get under m% skin
after awhile. At the evening meal, which we took at T@@i's house, Obed said that the
reason that no one c&me with food was that they expected him to come to get s@ee@*@. the
cassava. The girls had first said for him to come later in the day.

Ranu@@let, wednesd@y, J@nua@y 1, 1967.

"l'en people passed through @@b fro@ Grialalet tod@Y with damar @*,@ to sell at Le@s@ la,
so I @rote Willis again, and @lso dispatched my old letter to him. e@e@-@@@@1@-@@@@@--
Obed and Tohon had gone to the fields by moonlight in the night. Tuey arrived ba$@ today
but never offered me anythin@--if there was anything to offer-though I saw Yohannes was
chewing su@ar-cane. I had some fried k&ssava-@ut not enough ofit--for breakfast. Finding

                          h@@ had none, I sbared some of mine with her. Later on the

that Haiahor-@he sick woman- -
woman @ho is making mats brought something @)re to her.

/ Though they told @e it wa@l't, I ate what was @vidently purple ko@bili w@th
salt and red peppers for 1\@ch. One piece was bitter, and T couldn' t eat it. Anothe@-the
las@-was too slimey, and I @anaged to s@ggle it out and throw it @*y. on *p w@y ou@-            '
I had @@@e been eating in T@@'s hous@-,I went into the room and got some clean
socks out of my tin. It se@s to me that my passport and papers and things i@ve been             '

looked through, and I hope that none are lost. I had seen Obed and others loo@ng through
@'emi ' s things while he was @one, and resented it.                                            i

I found that @v heart was beating erratically once when i was about to e@:ercise my         '
legs. I was sunning m@self with my shirt off when @t started to rain, so I went in and        .
lay down. I found my pu@se to be about 54. I must still be far frem well. My heart is

Ter@ weak. Obedy-@-fl can yet have the least confidencein him, he says yes to ever@thing--       '

@ells me that t,ere is only a little of this purple kombili - @r whatever it is-@hat the         !
Buruess call maqat--left, and that the cassava is very nearly used up. I do hope that I can      @
somehow get out in time.

                                                                                            !

For supperl hadplentyof cassava, squash, salt, ana-i @mnr::so@e u@J@ @@-e@us.

When I s@Y"cassava"I generall@ mean"boiled cassa@a," unless otherwise specified.                 '

I was teaching a woman to sing "0, 0, Tuhan tolong saja," until I was too sleepy
to sing anymore.

Banulalet, Thursday, February 2, 1967.
Banulalet, Thursday, February 2, 1967.

Things got off to a late start today. There was rain in the night. w@nd. We had an
oTercast dawn. the swine were trying to get in the door over and over during the night.
This place is very noisy. Had cassava and a mixture of salt and red peppers for breakfast,
which I was served at around nine or so in the morning. @br lunch i had cassava, squash,
a@d terasi at three fifteen by my watch. '

i don't trust Obed a bit any more. de said th@s morning tbat the food was allggone.

I asked, "where?" and he said, "Both here u@d at the fields." @n@n two women left for the
fieldsl understood them to say thattherewere tow fodo'so*'food left here.

There was a cold wind all d@Y lon@. I went do m to the npig house," but couldnlt
relieve my bowels. I finally found the daesaqkabun trail away back up the hill to this
side of the "pig house," so it does not go by the pig house like Obed told me it did at
all.

Obed said that there wereno tomatoes whenl asked forF@@ acouple--in the evening,
I think it was--but when they served me tomatoes and some pieces of fried eel in the evening
he told me that the tomatoes had been here since yesterday. @e also told me that no one came
home from the fields today, but when I asked where the e@l was from I was told that Neiqan
brought it today. Ach! He said t@nt Mura is coming at midday tomorrow, and that "Bapa"
has called him to come to the fields tomorrow, I surely hope that he is right about Mura,

I miss her se@@ice so much. Meals were close to re@ular when she !as here, and she always
tried to provide something for me besides cassava and salt. I could talk to her.

@his mealtime irregularity is so hard to take for one trying to recouperate from lon@
@@"œS@; @ @3 @e@"@F,@@@@"F@.œi@r @,@1@@"@ @@e@@@tl@@@@"b@f@,s@@ @ @a: @' N:œ $f@@"""

@iulalet,Friday,FB@rt@ry3,l967.

Neiqa4, the tubercular with the hacking cough, is preparing breakfast this morning,
but I sat up readin8 till about eight in the morning in @emi's old, windy house, and there
evidently wasn't even a @ire started. A wanan had come, but only to sweep. There was no one
tnere, but when @opi came and called for hisq[na" and started to cry w@en he found that she
wasn't there, I heard other children tell him not to cry, for she was gone to the wwae."
It is now 8:24 by my watch, which is probably behind, if anything. I set it by the sun
when it s@opped, but it must be pretty close to right. Obed left only this morning for the
fi@lds, evidently *ithout eating, and I somehow feel very happy to have him gone.

The night was very cold, but the %rind died dom. They made a fire in the only other
room in the house, and the @oke ii'ritated my respiratory system.

The morning is overcast. I succeeded in relieving my bowels, but it was all hard stuff.
@     I don't think that I'II ever understand why these people don@t improve their conditions.
@hy they have absolytely no inventiveness. How, say, they can stoop to raisin. a pig in
their bedrooms. dhy none of them do somethiw@ to windproof the@@ houses a.ainst the cold
when clothing is so scarce.
             It consisted ol'plenty or cassava, salt, and @round up red peppers.
I finally got breakfast at 9; 35 by *Y watch. @It is now past three in the afternoon,
and there is stillnno lunch. I hear a plane passing in the distance to the north.

My watch said 4:1@ P.M. ere I t my lunch. It was cassava and salt. Supper came '
afterdark.Itwassalt and cassava V.@i s@ocmfo : e] i ofthepelita.I didn'tfinish

                        *y supper, It b,: .           --      -        - -.

It was windy, cold and overcast all day, but the sun came out a little bit after
breakfast.

@nulalet, Saturd@y, Febrt@ry 4, 1967.

It was a cold night. In the early morning the swine were squ@aling li"ke mad. They
feed the hig pi@s @t TBnils house in the morning. Ther@ they feed tF@s little monster
in the bedroom at night and early in the @orning when the big pigs are hungry, so th*t the
one that squeals so badly spends the ni@ht trymng to knock the door down. Banulalet is
certainly no p@ace of peace to me! It seems ironic tbat I have to go down to the "pig house@
to get away from their squeals @hen that is actually where they are supposed to belon@.

I heard a plane flying past to the north at 9:20 A,M,, but there was still no food.

Breakfast did come at around 9:45, and consisted of cassava and salt, but there was also
sometype of jungle fungi with it.
            At >: 30 a woman--Haiaho, I believ@--comes and asks Yohannes where the waja is for
       making a fire, sits down on the opposite bed, and says she is hungry! I had lunch at 4:15
       P.M. again. But I had a real treat this time, though there wasn't enough of it. They were
       out of cassava, so they fried some plain cassava pulp, and it was really good. They didn't
       use any salt, but I begged for some and used it, and it really improved matters, of course.
       They fry the cassava pulp up in little cakes.

            one or two women have arrived from the fields, but only @ith @@a@eda." Imagine tbat,
       when cassava is sapposed to be so scarce, and there is no meat here whatsoever. They assured
      me @@it Temi and Mura will arrive later, but I am in doubt with the sky so overc&st and the
      west wind so strong.

            After break@ast tod@Y the sun had come out, and I had @one walking dom the waesan@abun
       trail, I feel now that I can understand somewhat the beliefs in @anishing people of the
      forest. @ith the combination of bi@ds, wind and insects, I myself heard voices many times.
      I read from the acts and prayed and sang. I went do@n, and then up to a level stretch, and
      that was about as good as I could do. I find that I am still very weak, mainly in my heart
      8@@ @8@d: My heart mostly@ I think. When I stoo@ up straicht my pulse seemed to about double.
       When-1 sat or lay it dropped @ay down. once @ timed it at 67. @hen I !as walking it must
      have reached 150 or so at times, ana my heartbeat was erratic. I had to stop and rest so @@ehr
      much.

           It's 5;23, and Mama Mura and a girl just ar@lved got long @;0 with cassava., I am e*@r@e@e@
       overjo@@d to see her - greatly in hopes, of cours@,of an improvement in diet. God help us!

      Waebohit, Thursday, Februar$ 9, 1967.

@           After my last entry on Saturday I ate a supper of cassava and vegetables, if I reme@ber
       correct@y.

             on Sunday morning I went up and joined the others at Temi's house for the morning @ee**@e
       serqice. I prayed the opening prayer, led the service, and delivered an impromptu @ermon on
       "The 8eed Growing in Se@ret." I think ti@t t@ey underst@od my @uruese pretty well.

            we had the cuscus that they brought yesterday boiled for lunch. After a day of good

       COIn@J8@iO@Shili with `@@ni--wA@-Mi-e@@@eed-@e@l@>i-@@@@@e@i-@@@ @ -with w@Oom I 8@ on good terms

      a@ain-.APer, De@i, Wand@ng and@Fosesarri@edin the e@ening and said that Willisis at Wa@-

       bohit and wanted them to bring me back tomorrow. I told t@em that I was very weak, but they
            i@

      laid hands on me and pr@yed for God to give me strength tomorrow. A@er and Demi are N@@latu.
      A@e@ came with Willis. Demi is the acting pastor of I@ ang. @andang is a youth from Waebohit,
       and Moses is still rather a boy.

            @@ley brought four of the kind of candy bars that come in the brom wrapper and s4y
       "Nut" something on them, canned goods, two kinds of vitamine, and malaria pills. I was
@     overjoyed, of course. I had been so in need of vitamin "C".

            I ate a half can of corned beef with my cassava that ni@ht. t@hen I was ready to sleep
       I called for Amer, who dela@ed and delayed comins. They were visiting @bawana") with Temi
       till late. u$en he did come @ asked him to arran@e for someone to ' ahead with me
       early in the morning before breakfast, because I knew that I would be so slow, and didn@t
       want to waste precious daylight. He reluctantly said that he a@reed with my request when
       I pressed the issue. My plan was for @ / the others to follow with food later, as I
       didn't want to wait here for another 9:00 A.M. breakfast.

            As it turned out on Monday morning we finally ended up eating first, and never got away
       before it was 8:@0 by my watch, and even then i had to start out down the trail alone.
       Amer had been talking with @emi. He said that he "atur"-ed for me last night. 'dlat only served
       to fire my righteous indi@nation the more. It is not easy to live with the Biruese.

            my weakness really hit me @F@e@-w@- whes we had cro@sed the first stream after the
        turn-off, and i developed a pain in my belly. i could barely walk.

            At the Waerapat I ate some rice and a cold can of soup. I was extremely weak on the
      ascent beyond the Rapat, and the ascent was extremely steep. It must have taken me one to
@@ two hours, but I have forgotten now. We followed along the mountain ridge at high elevation.
 The skies became overcast to the point where it was so dark th@at it became hard for me to
 see. I prayed for the rain to keep off, and it rained on the left and on the right, and
 when we got up ahead the trail seemed wet as if it had rained there also, but we were dry.
 Allafternoon we walked along the ridge, then descended to the Wae Tina vb@+ 4@@i@0
ford yet another small stream @@ cross yet one more @A little ridge ere we drew near.
It got dark on this little ridge, and Amer had to lead me like a blind man past the steep
@@@ke slopes and through the underbrush. We didn't actually reach the WaeTina herself that
night, but % ended our descent at the @ little Waehiri where I bathed, and / near
where the others found the little walang in which we spent the night. / /@ /

We had some coladium, cassava and canned corned beef for supper. It was cold during the
night from the sibu thuat came off the river. de were awake before dawn, and got ! /$ @
@%%%/ Amer 8Tidl 80t off around 7:@J A.i"i.  After eating some pastey rice and cassava@ @/@
@#@%@/%@N@N%@@S/W@ @ ' .t,.ith...--,d,@ .f,.@- @,, .a@ .,.t @,@-@@, .@y
was rocky, and I dA@ for@@t Iny shoes. @"tey ot@@ers caught up with us while I was relieving
my bowels at a small stream. I am @@@/@@@@@s@@ I was not doing as well today.
                   long
We climbed a @%g@ ascent and followed a ridge all afternoon. Then we descended to the
Waenama, which we forded,and / scaled the precipitious ascent to the ridge behind
Liang, where it was misting. I was stronger this time.

I was running off to my bowels on the descent to Liang, and was understandably surprised
when I was called by the familiar voice of Derek Behuku as I was crouching down at my last
squatting place by the trail.

We crossed the headwaters of the Nalbesi and ascended to the village of Liang, where
we entered Andi Hukunala's brother's house. There they served us a fine meal of dried
cuscus meat, fried dried pork fat, and coladium. Then I had to let Wandang show me to the
jungle for a last B.M. Then I went to bed.

Next morning, Wednesday, we had more fried pork fat for breakfast, plus fresh corn.
I left with Derek at about 8:00 A.M., and was at Waebohit in about four hours time.

I grew a little emotional at seeing Jack, but didn't break. It was after fording the
stream that I looked up and saw him standing at the top of the rise in @ 4 @ white jungle
helmet, just like in the movies! We shook hands and then climbed on up the steep side of
the chasm to the village.

There was wonderful food at Oom Chor's i was glad to see him. He had also been sick
with malaria, and the reason that he had been so long in helping me was that he himself had
been unable to find any pills. We had good fellowship all through the afternoon, and a
                         delicious cup of instant coffee in the evening.
on my trek from Banulalet I had spoken sharply to my four companions on several see@e
occasions. The last was when they were all laughing hilariously at Jack's "pose."   I informed
them in no uncertain terms that we were not posing Ambonese, but were here to preach the
gospel. I had also had an argument with Amer, when I told him to go ahead and inform
Willis of my arrival before we reached the Waenama, and he was in agreement with me, and
'         me. I saw in this that old Oriental lav of the pack, and I was disgusted to think that
he would deliberately disobey me when we were nearing Liang, and had no more need of his
help. An undisciplined nature is anathema to me. As I rewrite this later I should like to
add that I have found that there is a rule with the buruese that they do what feels right at
the moment to them rather than what they reason to be right with their mind.

This morning we had Quaker oats for breakfast, plenty of coffee with milk, fried bananas,
"pancakes," etc.

I worked w@@@-B@ on a translation of John 1 with Oom Chor from mid-morning till noon,
and then a big part of the afternoon.

We had coffee in the afternoon and I sat with Jack for awhile. Desen came and sat in
the doorway. We had an horrific rainstorm.

Leksula,D@day, February 12, 1967.

I don't recall any special events on the ninth but on the tenth Oom Chor went
to Leksula, so I attempted to do some translating on my own. I suppose thatI did fairly
well for a beginning, but I am still suffering from a short vocabulary. By the ninth and
tenth Jack Willis was getting pretty bored. He can't @e@ relax. On the tenth we received
word that they wanted Jack for services at Leksula, so, on the eleventh I was forced
to leave against my desire with Jack, as Oom Chor and Mama Doka wanted to be at Leksula
when the Waihuri II arrived so as tol ar :      i A@               ; adl i      0 @@ : that
Leksula who told us thlat a cable had                  @r@@ @@@ii .       """ "              --
the Waehuri II was to leave for Namlea and Leksula that same day (the I1th). If they
had only come yesterday and told us we could have stayed on until the thirteenth or so.
ae didn't reacn Lek@ula until about one in the afternoon--approximately four hours from
Waebohit. the sand was so hot in the village that I couldnlt bear to walk on it in my
bare feet, so I had to uait amon@ the staring shhool-kids until " ack went and got Derek
to bring me back my shoes. de wentoon up to the empty pastorate instead of to Bertls
house, where jack was sitting. I hid in the bedroom with my backl ainst the wall to get

away from the staring eyes, but even they crowded around out i @it b Aoo walls
                                                     ou@side the @oom at

@@ peep in at the cracks. Ucu Yom came and brousht my walking-stick.

In the end Jad@ arrived, so I got off my haunches to eat a lunch of fried bananas
and corned beef and drink @escafe and sweetened condensed milk for cream . @ack had evi

                                                            i         i

dently sent my an inferior @rade of corned beef to me at Banulalet, and betrayed himself
wheu he started ra@ing about the assets of the brand we were eating.

In the afternoon we went to the Pancoran Besi, and there I had a bath at my own
leasure with my own soap for the first time in quite awhile.

On the way home we neard a motsr, ana discovered that it was the D.N.N. boat from
Ambon.

I ate m tremendous amount of rice, coladium, fish, kuah and pork for supper, and
also drank two glasses of warm, watered-down, sweeten@d, condessed milk for supper.
1 had felt ashamed to have *izished the rice and the pork, especially because Jack left
me at the table alone to go ask about the boat. @hen I found that they had an @m eating in
the ba , af er m i d a friendly chat I fear that her intentions had more to do with Ilis'
- u@h we -- ra.

I went visiting with Bert solisa in the afternoon. It was interesting. de wan 0
take aprahu-load of copra to @1urabaja this year.

In the evening c.A. serviceJack spoke en the telt, "Iam the way,.t@e truth, and
the life." It was dry. In the same ser@ice I testified about my sickness@ @lurney, and
                                                                      salvation.

Bert Left @e-S$@@-eem@ for @awiri in the night to get some bananas to send @e on the
Waihuri II to dona in Ambon.

I got up and washed a bit late this morning. Jack got up and pissed on the bedroom
floor, and @ feel sure that the women in the kitchen heard him. I couldn't find any place
to piss,myself, and didn't want to do waat jack had done u d embarras myself.

de had"@u@ker Oat4' honey, sweet milk, fried bananas and cassava for brea@fast, plus
Nescafe, of which @ drank two @lasses.@uit was this morning, the morning of the l2th.

@uring bred@fast I ad@ed Jadc if there were any women about. @e said, "@0." I then
went to the empty east room and started to piss, but was interrupted by the arrival of
a woman in the hut. I stood up and went out, and she asked me what I was loo@,ng for. I
saw that there were two women sitting on the bench. p@@ee* wondering, I asked Jack, and he
said tbat one of them had @een sitting there all alo@@. Dear me! I don't think tbat ahhf
saw, but feel sure that if she indeed were sitting there she must have heard. I got my
uL@nce before church, however, when All had left to get ready.

In the morning service Jack spoke from Acts 1:8 about testifying. It was a @ood
message for the people, but Jack, as usual, was rather dry. I was singing well this
morning.

I had p@enty more for lunch today@ rice, cassava, coladium, pork, some fried pieces
of pork--which @e@e@-@-@@@ which I later finished off completely, and sweet-potato stew.

In the evening   service Jac@ spoke on La@arus and the Rich Man @ He seeued under
great pressure, and   @@-@@@-@- it was hot there, on the platform, with the pressure lanterns.
After the sermon he   came and sat beside me and s@@@-t@a@-he-@@@@-a expressed a consciousness
of evil presence to   me. Just then it seemed that all hell broke loose outside. One 0@ the
villa@e elders came   into the church compound and whipped at a boy with a rattan rod. There

had been crowds of people gathered outside the church walls to hear the sermon, and this
act of the elderls caused them to stampede like a herd of cattle. ( -we later heard that
this action on the pert of the'@rotestants" only served to make the boy's motner an@@y
and threaten to "masuk Sidang.
L@@sula,Monaay@?egruaryl@l@z7.

It is now past 4:@J P.w.,  and there is still no *@ihurill. the D.@.N. ooat left
ou@ this morning. @oke Lesnusa  is completely backslidden in such a short ti@e, and tried
torunoffwith@@@woneofthe        D.@.N. boat's crew members - a married man! @er older
brotuerorsister-@dont@@low      w@uch--put herin thekitchen and nailed the door snut
to keep her f@sm @etting away.  It seems that Sam Soukota jilted ner and tanja-ed so@e

other girl some other place without even letting her know t@lt their affair was o@f.

I don't have much prestige around here beside Jack, who they really t@@e to be
somebody! It has really been a fine experiesce being here forhim,'outheis so al@ious
about @etting home. 1 t@isk that this anxioussess of his overrides everythin6 else in

him so that he can't e@3e@ really enjoy in mself. In a way he @ets hard to live with, out
with my more Irmber nature we get along ok@y.

I hope that tAis e@@@@@@e@-- waiting cosdition doan't last lon@. 1 just bury
myself in study, prayer, or trasslation, and donit even notice, but it is hard of Jack,
who lives differently.

de had a fine brea@fast this morning of hot fried @pAM, honey, coffee, fried @
coll8dium and basanas, and salt. There was milk with our coffee. I much prefer colladium
to cassava.

Bert solisa was back from Kawiri today.

Emo Behuku took Jac@ ana w@it to the police with my pass. They @ave my pass back,
but held willis'. the wonders never cease!

I read some today.

All our food has Oeen without vegetables, and we feel that it is because they
sare afraid to serve t@em to u@, so Jack dropped a hint before lunch. But even then
we nad no luck! bur lunch consisted of fried pork,and potatoe-and-e@g soup.

jack went to bed in the afternoon, but I st@yed up and studied Kevelation. I also
visited with Oom Chor.

Tinus and Derek arrived and took Jack up to see the burial cave U@at 0@@ @e had
told me about, long a@o. I read on alone.

@hen Jadr returned we had fried bannaas, and were about to leave for our bath
when Jack aiscovered ti@t the to@le was set for supper! Just after we *L@d fi@ished @ 1
those tiananas. Th@re was saltless goiled chicken and more fried pork.

jack was waiting for me in the front room, and we wese off for our baths at lAd
about 6:4@ P.M.

@e had heard a shot earlier, and now we heard another on the trail, and met Eu@,
Derek, Onko Senb9 and Tinus - who had a peeled pineapple, which he sliced is two and
ea"e to Jack a"d me- It was sour, but I was glad for the fresh fruit. Wwy were unsuccess
*'u1 in their hunt.

Problem: I*"inally@ottoo full and felt likei was abouttopop!

At sea @ff South @uru Coas @ @hursday, February 10, 1967.

The @a@huri II arrived ada@or t@o ormore ago with Crai@ W@llis and A@di Hukusala
aboard. Andi had to@en the liberty of coming from Namlea, and had my suitar aboard. I
later found that he had also brought eight of my Bibles to sell at a better price in $
SOuth Buru, when i had brought t@em to Hamlea from dpbon, p@yis@ my own money for them
as a service to the @a@lea and @orth Buru work. I had @iven him instructioss to sell them
at a modest price and use the money to live on, and i@ he felt the leadin. 0@ the Lord to
present them to certain individuals to do so. It now seems tkat Ardi had othfr ideas.
     At about nine oclock tius morninc @erek @ehuku came and said for u@ to hurry,
because, "the boat is about to leave," so we ate our lunch at about ten. ?nen we
waited and waited, sut the @ainuri II never left until nearly three in the afternoon.

Andi @@ a@soiaboard, and, on a hunGh, I asHed Crai@ if he had seen Ardi wearing a
wristwatch at any time after they ik@d left Namlea, and he said he had. ahes oe descrived
it his description perfectly fit the watch that I had left with A@di, telling him never
to wear it except, if @ecessary, during serv@ces. He had been careful sever to wear it
in my presence in Leksula or aboard the ooat. I called An@i @ unulala, anu he owned up
to havingit, and returnedit to me.I found that hehad also taken myl"laskdi@Rt, @pd
but that one item I was never to see a@ain.

Ambon, %riday, @ebruary 17, 1@@7.

we arrived at Gudan. A$am at about seven or ei@ht this morning, r@mming the smaller
boat thœt we tied up alon@side of, and damaging its roof. I uanag@d to ma@e it ashore
without getting hurt.

It had been raininb all morning, and I had been sitting atop the cabin with my
pandanus mat over me, w@*@*@@-m@-@@@wees arran@ing my @lossary of Buruese wo@ds. It
seems that someone tried to pick my poc@et then, but failed.

I had spent the ni6ut in Da Luhukai's cabin, out it had rained, and the roof ind
leaked li@e a sieve. the dec@ above had cargo pil@d all over it, u@i I hate to think of
just what @11 mi@ht nave been polluting my @e@@@@a- involuntary bathl My @u'tar bvt
through without getting wet, out my belly @@t upset, and I felt miserable my the time
1 was sitting of the ca@in-top in the morning, @ur provisions had consls*ed of cold
ooiled ca@sava that was alittle"bitter and some canued sardines, all of whic@ were
soa@ed by the Qrip@isgs from t@t cei*ing during the ni@ht. It is hard to descri@e my
miseraole@ess is words, out I can still remember the feeling as I rewrite this diary
now, two years later.

Jac@ @ored an oplet t@ the churcn for ap2OJ.@here we left          the bulk 0*' our
baggage, to@ing only wimt we needed with us to @ate2.t@d@

Jack, Craib, @ere@ and 1 got of a PaSO bus and got off at Galala. @e paid @p7.50
perperson, wr@chis thePaso fare. @D@m G@lalawe took aPrahu toKate2, whicn we
dlartered mrAp$@

Sister @iilis and the studests came out to meet us and commented on how tsin 1 was.
@n@ sun was shining @ri@htly by them. I found that my typewriter from @is@apore was
waitinb for me!

@ate2, Saturday, @ebruary 1@, 1967.

I tzink .nat it was early today &lat I wrote to Wither. de went to town and got the
rest 0@ our @ear, leavine Our p@SSeS @t the police,e@e@@e@r and forgetting my @ u tar.
un our way home @e s@opped at my place, and I got out a new pair oi KEDS. rhen we stop
ped to buy ice at Ma@iika. The truck west off the shoulder along past paso, sut @-@e@ek
another truc@ stopped and puiled us out.

@e are navis@ Im@rveloas meals. In the afternoon I froze some @ce-creun with Jack,

a@d we @ad pleuty of it witn delicious chocolate topping. Then Craig and ; went fishinb.

@e went fis@@ng a@ain in the night, Crai@ and I, and cau@tt 11 or more of those
little barracudas oetween us using the @illis's li@rt rods and reels. de had a pressu@e
laatern with us to attrac@ the fish. A little before midnight Jac@ came down to the pier
and flashed his electric torch about (his flashli@@t) and called out, and we ret@rned
home, arriving home before midnid@t. de had been far out when Jack had called us. It had
bees a lovely night, and the sea had bees dead cal@. de k@d gotten started with oait $iL@t
Solomon patiwael @ave us. @hen we % : got in near the canoe landis@ a little swordfish
jumped @@@e ri@ht isto our canoe, attracted by the li@lt. The barracudas had only oeen
bitisg well is the be.ining, and @ @ fewer and fewer as the evenis@ wore on. @e had
driftea far out by the ti@e Jac@ called for us. @hen we got to the house Jac@ explained
         @ate2, Suaday, @ebruary 19, 1967.

Jack preac@ed in the morning service. @ente Baba made a roast for luscn. It was
another wonderful meal, of course. Tomatala spo@e in the egening service.

Kate@ Monday, @ebruary R@ 1967.

I stayed home and worked on my Buruese @lossary today.

@ate2, @uesday, @ebruary 21, 1@@7.

I west to @mbon wlth Jack, Mary, and Craig. @hey went for blood tests, tNt I refused
to take one for fear of hepatitis or otuer infection because of the unsanitary conditions.

@illises said that they were @sing the same needle on everybody, but used separate needles
on the @ill@ses.

I went to the police and asked for my pass. Borrowims Rpli@i from mary I sent a cable
to Carltilom. I went to the @rahu harbou@ tiut was unsucces@@@l in findinb transportation,
thoa@h someone nad said tiut t@ere was a perahu leaving for Buru today. There is evidently
a new man at the little customs shack there.

I bou.nt a candy oar and talked to a man at '@3k0 @he, and to a woman on the sidewalk.
@here were a coup@e of smali boys that walked alonb be@tind me once, and seemed to be
chanting somethinb that was intended as an insult @Q me, so I s@@ng around and struck
them both with one blow.

@e returned to Kate2 and had luncn with Paul and Oom souisa, who were tuere to
teacn today. Afterward I told t@em bout b@@nulalet and the s*@@@@*e@-*@-@@@@- present
situation in b"uru. I@ the rest ol" the afternoon I worked with Teda Yom on my Buruese
@lossary, out @otno farthert@an the "B's". Crai@ was too sick to g0*"ls@@n@, althou@l
they said that the Dlood test showed ne@ative on malaria.

hate@ @ednesday, @@bruary 2@ 1907.

I typed up verses from Danieal about the fourth beash. Willis was @)ne 06œ to town
y@in tras mornin.. I wrote a letter to paul about a meeting with APdi @mrunala.

@ate@ @hursd@y, Sebruary 2@, 1@67.

Saul anU @hm @anus came a.ain today.

ee@s@R-@@-@$@anN.@$.

@ate@Saturday.@ebruary2@,l9@i@.

I          --      *---@--@-

@e went to town m@t the car was too full for Andi and A@er@ I tried to get my pass
ba@; from the police, but Irene was @one a-marci@ing. Amer and Apdi didnlt sho@ up. I
went to my place, w@d @ so to the Patipelohi's.

Ka$@@and@@,@ebruary2o.l@o7.

EnB @ermite spokel"rom Epncsians 20n the topic "But God"this morninbi@ the morni@b
service. I went to town in the aftcrnoon with the gan@ for an E@glish service, out it
rained, and not many people cuu@ out. I met @jak Kaihatu's wife forethe first @lue. @n
the w@y home @n the truck I sasg with the studests. Ulis Umuli spo@e in the evening ser

vice at @ate2. It was dead. U w electriceli@nts were turned off because of fuel leakin@
into the oil.

K=@0 , W @ @ @- @ebr@@ry 2@ 1967.

Sometime rather late in the morning Jac@ aillis rode me to *a@nahti@a 0@ thf back
0@ the scooter. I saw Paul S@nupuring on the way. The bus fare from Gaiala to A@bon was
@p5 and the perahu fare from @u@a@tiga to Galala was ap2.
     I dropped a ma@azinc off at Patipelohi's house and then went of to eat at toe
Gelora. uere are some prices: Mie @oreng special, @p2Oi nasi @oren@ special, dP2S;
ice-water, Rp2.50.

I received me books form @other today, and read some from them. deturning to the
church 1 t@lked some more with paul and gave Dode uneputi a fifty rupiah offering. T@en
I went on to Galala, crossed over by canoe, and walked to @ate2 from @ww@hti@a.

@ate2, @wsday, @eoruary 28, 1@07.

\              *-*-*----

Paul and @hm @anus cuae a@ un today. Nillis and Bertiu went to town to see the
docter, and arrived oac@ late for lunch. @here wasnit enough rice, as usual.

"ate2, wednesd@y, @arcn 1, 19b@.

@ wor@ed at typi@@ @hm danus' soul doctrine with my own variations. auuetiat duri@@
the day some people came in a motorboat and borrowed a screwdriver. I had an early oatn
and went wlaking, p@ying Tante Zji @zenu a visit. @@en I went down and stood on the @u@y
talklns with the @@rls until siintfall. rhalia and @dna Hutom had been swiEuin.. I
played aominoes with the @illises in the evening.

@ate, @hursday, @arcn 2, l@bT.

paul and @hm Ranus ca@e a@alS today. 1 was doing a cro@sword puzzle un@il tea time9
after which @ did more wor@ on the "soul doctrine." paul got his hair cut today. The
komu werejumpin@on the Day. @ehad lovely sunny, wi@,y weather today, with the west
wind blow@n@. Willis wor@ed on the lid @plant and tiunks that he got it fixed.

@ate@ Aarch >, 1@67,

Thsy found that the li.zt plant was still leaking. I am getting bored, and am too
tired to type/ the eveuing is @ore enjoyable without lichts, as the peopie tend to @et
outside mor@.

@ate2, Saturday, @arc@ 4, 1@67.

I we@t $$ town, @at t@ere was still no money at the bank for me. @ invited some
guests to A@te2 for ain@er tomorrow.

a@.day, @arch @, 1@b7.

de had a com@union service t@@s morning, and 6t@e "atu spo@e on the subiect of c
co@m@u@on. I felt thatit wasratn.r dryf'or such, really, though others seeued to oein
a prayin6 mood afterward.

Patiselano, Har"@ *usa'@ota and @ert Nikiulu came out for dinner today, and we had
al"inedinner, of course, in the Aperican style. There waslots ofveriaty.

Jack is so dull, and was makinc sucn a fool of himself by criticizing literature,
a subiect he obviously @sows little aDout. I was dead-bored, and a little fed up with
the whole mess. These @illises are such vul@arians (I learned tuat word in "@J @@nutes a
Day"), so crude. @ley iupre no ap?reciation at all for the @iner thin@s, and are too naive
to be as@amed to show it(except for the Mrs., that is .

I went back to town with our buests in their @@at jeep, but didn't @ake it to church

for the evenis@ service. I am relieved to be home.

@anday, March 6, 1@07.

@he @aihuri isn't leaving today after all. 1"r@@- I took care of different tiangs
tod@y. "

                   @e%@œi@@@"llid arrive, and nels a service at the stadium after
a politically-stid@inb speech by a deputy from the deFartment of religion. @ante Tin%
       M@@h, 1@07

7. I believe @ @t it was today that I saw Fred Tehupuring and went to the library.
There is still no ooat to Hamlea. @ante @@n is cooking for me. I am broke. Inggu was
at the service again this evening. @oekendijk spoke @bout the name of Jesus, and the
healing at the Gate Beautiful. @.llis called me after the service, and I met the evangelist
@oekendijk's h@fe. @iliis was @aking a stink because @oekendiJks canit or wonlt come out
toK8te2tomorrow. Some kids followed me to @@llis' car, and @@t insulting.'Fney tried
to irab my walkizg stick out of my nand as the car moved off with me sltting in the rear.
I struck out at them instinctively with the stick, but missed them. Nillis @ad to drive
bac@ to Patimura Street, as Tanah @in@gi is one-way. The dids threw roc@s at the car and
one of them hit @illis. @e stopeped the car and the kids ran. Jack yelled, "bodon!w I
shouted for them to catcn the one that threw the rock as other voices scolded in the nibht.
I d feel so humiliated, always, by the Apbonese rabble, who think that they are some
thing they aren't, uld don't know what t@ey are.

@" I met Willis at paul's at allittle a*@er ten in the morning, by appoint@ent. fhere
was still no money @or me. I saw the @ans. My pants arestt ready yet.I saw the @ @ls.
I went up to Luhukais with @illises @ld saw the @oekendijks. I saw Teko t@ere in his
glasses for @@e first time. Luhu%ai showed me the pictures oi his dai meetin@s.
@oekendijk finally @ad to excuse hiwself and cet bu@y on his own work. I @@anked Oom
Luhu@ai for his help in providing the @aihuri II at my time of distress, to rescue me
from duru. I went to Kate2 with willises. @@ heart was in my mouth on the way with Jac@ s
senseless speeding. I kept silentmostof'the way@ @hereis good food atKate2, tu@
neverenoachofit for me. I had a69'0d cnatwith@eri in the afternoon whileitrained.
@e is compl@ining about Willis and his many rules. Be s@ys that Willis dosnit even have
them strai@ht in his own i head. @e felt a little despondant aoout the spiritual @

situation in the school. he also felt bad atiout an adulter@r, snaring the
pl2tform witn Asse@@ly 0@ God ministers in the evangelistic services in Apbon. / dillis
was laying down the law in the afternoon, that if there were any girls st@ying home
toni@nt that t@ere wouid have to be a teacher there to watch tnem, and that tEey would

@ave to stiudy as usual. I felt sick. I spm@ the rest @6 the afternoon reading from a
Bibledictiouary t@t " foundinJack'soffice.'@w kids were sin@is@on the wayin to
Ambon, and Crai@ was playino his u@@ilele off be@t. It was cloudy, as if it were uun@
to rain. I left them at the P.0. and walked on home. I didnit attend the service at the
stadiu@ toni@ht, but stayed home and read some. de had no li@hts toni@nt.

9. @hursday.- I found @@at @ had mosey in the bank, but addressed to @illis, @@-w@e
so I couldn't get it out. It was over Rp6,O@O. I borrowed Rp250, paid Loya back his @p7@,
and got my pants at the tailor's. I heard that the @aihuri II is leaving tomorrow. I
weMt and bar@ained for a lin@ua wood chest.

In the afterzoon I we@t to Oom Masus' house, and he .ave me back my soul paper
manuscript that i @@d @Tven him to look at. ae th@n explained his*principalities @ld
"     powerd'theory to me, drawing pictures on the f@oor with cr@tlk. Tante brou@@t us an
orange drink. Oom Masus told me that he was wearing a"4ylon" shirt, but when I loo@ed
at him I saw that tie was naked from the waist up! I also stopped and said hellp to Tante
Ea@./ In the afternoon I saw dillis and spo@e to him about the money of mise that was in
ban@ under his name. /In the service at the stadium this evening @oe@endijk spoke about
th@ woman with the issue of blood. -@@ere was a horrific rain, and i got soa@ed. I gave
my bible and papers to Bertha, who was sittisg in the back of the truck, then loo@ed
around for a shelter around the truck. I ended up standing with my shirt off and coverin@
my oack at the frost end of tze truck. Some @irls came laugbing in the darkness, and all
gotunder some sortoftarp rightin front of me. Oneofthem touched oneo*@@y @eftribb

with   her*-lsger, and as%edme to getin with them. @ replied that@ wastoo wetalready. @nfy
Kept on ur@ing. they were nice, @id I tiunk that they must nave been e@@nese. They didn't
seem to nave that humiliating attitude about t@em /@@ter the service I wal@ed up to the
@as pump at the end of @anantin@gi street with Oom Etcha pelupesi and Jon Parihala. Oce
Latu gusthave oeard @@ ma@ing arran@e@ents, forhe came and st@odin @"rontofme, placin@
both hands on my sho @ ders, and said, "Good ni6ht Joe," I can't understand him, and thin@
perhaps @e was also wal@ing. I also think he's a little nuts, ma@be /I too@ a betcha
home @'r@m the pump.

10, @Tiday.- Willis c@le to my house, ana arrived just as 1 was puttin. my pants on.
@/$ Hewondered whvT w@@latet@@av@ @,,en @r@iol@v wph@@ n@ onn@in@non+ a.=n+ @n+@
r

March, 19@7.

bank, %@@% There was @p6,@90 for me, and I gave Willis 1,@90, then started spelding.I
bou@ht: ose cnest, @p7da; one saw, @p225; one plane blade, Rp175; one h@mmer, @p175;
one lock, Kp75; one file, Mp7S; one oven, ap450; 5 cans of milk, Rp37@; one basin, Mp7@;
aix boxesofinsect coils, ap3O; one ounce o*'yeast, @p@5. After thisl had @p2,@-@5 left,
from witicnl nad to payback Paul'sloan 01"@p250. @@sl gotl6kilogramsof rice and
iive kilo@rams of su@ar and paid a becak fare and tip for Tante Ata, @ @ of which cost
me Rp3S2.@@. then I had to pay Kp@J@/@@%g @@% for more pants. Then I had to p@y @p @J@
for rent. I bou@@t a book for Rp55.

"            11. The @illises dids't come t@us morning. I bou@ht a book called "The Varieties of @
@elisious Bxperie@ce@ by w. J@ses for Rp@5, probabl@ the one listed in yestcrd@y's entry.
I saw @eti @ataheru sitting on a fence in front of an office, and stop?ed to sit and tal@
with him foramoment.I had to chaseall over to find BaLuhukai, only t0*-lndt@k@tt@e
aaihuri @I is not leaving. @e told me that the B.0. is also not leavin., but I later
@'ound thatit @adleft tod@y. ? Itwasvery hot, andl lay on my maton the floorreadin@
@"or awhile. @eti camein tnelater afteraoon, and after my bath and teaweleft thehouse
to@ether, separating at the @as pump at the end of Tasahtinggi street, from where he
went home, probabl@, and I went on to Patipelobi's. patipelohi wasnit @orking today, so
we talked some, but did rather poorly, as patipelohi was tired. I went home by becak,
but with Bert Nikiulu riding beside me on his bicycle all the way. @The s@@ oac@@e over
casti@thelaterafternoon, andl didn'tgo to the service at the stadium, t@ough @illises
did .0.

12. SUnday.- It was rainy t@ns mo@@ung, and I skipped church, almost fo@@etting wnat day
it was. I read some, also played my buitar and @ang. As I was a@out to leave for @akar
besi's I crashed my head on an open window @@d broke my glasses frames. At aakarbesi's
I@'ound everytzing shutup, and decided that t@ey were sleeping./ I f,ltlow, andin
need of a cnange after my accident and the insults of the Apbonese all along the way.
@ wal@ed baS@, and would have g@nehome, but someone greetedmypoorbody witn, "Jo-JO!w
from up @anahtinggi street, so I went on toward the church. There I saw willis' @ar par@ed,
and decided that I would like to talk to them for a ghange. A@ I was walkint I saw
mddi Forst on a bicycle, and he told me that he had married a 8hristian @;@1 about a year

-         a@o. / At the office I saw Jack, @arv, Craig, paul and Else. dillis @@d I wa@Bed to
Loya'sto get some medicle supplies forMary. @e bougzt candy barsforus. @hen we @Qt
bac@ he borrowed Paul's scooter, and went to bert Ni@iuluis house with me. @uere we sat
and talked for Iwhile, then went on to the service at M@e stadium, where @rs. Hoekendijk
took movies andSr. Hoekendijk spoKeon the su"oject "Greater works @nan @hese, "and a
funny adve@ture. @@ybe he was @ropin. *'0r a thou@ht this time. @nere was a tii@ crowd. @e
is a good spea@er@ I went home on foot. @ante @in was aaking jam, of which @,e @ave me
some, with w@ochl ate a whole loaf of warm bread. qyappetiteisunsatis*-la@le. I heard
t@k@t Willis preacAed ner@ in Ambos this morning.

1->. @onday. I went to the pasar after my devotions and bou@ht some line for my vlitar.
T@enlbou6ht somtsoap across fro@ the dainuri store. i bougnt a chocolate uar. i@en
i wen@ to the boat harbour to ask about perahus, uld Ulere I found out aoout none other
than the @ati Gembira. '@tey told me that Del was there, but I didn't s@e ium /I got my
glasses fixed / At home I ate a fine meal with tempe, cooked by Tante @.n, then rested.
/I am reali@ing a loss of my ability to love. I have been reading from first @ @ Jphn. i
can't tell if my problem stems from @oing blind, contiually being abused by the natives,
the human agin@process, a combination of causes, orjust plain @ /sell'-centeredness.
It could be business, too. I am realizing again how small live shrinks witnout love.

"           It must have something to do with my eyes.

14. @@esd*y.- Willis west up into the mountains in bac@ of A@oon--pernaps near SQja--but
*          didn't stop to pic@ me up.

15, @ednesday.- It's my 25tn birthday i got a letter from uaurel Devin at the p.0. and
woote an answer, out didnlt have enoug@ money to/@@@@%%/@?@ mail it. I saw Isjba@ at the
officeand asked him totryto getohmChori@BjO@ Tama) tohelpme with Buruese/I was
surprised to see Crai@ comini up the walk to my house@n the afternoon. @ surpr@sed @@@@s
Franz Gasperz and him at the door, and was invited to come along on the secoud tri? up
into the hills. I @@ t dressed @.d jo@@ied the truck in front of @@ed Tehupuring's house,
w@ere aack and r@ed were talkinc. @e dro@e a good part of the w@y t 0 A@r @esar. i tal@ed
            March 1967

planned to go on to Kate2 with the Willises, who then arrived before I could finish my
tea, and we were soon off with my Buruese dictionary for Kate2, where we had a rather
dull evening./I had a hard time getting to sleep tonight.  Emma Kermite told me today that
! Lus isn't getting married to Agus Manuhutu after all, and that we is in Menado.
16, Thursday.-. was workin. with"at@ on Buru eiwor'@si@til  tea time, oiml2anus and
@aul were with us for lunch again*od@y /In the afternoon rwAn@ diving along, but
wasn't successful in **lndin. m@'flasse@ %@%/@@@%@/%it@ my ;arched the prea fairly
well. The water was deep, and diving tired me. I b $d and@i d some more from "@J
da@s to a better vocabulary."? Later I walked down to the gudang, where Jack and Craig
were, Jack working on the lightplant and Craig working on his bicycle.  Then I got a ride
down to Poka, and crossed over to Galala from *OuQ@@@@@y by perahu. Then I rode on
to town from Galala and walked up Tanahtin@@. street tQ,my @lace '/ I s@ent the ever@n@ at
home studying Greek. Tante Tin was gone to a "perhimpunan. i@@"

17, Friday.- I washed my clothes this morning. there was no mail at the church when
I went there. I went down to check for a perahu Namlea an @ @ @ Agus Latuperisa on the
way. As I @as returning he fousd me and told me t$@t he -@aihur@ II was leav@n@ tomorrow.
I met Susi and Tante Susi near Jalan Cempaka about @re @@nti@l Dulu used to be. Susi
had her hair cut short. ? At the church I was given some cassava @ d@es i*@e@@-eqBe- sago
kasbi by someone. Then I walked home and gave Tante Tin part of the Cassava cakes and
some bread that I had bought./ I bathed before lunch, which included some kohu2 made by
Tante W.n from ikan asar. / It was a very hot day. In the afternoon I sat outside some
with Oom @im. Then" retired to my room, where I now, writing.Itiswindy.'rhereis
a cobalt sky with billowing white clouds outside. It is hot like Hades.
(Joe: This was the shorter page).

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1@@ @:@:" le engarberita arihalmUj8ng
'@'> ' Sq@@-@s@gat-gembirg"@ti@kaly :

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@      @                 i dsh tio&'@@@@n$ paaa 0u1$n Augustus, tshun lalu, dan

@r@@'         ;@@ "
@edan@ berusaha;akan mendirikan sebuah gereja disini, dan skan
              'm!g seor*pg pendets kepadamu @@-Wailala, k@rena ksmi dapgt

r         $Q@@
@abar bahwa kamu merindukan yang d4mikian.

             Kira2 @iga bulan yang Imlu sajm telah berjalan ke Bsnul@let,

@@ @@         d@n sudsh bertemu deng@n Bapm Temi peribsdi disana, sambil menjsm
@ r' @@       @aikan undangsn ka@i supsja belisu aksn da@ang dan mengunjungi

@m Q: @
of@@          @Bdun@, dan kira2 sekgr@n@ ini hamoir. stNu munokin djupA @ @ @h.

@@"-        ' *" -- -*--"*-*----"---"'*"-----"
>" f', "    @ melahi@ksn seorsng snak. Berekg berdug sdm dengan keq@mmn yang Cu

             Sekarsng ini pintu jmng terbuka @ihadapan ksmi ssngat luas,
dan kami berharap bahwa dalam tahun2 yang akan datang banyak jiwa2
@k@n diselamatkgn di wilaja Buru Utara. Tentu ini bukan pekerdjaan
saja &taupun Bapg Temi atau ore@g lain sahedja, m@lsinkan pekerdjasn

"             Tuhan j@ng Mshakugsg didalam kita sekal@an. Oleh sebap itu saja mau
mendoropgkan saudara2 supeja mankin memperheba@ usghe2mu didmlmm
imgn dimang2 jmng saudmra2 berada supmja terangmu aken mmnkin ber
tjshgja kepada banyak jiwa2 jmng lagi terhilang didalam kegelmpsn.
Inilah zaman gchir jsng sudah lamg dir@malkan oleh p@re nabi. Sgtu
zaman yang daiamnya Injil Kerajaan Allsh ini skan sampai kepada
sekalian bengss. Mgsg m@nugi besmr jgng gchir. Bisrlah sauamr@2
berdoa buat ksmi disini, dan kami bu H; sa@dsra2 dissna, supajm kitE
masing2 man
        RIL 19, 1967.

@mas Lsslesi arrived in this morning from his plantation at

Wae Sglin negr Ngadi and Metar. He says that there mre about @0
people there that were once free from pinang but whu went back gnd
started chewing again becmuse of persecution. WsiAp@ people told them
that this religion had been closed. Many of them were formerly con
verted under the ministry of Bapa Temi at L@leglinat.
                                                       0@ the WmiApat

To get to W8i@alin you must go by rm@u from Namlea to Metar 1
then walk from Met@r to @aiSalin, abont@ day's @@hh. From N@m@ea to
Metar takes about a dmy or so.
He sgys that the persecution is too grest in the @illages, so
they in tend to build a new villmge where they will be free to wor
ship. They hope to build a church also. Those that believe say that
mherever Amas builds his house they will all come to live there with
him.

Amss intends to return to WaiApo (WaiSslin) from here, start his
at WaiSalin, then go on to WgSlei and from there on to Banulalet. In
the meantime his peaple at WsiSalin wilr proceed with the building
of the house, so thet it will be regdy by the time he return@ from
Leksula,

He says he feels that the Spirit dosN't want him to work openly
till his house is finished, but then intends to go ahemd with the
spreading of the @ospel full force.

@
He says thst the Gospel should be preached in the interior accord
ing to Temi"s method. That is, not to bring a@ama (religion) to them
at the first, but to weep among them till there is a revival (keaermkan).
Then, after they are established, to go ahesd with the g@ama. I don'k
yet know exactly @hat they mean by"a@ama", but I t@ied to make it e
little more clear that I @asn't trying to bring religion to these
people, but Jesus Christ, and him crucified.

@e wept when he met me, and as we talked.

He brought two tins of peanuts (tins used as measuring uniti for
the work here. He says that his plantation is to support the work of
God at Nmmleg, as we hmve no plantation here.

He says his wife is now well.
        K@t@2, 8uaday, December 24, 1967,- @                                                                1
A rather @Tercast @orniag. I got up rather late, and didn't feel like sayin@
"Good @0r$ing". We had @@sh, spam, toast, coffee, etc. for breakfast. I ha@@ @een
guilty of @@kiag part i@ @anter without thinki@g but @hat @ @ould s*J beforebsna                    "
these last f@w d*ys (here &t Ea@@2)i I don't l8ke to bother about perf@cting that
sort of humour, really, and I @o@'t s@joy thes@ @@pty co@versatio@s that go o@ and oa
ever@ d@@ in the n@@e of f@llow@hip. I iov@ reason and a co@strac@ive lif@, and if I
do@it h@@e thes@ I @@@'t fe@@ hAppy,

I r@*d out lo@d from my old ki@g Ja@es bible yes@erday moroing, the o@e I had @@st '
So@ten b@ck from Bert Bikiulu. @h@n I @@nt to the sffi@@@. I s$opp@d at the Int@llige@@e
D@p*rt@ent first, where I got sy p@s@ to Baru, and had @nother long talk with @ustio@e.
"       He se@@s to have @g@d i@ the past year. a@ is @@r@ miled B@ sbo@@ spirit@*l things,
but I testified to him about the S@@iou@ and @s@@ and hnmAnit@. if@@r thi@ I went @n
toward the church sffice and @@t 0@ Bon@ 0@ the w@T ne@@ the P.0. He told @e h@ was
having troubles, and felt lonely, and I el@lained that so@e@i@es God had to deal with
us to @ring us to a k@owledge of the @rwth. I @@id I would try to bring @sther to bis
hous@ next w@ek when we c@@e in to town. At PaBl's I get Jack @illis, wh@ w*s just going
to I@@igrAtion, elactly wh@r@ I need@d to @0. we t@lk@d to Bia&r bi@ @@&ib, and he
told of poasible future difficulti@s in @etting visas @Itend@d. He pr@@is@d to help
me, tho@@h, and @@dQrs@ ay applioa@ion @or @ pe @ane@@ @is@, and he @@@@ the i@pression
th@t with his endorseme@t telling how long that I had been in the cou@tr@, etc,, I
would be also@t cert@in t@ get it. @@ want back to the offic@ at the chBrch, wher@ we
found Paal. Willis had to take hi@ to s@e @atu@eten a@ the D@part@e@t of Beli@ion
@bo@t endorsing /approv@ng a letter fro@ the "Sidang Jumaat Allah" reque@@ing &@ extensin

@i      to $ign @ letter pl&cing me at WaSlei, with @ana and North B@rn a* my @r@as of oper*@io@
I brief@d hi@ on the preeent sit@*tion, and h@ nnderstood about the @nslim trouble.
ae stid he k@ew @or@ @bowt it the@ I, as he had just @ec@iv@d @ r@port fro@ the KPS
of @. Bwr@, which he had i@ a folder befere h@@. H@ encsurag@d me to iust pl@g on,
working in accord with the Und@n@2 @as@r. It w*s *@r@ady getti@g along towaDi noon
when ve reached the church a@&in.
@@t@@eten had used@ funn@ @@taphore @bout pressur@s Applied to hi@ giring hi@ a
bl*ck look, as if we saw hi@ thr@@@h d*rk glass@s. H@ took his gl@Sunday school@s off then, and
s@i@ that sne day we voBld see that Lat@@et@@ was also cl@anl It was fun@y bec@sse 0@
his n@@e, I@ o@e underst@@ds it. @st@= ki@p. M@te@=bl*ck.
w@ picked Keri, @a@@e Baba and @there up @t the c*nu@h, letting Pawi off, P@@I
c@@e back with Ghristmas gifts which he p@t i@ the f@ont seat (I @@an, I p@t i@ the fro@@
se&t ror hi@). There was also one i@ an envelope that he @@dp@Sunday school@@ handed to me. It
s&id on the o@tside that it was fr@@ the @@h@@Bri@@ familg, and I l@t@r o@ened it i@
front @f the Ic@ plan@ and found th&@ It Yas @ne @@ th@se four color ball-pens. W@
w@@t there (t@ the ice pls@@) to pick @p ice for fr@e@ing ic@-cre@@, and Willis @ot
two blocks @or the price of o@e as the hole through the center was larg@r. We had to go
'       back to Lshuk@i's and borrs@ some @u@@J sacks from hi@ to cover the ice, and found his
place all decked owt for the party I had been i@vited to, th@t @ill be held toni@ht.
@heJ had also been workiFi the church over. from @@h@k@i's pe went on and stopped
@t @@ pl@ce, where @@ri ca@e in and helped me to get sy tb@ngs @o@ether. I @ook the
h@nd of @ini@ture bana@as (vhat was l@f@ of them) fro@ the table, but left vh@t was
lef@ of @J bread for the@, I had * big l@ncha a@ @ats2, closing with coffee and cookies.
Then I vent out into Willis's s@udy to get sway from the incesssnt converaatœon in tbe
living roo@. I want *@ sle@p on the ch@ir. Woke @@ strea@ing perspiration. Got down on
the floor, rolled over, and heard my new glass@s crack i@ my left @@nts pocket. I did
some snooping later and found the rest of Jack's books in the b@okcase drawers, inclBd-
ing @r@d TehBpu @ ag's Chapell B@atbuildi@@ Book, the one that I s@nt hi@ fro@ t e States
so long ago. I st*rted to co@y out information fr@@ a Zenitb radio book I fo@nd, then
went and helped J*Qk by cranking the @cecrea@.free@er. Jack eame and sat 0@ it during th@
last stages. @other came to the study and helped se by dictating from the book, and I
finished up b fore it was ti@e to eat@ The bell rang just as I @as on my last stretch.
w@ had toast ha@burger sandwiches for supper; one apiece. Then just about @ore icecrea@
than we could hold. It was some of the b@st icecream the Willis frees@r had ever pro-
duced Yhen I had been sround. Mother helped me and I inventoried ny things after supp@r.
straightened them out, then went to bathe. Mother sat in my bedroom on the old varandah
after my bath, and I read my diary to her till she almost fell asleep. I got Willis to
show his Buruese slides, but Mother was already in bed by the time he got started. I could
not resist getting her up, as that would probably be her only oppertunity of seeing th@@.
There were slides of both Namlea and Leksula. Also of WaeBohit, Liang, Airbabunji, a
burial cave, etc. After this it was about time to turn the lights out, so I went into
my room and read a little. went to bed and listened to my radio over the earphone till
I was drifting off.
            ')erewq@>er1t @. @@@-7

@@ @L@
K@@@,@@@@,@@0@@419@.
Ivas tJping till service started, and so I arrived late. Willises had gone to
Benteng Karang with Margeret Brown, who is speaking there this morning. Mother spoke
here in the morning, and did well on Si@e@@ vh@ oa@e into the temple in the power of
the Holy Ghost and found the Christ there. She Oom*@@nted @@ the need of a pastor in
the Kate2 church first though, and told them in no uncertain terms that it was wrong
for the church to be in this condition. It was @IActl@ what would hege said, elcept
that I wouldn't haTe been able to pack as @uch @@T@fTh@ but rity behind ny words, not
having been the founder of this work. There was a good spirit of prayer after the servic@
Keri had to get a@ter some irr@@ponsible boy for letting the new mast for Willis'
sailb@at roal off the supports and then not pick it up @gai@. It is a big binta@@guS
10@ that Willis @s seasQning out alo@g the wall near the chnrch. We w@re on the way
ho@e fro@ the @eeti@g. I @as surprised to ses @eri get in and @Ie@@ exercise authority.
I was a little late a@ein for the eTeni@ service, but arriv@d while they were still
singing this ti@e. Mother and @11 the rest but @@rc@ll@ were @one to Benten@Karang and
there were only a very few in the serTi@e. @@@@@ T@@ Thenu spoke on two types of Christ
ian; the typ@ that does and the t@pe that does@'t liv@ according to the Word. There was
a sweet message in her ser@on, and she did well.
All who were in the ser@ice were i@vited to & little Christmas party at the Willis'
afterward, rld sere asked to @e there at nine. They all crowded in, and it @as fun to
have them. We, the Americans, weren't served anything, and Workala told me we would
probabiy be "di S@lakanœ", and I asked hereif that @ould be out in the kitchen or what.
@e opened our @ifts later. I go@ a shirt from Jack and @ary, and a k@in from M@@.

Sis Willis got busy cooking early in the day. The lights were on. The hi fi was going,

I sat engrossed in Svetlana Stalin's memoirs. Wasn't read when the first guests arrived.
they were Dr. Ong and his wife and old Cheng, of the preB@S days! I still remembered the
@@@b@@@@@@*h*@b@@eL@*r@@ . @ . @h*@@@g @v*ba@ *:@@@@*@ e@@d@@ @@*h@ xfIB@x@h @@x*h@x@x@dx@@xl
name, and she said she remembered how she used to bathe me as a child in Ambon. Even
how she used to lie in bed with me@!! I didn't remenber that, but have a hunch it is
true. I was trying to get changed, as we thought a German couple were coming for lunch.
@illis ea@e back by the @udan@ to find his wife in a fit of frustration because all
th@se pe@ple had arrived just at lunch time without an invitation. Wh@n I arrived i@
@y roo@ on the west tarandah @@ther was calli@@ to me because Ch@ng was ther@. I was
still i@ my old clo t R @g and did@'t @ant to @ake an appearance yet but they ca@e b@ck
anyhov. I think they all understood my predica@ent then (Ihadn'@ been able to shack
hAnd@ because my hands wers still wet), because they all went @kek and sat down on the
front varandah. @ dress@d and went out to them. we @ilked for s@@e ti@e. @@@@ Ch@ng
like@ to @lay te@ni@ @ow. S*Js she never go@@ to St@@ha@us ' s@nrch, The Dr. @ad@ @e a
letter te thke to the @ilitar@ Hespital t@ get @ chest I-raJ. He sa@ my chess set while
he was in @@ roo@, I @ro@ght it sut 0@ the varandah and @e b@at @e @@ce, then it was
@eal ti@e, and it turAed out @@ be fortunat@ that th@s@ @n@Ipected guests came, as the
Ger@an couple neTer showed up, we sAt and t@lk@d s@@e a*ter di@ner, b@t the@ wanted to
play ten@is, so they left @id@+Dter@oon, O@r Christ@as @i@@er h*d been in the A@erican
style. Bo*sted *0w1, roll@, p@as, corn, fruit salad, dressing, c@ndied sweet potatoes,
coffee, pie. Too @nch to eat.
          I felt hot *nd wanted to play my radio some so I went out to Willis's den ts ksep
from disturbing those i@o bad gon@ to rest. It was @T@@ hotter there, so I fin@lly ended
up down by the quqy, where I took my shirt off and sat @ill L@@ion@s came. we went vp to
the varandah and visited. @@@@Il@@IG@@ One 0@ Legio@'s @ons is retarded and sat copyiBg
what his wife was saying till she even see@ed to g@t c@@fused. Then the Germa@ couple
*           arri@ed. K@rt and Karen He is a co@@@@icAtio@s engi@eer and here trying, pro
b@bl@ in Tain, go get a di&l *r@te@ set up in A@bsn, @@ *11 sat together out oa the lawn
@@side the livi@g *00@ i@ the sh@de on s@@e ch@irs we bsowght out. There we were treated
ts some @or@ coffee and pie. I had showed my m@ps and H@rt h*d Tentured to ask a little
@bout @@r@. He t@@k@ T@r@ little. Lsgio@ had gone and sat vith the children on the
stsps. Then @@@ions left and we set with the Ger@an couple ag@i@. Mow the bright idea
of i@viting the@ tothe 8hr@st@as plaT in A@@Q@ ca@e across @ary's mind. There wasn't
re&lly Any waJ th@y could ke@p fro@ *ccepting. (J@ck had @ade the elcuse to a @tudent
av Legio@ left that he csuld@'t go when he had company, beoause that would seem very
rude.) It was now just *bout elactly se@en in the ev@ning, and that was the ti@e the
@eeting was to begin. I @aw go reason to go @11 the wAy t@ town and back over these rough
ro@ds, and especi@ll@ got to tske Hart and Kare@ o@ly to get there when the thing was
already h@lf through, so I rsfns@d to @0. We s@t waiting for willises in the early even
ing, and it aust have been s@ least s@@@n-thirty before they ever got away. I though it
@as @@ fsolish. Mother went with them thou@h. I staJed Bp and t@@ed so@@, and re*d so@e
and didn't go to bed before they came back. @@@aseh came and sat in the Willis' living
room all the while they were gone r@ading @agaai@es., and I didn't want to have anything
              re---@-- '9@7 (25.?@?
to do with him thinking that he was there without permission like the students used
to be many times during Brown's reign. I later found that he was supposed to be there
to guard the place, so I felt glad over that. I sat on the varandah reading "When
the World goes Boom" for awhile. When the others arrived we had some leftovers to eat,
and Mary complained that I hadn't had something already on my own. I hadn't really been
hungry after all that we had eaten that day!

KATE2 TUESDAY, DECEMBER 26, 1967.-
             I went and @athed arter breakfast and after praying the"devotion" @rayer. Then
@art and Karen came and we went to NatSepa in the 2 cars. We went snorkeling, b@t
the others weren't as enterpr@sing as I was, so I found myself poving the reefs alone,
fer out beyond anyone else, I saw many butterf@y fish and many beautiful coral formations.
Despite my eyes I seemed to get in the swing of things in the underwater world, @lidid@
quickly over the botto@ and through the coral @ardens, I kn1w I would have slim chances
of spotting a shark if thfre were any, and there usually are sharks around in these
waters. I felt the spirit of a ballet dancer as I dove there alone. Flying along over
the sands I spotted a delightful little @@x@lx coral tree ahead. I bent upward over it
as I got there, spreading my ar@s in ecstatic glory, feeling the Beauty of motion
and for@, almost as I used to before my blindness. Then, what should I get for ny efforts@
I felt a Jab on m3 right thigh and knew that some fierce little warrior of a fish must
have charged out of his coral ho@e (the coral tree) to attack me! He desisted as I rose
to the surface. I vent bar@eling home to shore swimming swiftly on my back and was sur
prised by a snorkler who squeeked at me as I passed. I turned to look a@ain, thinkin@
that to be an odd sound for a man to make. When I got to the beach they told me Karen
was snorkling, I hadn't been able to see well enough to know.
             Willises begged Karen and Kart to come have lunch with us, and made it awkward
for them but they refused anyhow. I could see right along that they didn't want to
come, but not my hosts! We returned home, I riding in the front for the 2nd time but
Mary riding with us instead of with @@œ@@ Hart and Karen as before. All of the women
were in the back. We had rice and sate and gado2 for lunch, and it would have been good
but that it wasn't seasoned properly. I took Mother to the Kampong while the others were
"             asleep in the afternoon. I talked to her about my plans, and about taking Puan to America, etc., but she didn't seem enthusiastic, and I knew that she was opposed to my marrying
her at heart. We stopped at Tante Ta's house, but only Dedi and Eba @ere home.
"              @other and " sat for awhile, then walked on to Durian Pata, where Tante to was, but
we didn't go in to @ee here, as ehe was back in at Hene Undu's old house, evidently.
We walked up the old Hitu road a ways, talking. then we cut bac@ down to the Laha road
and @ sat for awhile on the bridge as you enter HX Hunut fro@ the hill. Se talked there
a long while, and some men stopped to talk to us on their way to or from a sa@uero tree.
We stopped to see Manaseh at the @udan@ on the way home. then went on. Mar@i came down
as we approached the dri@eway after looking at the perahus, and Wother went beach-coamb
ing with @er. @e had leftovers for supper, and IX@@@AKX@@X*@@Xt@@M Mother told about
Sch@artz of Australia and her escape from here, etc. I did some typing. Jack came and
gave me a price of @75 for his recorder, then @e went to church together, The service
'             was ver@ poorly led, and the fellow Oce Yasarua read from a Psalm but I have forgotten
which one. Only that It was the one ths* says "brou@ht me very low" in it. The praye'
service was better, but the missionaries other than Motker and I were not in the Spirit,
and probably thought that we were @m the flesh. I was surprieed and almost a lit@le
alarmed at how frankly Mother prayed that the 8pirit would move as before,and that the
Lord would remove the cro@s spirits from the place. She may be simpler in her old @ge,
but the old spirit that animates @@@@ her is just the same, and I ssemed to be able
to see then how that the cause of all her success was only one thin@: the spirit that
has worked in and through her. @@ Such a mighty power, running freely throu@h her always.
"             I had not been able to pray like that, with all the criticism I had been under, but she
ssemed immune to everything, including the feeling that we need to avoid missunderstand
ing. Just as if it wasn't tAere, or as if she didn't have the least respect for the
thin@s set up by what I admit to be the influence of our opponant, No tact about it
whatsoever. Just no regard whatsoever for the c@mples bonds of the feelings of man.
w@uin we got hoae I typed @ let@er to Morris, then went to read it to her on the varan
dsh. @s had a good talk by ourselves then, as the others were all in the living room
listenins to the Hi Fi or, at least, where the HI FI was playing . Sister @illis
graciously brought us a cup of coffe and a big slice of fruitcake, but Hother had to
pass on the latter as she was too full, I told Motker that I @ould pref@@ to die than
to coDpromise what I had from the Lord. I told her of sy scrapes with death in Sin@apore
and in the dark waters of the strait at ni@ht. I pent to bed later than the others
DEC@Q@R Z@ 1967. Wednesd@y. .

@argi and Marcella made the big farew@ll scene this morning and Willis drove them
down to Laha. I had told them I didn't tlunk that they would ever getoff, and jokindly
promised them a canoe ride,@like I had pro@ised Joy- ir they returned. Sure enou@h, all
came back in the heat of the day, and one of them, -Margi, @ think,- demanded their
canoe ride while the sun was still scorching. I put it of@ till late afternoon, andthey
seemed to @gree to wait. I had refused to go to the airport with them, saying that I
only went with those that were really leaving. They s&id that a Militar@ plane had been
in and that the crew had taken their named and a@reed to pick them up on their way back

from Irian. It was a Hsrculies.
Margi called from down on the beach in the late afternoon, and I went and changed
into one of Willi's bathing suits, and, with Willis' help, got a paddle from a student
who later carried the Matangitonga into the water with another student. I took F@u@p
first, paddling west, then around and back and down along in front of the villa@e. When
we $@t back, Marcella got in and I took her strai@ht east and down a@ far as the Durian
Patah stream. @; had pleasant talk, and she seemed to understand the mood of the bay
better, and I rather enjoyed her. When we got back they joked us about how long @e had been
been,

DECEMBER 28, 1967. @hursday.- @@anz and Keri helped load my things i@the back and I rode
in to town with @other and Willis this morni@g. Willis was In a hurry over his vi@a be
ing late, and for@ot to stop at my place, he says. Anyhow, I waa stuc@ to go to all the
different places and wait with my thin@s in the back of the truck till he was finished,
so that all my morning was spent in vain. ae went to the Agama place at Benten@ first.
?hen to Immigration. After eveg'thing was finished Jack finally took me home.

DECE@'BE@ 29, 1@67, ?riday.- I took @other sh@pping with me and nearly wore her out, but
didn't really get anything. aad Lunc@ and 8upper at Eng's.
D@@Oom 1967.

@1, SUNDAY, @ookit easy this morning. @alked to the church, wentin and satdown.'@hen
Tante E@g came and asked me to come and sit with @er and Mother, farther forward on tkc
le t side. Tin Gasper, one of the latest graduates 0@ Kate2, led the sin@ing, and did
it with embarrassingly dramatic @estures and poses. I felt it wasn't in the Spirit and
didn't sing. Oom Tos Gaspfr was leading the service. Paul got upaand said a few words
abo@t the new year and his trip to Java. @eri was there and spoke on the profession of
our faith, and did well. I didn't really seem to feel the Spirit moving in the aervice
until a woman came (or rather, was led farward weeping @or salvation. @other was p@ay

i 9@ with her after all the others and even I had @otten up and sat down. I asked Paul if
Bert Solissa were there, and he said he must have seen wron@ly the time he thou@ht that
he had seen Bert in one of the recent services. He said theugh, that he would ask Bert's
mother-in-law about my stove for me, thou@h, if he saw her. Tante Qlg was already ahead
and I followed out with @other. When we got outside i asked her if Ama were there, and
she showed him to me. I took his hand and invited him, - no, begged him - to have lunch
with us, He came, and I @)t around to askAn@ En@ on the way, She reakily 4;reed, but
Probably felt a little unsettled by it. I @oofed and stepped on Mothe@s leit heel as
we walked and talked. Later I and Ama struck out ahead, because it was too difficult
for me to walk in back of the two elderly women with my eye condition. @ante Eng went

DECEMBER 1967.
30, SATURDAY.
Went to Bert's in the afternoon and sat around and talked for a long time. They
served me some sort of lemon syrup drink first. Then coffee. Bert gave me one of his
books called "The Death of Adam" as he had two of them.
After I parted company with Mother, who went to look at the site of the old church
in back of the Rumah Makan Solo, I went up to the library and there read up on Buru,
after talking for a while to Sileki and kidding him about having relatives in the
Phillippines now. A man, - evidently one of Bert's pupils, to hear him talk, - said
a few words to me in English. I had lunch at Engs, after which it was that I went to
Nikiulu's.
After our evening meal at Eng's, Mother and I went to C.A.s at the church,
and when we were seated Anis Titalei came and asked me to speak. Mother thought that
he was asking her and said no for me. I explained what was going on and accepted.
I sat on the platform through the opening ceremonies. The singing was led by that girl
who wears the sarong and isn't too bright. Also the testimonies, I guess. I spoke from
Isaiah 9, about the light that now shines, testified long about what things the Lord had
been doing in Buru, and ended up reading my text again and then going on to the verse
"Unto us a son is born" to close with. I did fairly well, but there was no great move of
the Spirit, at least not detectable.
Mother brought me home. At 10:@0 in the night I got Lanphier's programme on FEBC.
He opened. Sileki spoke. One other fellow,-evidently the Chinese fellow,- read the news,
and then Mary Jane spoke or @an@, or something, in her broa@.
Mother and I had been surprised to find Ama Uneputi there as we were about to leave
the church tonight. He walked up the road with us, overjoyed to be with us, and telling
how he remembered Mother's testimony about carrying a fifteen kilogram pack 16 kilometers
through the jungles of Bacian, etc. We were all holding hands, in the Omaese way.
Ana was on my right and Mother on my left .

Sunday, December 31, 1967.
Took it easy this morning. walked to the church, went in and sat down, Then
Tante Eng came and asked me to come and sit with her and Mother, farther forward on the
left side. Tin Gasper, one of the latest graduates of Kate2, led the singing, and did
it with embarrassingly dramatic gestures and poses. I felt it wasn't in the Spirit and
didn't sing.  Tos Gasper was leading the service. Paul got up and said a few words
about the new year and his trip to Java. Keri was there and spoke on the profession of
our faith, and did well. I didn't really seem to feel the Spirit moving in the service
until a woman came (or rather, was led) forward weeping for salvation. Mother was
praying with her after all the others and even I had gotten up and sat down. I asked Paul if
Bert Solissa were there, and he said he must have seen wrongly the time he thought that
he had seen Bert in one of the recent services. He said though, that he would ask Bert's
mother-in-law about my stove for me, though, if he saw her. Tante Eng was already ahead
and I followed out with Mother. When we got outside I asked her if Ama were there, and
she showed him to me. I took his hand and invited him--no, begged him--to have lunch
with us. He came, and I got around to asking Eng on the way. She readily agreed, but
probably felt a little unsettled by it. I goofed and stepped on Mother's left heel as
we walked and talked. Later I and Ama struck out ahead, because it was too difficult
for me to walk in back of the two elderly women with my eye condition. Tante Eng went
round and opened the front door for us (or maybe it was Giok that actually opened it, I
don't remember), and we sat on the porch talking before it was time to eat. Ama said a
lot and even too much, as usual, but it was pleasant to have him there, when you knew
what and who he was. As Mother said, Tante Eng was a little upset about having Ama there
when it was mealtime (Mother said this to me in English). Ama sat at the end on my left,
and Mother on my right. We had to wait awhile for Eng, but then she came and sat across
from me. There was an abundance of food, and it was all very good, and Tante Eng left off
feeding me today, and looked after Ama instead. I kept talking little things to put
Ama at ease and smooth over Eng's edgy nerves, which I could sense must be giving her
trouble then, having been around her for so long. We sat out on what used to be the
varandah again after the meal. Then Ama and I left on foot. We stopped in at Cak Kaihatu's
but he was asleep. Ama wanted to wake him up, but I did what I could do to restrain him.
Tos, the one who had been at Inggu's house that time I was at Saparua, - was there, Also
Oom Tiang, who sat with us for awhile. We went on to my place after awhile, and just
relaxed and talked and listened to the radio and looked at some magazines all afternoon,
and, as usual, Ama talked too much; but it was all right, as I know him and love him as
a friend, and am more than patient with him. He agreed to go to Buru with me and build
me a canoe. I had asked him how much canoes cost now as we were walking and he had said
about 2,000. I told him I would pay him the 2,000 and his fare to Buru and back if he
would go and build one there for me, and he agreed. Just like that. We had a few deeper
discussions about the spiritual things, and I was made aware of his searching insight
and perception, and remembered that the way he talked didn't make him simple, though
he might seem that way. Oom Wim brought us tea and cookies in the late afternoon, and we
enjoyed them together, praying over them before we partook. I got a splendid sermon in
over FEBC. It was preached by the pastor of Calvary Baptist Church in N.Y., xxxxx and
it seemed to me he couldn't help but be Pentecostal to preach a sermon like that.
I had heard it over a neighbour's radio, and seemed to be able to tell by his voice that
he was inspired. Then, when I found it on my own I knew, and wished very much that Ama
could understand too. We had met the Dr. Ong before we reached the Geredja Silo, and
he had informed me that there was nothing wrong Nith my chest according to the
fluoroscope I had taken yesterday. Ama left before dusk. I seemed to feel a little sickly and
didn't eat anything and went to bed early, and lay listening to my radio with the light
out before going to sleep.

Ambon, Monday, January 1, 1968.
There were firecrackers in the night celebrating the new year. In the morning as
I sat eating breakfast Oom Wim said that one of the plant pots by my window had been
knocked over, perhaps by someone who had come and peeped into my open window. I said
that maybe it was a dog.  I spent all the morning reading, typing and listening to my
radio.  There had been some beautiful choral singing on the Ambon RRI.  The beca fares
were so high today that I walked all the way to Tante Eng's for lunch and arrived these
20 minutes late.  There were throngs of people on the streets, and they tell me that the
Muslim and international new year coincide this year.  Paul Matatula and Mother were
eating when I arrived there.  Then the women that took care of Loce when she was dying
came and sat in the seat vacated by Paul when he left and ate. I was still eating as I
had begun later than Mother and Paul.  We talked some after the meal, then Mother and I
left for s@ place. We walked all the way, and I seemed to have trouble with Mother, who
always wants to lead me by the arm, and only seems to be a bother. We met one of Mother's
old acquaintances on the way. I actually met him first, as I had left Mother far behind,
but I didn't know him.  He evidently thought that I was Morris. We talked some, and he
demonstrated a limited knowledge of English, and seemed to be a refined gentleman. At
the house there was a Gaspers man and his wife visiting with Rikumahus, and they came
and sat with Mother and I, and said that they were from Bagenda's church. Mother and I
later retired to my bedroom, and Mother sat typing s@ excerpts from my diary during most
of the rest of the afternoon.  Then she helped me to pack my things.  Tante Tin had served
her with stroop and coockies when we first arrived, then had brought us tea on a tray
in the afternoon, knocking on the door. Oom Wim had entered without knocking earlier to
return my thesis on man's make-up, and Tante tin had complained to me about it later while
Mother was gone to visit Dad's grave. I took my bath. Mother came back. She then read
some to me from one of the prophets, talked some, and went home, saying she felt sleepy.
I went and ate what was left of my bread and some macaroni that Tante Eng had given me
to take home. One of Tante @in's dogs got hit by a fast automobile after I had returned
to my bedroom.

Ambon, Tuesday, January 2, 1968.
Mother says that she wants to go to Kate2 again today if Willis comes.
She came to my place early in the morning as I was dressing, and listened to the news
while I was in the bathroom.  We went down into the pasar and bought a package of 30
barso; "Anchor" brand soap*"or kp4@5,and aams brought them to the church.  Then I took
Mother to Nikiulu's where x@ I introduced her to Bert, - who was just @@@@x@@ about
to leave on a bicycle when we arrived in front of his house, - Oom I and the Tante
(Bert's Mother). We had a pleasant conversation, and who should happen in but Oom Wim!
There was also a fellow named Saleh who came in a little later and invited me to his
house sometime when we left.  As @ thought, Willis didn't come today. But there were
a couple of women going by on a beca while we had been standing in front of the church
and they had yelled something about going to Kate2 tomorrow.  I took it that perhaps they
knew that he was to come.  The Hukom children were at the church onee when I was there,
and they said that Willis would be coming tomorrow. Ama had gone to check and found that
there was no boat leaving for Namlea yet. We had been all upset because Manaseh Latuheru
had run after me from behind as I approached Valentyne Street on that side street where
the garage is and touching my left arm had asked where I was going.  When I looked around
and saw his uniform, sunglasses, and beret, I figured he was some kind of a wise-guy,
but just went along with him.  He asked where I was going, etc. Then he asked if I didn't
know who he was.  I looked good, but couldn't recognize him.  then I took him and turned
him and read his name plack on his right chest, and acted overjoyed to see him.  As I
talked, I asked him to take off his sunglasses so I could see how he looked.  He did, and
I said I could see the Latuheru in him a little better then, but said I could probably
recognize him better without his beret. Re ar@ued about this, and @ soon saw the reason.
When he took off his beret I saw that he was bald half way to the back of his head.  I
was flabbergasted. I asked him how long he had been this way, and he said about three
years. I asked him jokingly whether it was good or bad to be like that, and he said he
didn't know.  I tried to tell him that he looked distinguished.  It was from him that I got
the news that the Geser was to leave that evening.  I brought that news straight to
Ama, who was at Chak's house, just up the street. Ama didn't even have his "Passfoto"
with him, and none of the offices would be open till the @th.

Ambon, Wednesday, January 3, 1968.
To Ongs and got medicine and he and Dio, the female Dr. wanted to have a
look at my eyes so I let them.  It was all a lot of fun, and I kidded about getting caught
in the dark room with Jo, etc.  Mrs. Ong had werved me a bia heloi@i of @@karoni with a
January 3, 1968, continued.
After returning to the church we again parted company.  The others all went in the truck
to Eng's to get Mother's things.  I went on to my place by beca, straightened my things
out a little, grabbed a snack, took my file folder with the Yom story in it, a tee-shirt,
and a pair of BVDs and went out and waited for them on the little front porch.  Tante Tin
brought me a glass of thick stroop which I drank.  Then she came and took the glass again.
My clothes, of course, were foul with perspiration and soaked through as I sat there in
the midday heat. I write this to remember how hot it really is in Ambon. The truck finally
came, and they told me to get in the front seat with Willis, wife, and my Mother because
the back was full. I did, and we made it out to Kate2, where it seemed cool and peaceful
after Ambon.  There was a lovely breeze, and I was reminded that this is the finest time
of the year, when the eastwind dies and the westwinds bring day after day of brilliant,
quiet, beauty. I was reading when Willis came and got me up to help him get the boat in.
I just sat on the pier and watched, feeling too blind to be of any real service. TK@@X Of
all the stupid things that I ever saw, they let thatnew i@uruese boy who doesn't know
how to paddle tow it in with the larger canoe, and he had a terrible time.  It was actually
a bit rediculous to watch, and I watched and laughed from the pier. Willis was angry at
the boys on the boat for scraping the anchor cable against the hull. Well, after heading
off towards Poka for œawhile, then back toward Hunut, and after one of the boys on
the boat had to dive in and move the Matangi-tonga, which was moored to one of the boat's
anchors so that the boat could get by, they finally got a line in to land, after Willis
went out and took ahold of the towing canoe, and they pulled her in. Keri had come down
to help in the process, and there were quite a few ed@ing her in to the @l@t that they
had dug as she came in, Willis had argued with me that the bottom of the metal keel
fin on the boat was sharp, and I couldn't convince him otherwise. They finlally got her
all the way in and moored, and as it began to rain I left for home. Willis asked me
where I was going, and I answered, "Where else?"  I stayed in my trunks all the rest of the
day.  They were actually Craig's, the ones that I had taken to Ambon by mistake and given
to Mother to return, and she had brought them back in her things.  I played Willis' HI FI
in the night. Mother and I had been correcting Yom's story in the afternoon.

Kate-Kate, Thursday, January 4, 1968.
I went back to sit on the John after breakfast, and before I returned the
Willises and Margi w@i Marcella had already left for Laha.  I read some, talked to Mother
some, played radio some.  At my urcini@B Mother went to visit Keri at his house, and I
followed later, and we  sat and talked.  I had been talking to Apong Workala in the meantime,
though, while she had been making my bed. She had told me about the wonderful outpouring
of the Spirit at Sarua, and about how the Protestant minister had given his heart to
the Lord by his own self, and been filled with the Spirit. It was very interesting. I
asked her where she intended to work after school, and she said she intended to return
to Sarua, of course, but would follow the leading of the Lord. She was a little nervous,
talking to me, but did all @ight, and I think that the girl has intelligence.  She used
a broader vocabulary than most of them. Kate2 seemed almost like before in those few hours,
and my mind was struck again with the material universe around me.  Something that I have
largely learned to neglect or ignore, but something that is pertainant to the finness of
one's soul, nevertheless. I was almost able to think as a child. To use my imagination
again. At least my own childhood was what I seemed to
associate with what I was experiencing briefly then. I thought of this as I sat
alone on the porch, evidently completely free from the influence of anyone else. It had
never been that way during the time when the willises and the others had been in the house,
and I had almost forgotten just what it was like. It was like conjuring up an impossible
past out of eternity. I long for that old condition of my youth as I type now. The old
peace and security of my home.
            Willises didn't get back until about 2 pm, and I was really getting bored. We ate a
good meal that Tante Baba had been waiting around to serve. Then Willises went to rest.
I was all packed and ready by the time they wanted to leave after his bath, and I sat
in the back of the truck on the way in, reading from one of their Reader's Digests about
an ejection over the Pacific, and subsequent rescue. By the @ime we reached town I was
sick. They let me off at my plaSe on Tana Tinggi. I rested.  Went to the church and gave
Paul the Digest I had just finished reading to be returned to Willis together with a
LIFE of his . Returned home. Bathed. Ate a little.  Listened to radio some, etc.
I guess F@@œ really got away today.

I found out about the relationship after asking today, having learned that he was from
JANUARY 1968

Saturday, January 6, 1968.
Up a little late. Everything closed up at the church, and I later found that
Paul and family and the two Hukom kids were successful in leaving by ship to Java today. I
found Ama at Chak's house, and he said that he had helped to load Paul's things on board.
I had bought segel paper and gotten some cable forms from Ais Titalei at the PO before I
went to Chak's, and I had passed by the church.
Ama went with me and got my impressions made at the 1@ilat" (tukang gigi).
The tukang gigi used a mixture of some gum that tasted something like damar for his
impression taking material, and did it very quickly. Ama and I went to the harbor to
ask about a boat to Namlea and I met Manaseh again at the entrance. Ama came back, but at
Maneseh's suggestion we all went back in together to ask but found nothing.  Then we went
up to that office that takes care of Sangsuria's affairs, and they said that there wouldn't
be any more news about the Sangsuria until next week. Ama decided to go back to Oma , and we
parted company. I saw Willises at the Naga Kuning, and called to them in English, @k@
jokingly, but they didn't seem to hear. Then they came over to me and Jack asked if I
wouldn't come over to Kate2 and spend the night. I had to turn him down, as I still have
some things that need taking care of. I bought some cable at the Naga Kuning and a
bicycle generator outfit at the bicycle shop nearby.
Mother spoke again tonight, but once again it rained so hard that I couldn't very well
go. I was out waiting for beca, but it got too dark for me to see. I felt sorry that I
couldn't be there tonight. Went to sleep with the radio on, and woke up with a woman in
bed with me speaking words of love softly in my ear! Shocking? All it was was a radio
program from the Philippines with poetry. How disappointing! It was one of these N@
stations that fade out and in, and it just happened to fade back in a@ain then. Mother and
I had intended to go to Bakarbessy's but it was too rainy to go.
Sunday, January 7, 1968.
Went to church, using a beca part of the way, if I remember. Keri spoke a
message about Paul or something, but I wasn't really listening. I was engrossed in the
story of David running from Saul. We had dinner at Tante Eng's. Then, with the better weather,
Dias had made the statement that he believed that it wouldn't rain this evening/tonight
Mother came to my place at four in the afternoon and we went on to the raja of Wai's
house, where we sat and talked for some time. We didn't really have an opportunity to
bring them to the Lord, though.
From there Mother and I went up to the church, and finding that we were early, and Yo
atu there, and the door to the office open I pulled out a couple of chairs and we sat
down. Mother presented a good sermon about the widow woman and Elisha, the holy man of God.
Teko Luhukai took me home with others in the jeep. Mother had asked me to pray for a young
fellow who was seeking the Spirit, but I couldn't feel the leading of the Spirit for i@@l@@

Ambon, Monday, January 8, 1968.
Went to the library and studied and typed.  Then took a beca to r Is,
typewriter and all, and had lunch there, even though I was late.  Me@@e@-we@@-hem@
I was surprised to find Keri and Franz sitting at the office when I came to church.
Franz had yelled "salah" at me when I almost missed the gate and almost ran into the barbed
wire, and I scolded him a little for it. We got to talking, and the Willises and Mother
arrived, and I was surprised to find us late for the meeting while sitting there. Chak
had also come in and sat down. Willis and I sat in front on the left, and Sister Willis
sat just behind us. I kidded Tince Gasper in English, and Willis commented on how much
she was like a niger. I guess I had the wrong spirit in me from the start, anyhow, I couldn't
seem to get a blessing.  Buce Mahulete led the service and Chu led songs. Mother spoke
about Christian businessmen. I went home with the Willises and we had popcorn late at night,
and I sat reading TD@E after they had gone to bed. Willises are so sociable, really.

Tuesday, January 9, 1968.
Went to ask about Ana at Chak's. Found Chu and Tos there, but no Ama, they
told me. This was after I had gotten my new teeth fitted at "Kilat" for only 12@),
gone back to get the rest of the money 1300), and paid the man. He had fitted them with a
file and even a chip of glass as a rasping tool. Quick work, though. From Chak's Tos went
with me to do some shopping, but insisted I have lunch on him, even though I was supposed
to eat at Eng's. He said that he had lots of money and was opening a restaurant in a few
days, and he later said that Lohi was to be the cook.  We ate at Chu's, and who should walk
in while we were eating but the Willises! Tos told me and I told him to be very quiet and
we moved over by the wall.  They saw us first thing though, and Sis Willis missunderstood
our fun and thought we were being quiet because we were embarrassed.  They would have sat
elsewhere, but I made them sit with us.  I had bemt back and said hello to Chu before we
started eating. After we were done Tos took a picture of the Youth Camp back to show Chu,
and told me later that they had given him qn@@s", and that it was so good that you couldn't
eat very much of it without getting tired of it. I said goodbye and left Willises eating.
January 9, 1968, continued.
We were overjoyed when Ama arrived in a little while later. He had remembered to bring
some cloves for Tante Tin. He left and Mother left (after a hug and a kiss). Tinus came with
uncertain news, and I think the Tante made him a cup of tea and put fried bananas there
and he wouldn't eat them or something, but this is all sort of fuzzy in my mind as I write.
I think Mother was still there when he came and he had acted ashamed around her, which he
should have been. Tinus went to check on the boat once more, but before he returned Chak
and Ama had arrived in Chak's car, and we set out for the harbor also. As we were about to
get in the car Yohannes Manusama was there and shook my hand and asked if I remembered him.
He and his daughter were bound for Oom Ipi's, where she was taking lessons. When we returned
after a fruitless quest, and a sort of high pressure interrogation of the boat's crew by
Chak, who seemed just a little too cocky for me then, we returned and after Chak and Ama
had gone again I went across the street and found Manusama still there, and talked with him
a few minutes. Then I went on to the church, where I fs@*d heard Tante O @'s voice and found
that Willises had come. keri and Josef were also there and we sat on the right front side,
Keri and Josef on my right.Willis came and sat on my left a little later.  Ama went up and
played the guitar.  Chak led the service, and Paul Matatula the singing.  He had us (Paul)
stand right back up to sing a chorus after we had just sat down.  Keri and I sanghard, but
Willis complained of a headache and expressed relief when there was a trio, with one of the
girls a future student in the Kate2 school. Mother spoke on the Ten Virgins tonight, but
she was too tired out, poor soul!
I went with them as far as my place in the truck. Sis. Willis hadn't come, so there was
plenty of room in the front seat. Mother intends to stay at Kate2 until Friday, then Willis
will bring her directly to Tulehuin the truck.

Wednesday, January 10, 1968.
I was at the library studying and typing all morning. Tante Tin fed me a
meal, with some kind of good noodle soup. Then I received Yohannes Manusama for a talk as
I had promised him at Ipi's house yesterday. He was only a few minutes late, and was in a
hurry to go again because he had another appointment, but he stayed awhile longer when it
rained and Tante made us a glass of tea. We talked about progress and philanthropic ideas.
He is planning to move a group of people from Abubu to Labuan, near Namrole, on Buru. He said
a Japanese reported that you can refine coconut oil by mixing it with crushed coconut hull
charcoal, then letting it settle. I was sorry that we didn't have more time to talk.
Tinus came and left, and I can't remember if it was today that he had tea with me. I was
just preparing to hire a couple of becas when Ama didn't show up and there wasn't any
means of transportation when who should show up but Jack Willis?! He had tea too. Then we
loaded my things up and he took me down to the boat in his truck. Poli was in the back, and
he helped us to load up. Willis and I stood around and talked. Then he left. Inye of Waeplau
was there. Also Odik of Namlea. Also a Chinese boy I had played chess with once. La - -
something or other. Tinus came and went. Came and said that Ama had left home on his way
to the harbor 3/4 hour ago, they told him at the nu@e. Then he left for a long time.  I
prayed. The Chinese boy asked whyl didn't rent a ee@: for 500.  I said I would be glad to
if I could put my things there, and said that I didn't care if I could sleep there or not,
as long as my things were safe. I couldn't see a thing, but he made the deal and helped
get my things below in the darkness.  How kind a thing for him to do.  Ama arrived at last,
in answer to my prayer. I had really @ro@n concerned about him having met with some disaster
or something, but he had only been held up by the guard at the gate all this time, and when
he had asked for his pass so that he could go home if he couldn't go, they had let him
pass. He said he thought they wouldn't have let him through because he didn't have a vacci
nation certificate. I was overjoyed. As we pulled out he told me how he had thought that
maybe the Lord wasn't letting him go because he wasn't holy enough, or something, but he
knew that it was the Lord that had let him through. I had paid Tinus 200 for his services.
Then he had gone to buy some food for us. He brought us some "terang bulan" cakes and bananas,
and said that there had been 10 left over, and asked me to tell Ama, -who was below looking
after the things,- that he had taken ten "to pay his beca fare home", and I would just about
bet anything in the world that he never set foot in a beca that day. Ama went below, and I
tried to sleep, with people crowding the little piece of mat that I had unrolled. It was one
of those impossible, dreadful, Indonesian nights, with the fellow who monopolized most of my
mat im *acting that I was his wife or something and curling up against my rear end.  A little
boy who had the worst smell lay across where my head should have been, also on that little
portion of the mat that I had unrolled. Once when I returned from relieving myself there
wasn't even enough room to recline, so I did a typically Indonesian thing. I simply leaned on
them and reclined on them until they moved a little and I could lie again.
JANUARY 1968. Ilth, continue@@-

neighbours gsthered in. I packed the tSin8s back to the kitchen. Supposing that they must
b@ thS Oait". Sure enou8h, there were soon less of them (people or nei8hhours). @artin
Lesbata came and we talked a bit. Ama and I were @ery tired but eot a bath at @artin's, as
he had asked us to. @hen we went lookini for food, and Doul Bamatraf cal@@d to us from that
shop on the corner. we went all the way down to the Menadonese place but no one had rice
fixed yet, so we had some coffS@at the Menadonese place (near the PO and went home II askSn@
for rice unsuccessfully at Man's once more. When we had s@opped at Man's the :irst time he
had made us sit down and started his bickering conversation up until we had had to pull out,
@ochdar h8d been there, but was qui@t throught the tempest, He has been that way so often
that it becomes evident to me that he does that on purpose to show me he dosn't like this
fana@ic Muslim business. Ama and I had stopped at his house on the way home too, an d I had
8@ve@ his kids some candies I had bought for them at the Menadonese place. At home Ama and I
ate some of my provisions and went to bed. I got thirstier and thirsties, but went to sleep
some and woke up wrin@ing wi@h perspiration. @e had dinner at Tante Mima's in the evening.
At home we put up the kelambu, talked a long time, and slept without the benifit of mousquito
bites. I had listened to the radio before went to sleep and got the news. Im beat me twice
at chess this PM, and I couldn't aeem to get my heart into it. Tired, I @uess.
12, FRIDAY. - @e took our time about aetting up this morn@ng. I had nasi pulut and Ama
had pisang goren@ at Man's with our coffee this mornin3. Then we pounded the offices. At the
police they cheated Ama out of about 80 rupiahs or so, but On Salasiwa iwho I had seen
yesterday) was Fleasant, and told us about one being ressurrected from the dead at a dana
village just recently. We had lunch and cofeee at Mima's on the way home, and Am@ told some
stories. At home we worked fitting latches, and I typin8. @ Sileki boy from Waeplau came in
while I was typing and Ama got @oing talking to him till I couldn't make any pro@ress for a
long while. On the way to the Police, someone had called to Ama, and it was a fellow from
Oma who was staying at the @@kano h9use, He @as @oing hunting this afternoon, and promised
to tBke Ama @@-hs-e@ms-@@-@@ at ni@ht if he came. The h8nting trip didn't turn out.

13, Saturday, Namlea.- Went asking all around for a bol or trunk to put the t@@4@ I brought
fro@ Ambon in. Man and tok@ Batubual both had chests that they wanted @p2,500 for. Old
and very well used things for that impossible price. Batubual had a crate for four hundred
rupiahs, but it was dirty and not in good condition, On our way there a@ain Ama spied just
the thing we needed in the GAPIP godown, and it only cost us Rpl5O! Ama carried it home on
his shoulder and I went to try to see the @ps, but failed. @e spent the a@ternoon packing,
so 8utt by the time we had the crate nailed shut and went looking for transportation the
truck had already pulled out.

i@@

14, S@u@t@y, K@amlea.- We held hasty devotions, butdid no morethaawhatwehaddone all
the other days,-simply reading a passa@e and then praying,- since we had arrived. $e had
asked the Army truck to wait for us but it @as pulling out just as we arrived. I called
several times for it to stnp as it moved off up the hill. There were several men in uniforms
Btanding around in front of their headquarters and we were approaching along the PO street.
None of them made a move to help us. The chauffer evidently didn't see us. There were Chinese
girls in the back of the truck and they looked at us, but not one of them would so much as
knock on the cab for us. I grew wroth sith those standing around when they laughed at and
scorned me for missing the truck when not a one of them would make a move to h@lp. Then I
felt sorry that I had dessicrated our s&bbath with an@ry @ords and @ith trying to leave on
that day in the first place. Ama and I went hiking in the rest of the day. @e stopped at
the Jiko Besar cajuput distillery where we drank some @re@i coconut juice and ate the
tender meat of the fruit, for Nhich I made the boy a present of RplO. Bew@-at-@@@-@e@s@-
It was the same distillery that Puan and I went to that time with Tina. Down at the beach
we found them pulling in baby sharks about a cubit long on right after the other using live
teri that they grapple-hooked from the limbs of the mangrove trees for bait. It was a pleas
antscene, and thesepeople seemed more pleasant. I sat on the s@d alittlewhile and watchf@,
It was threatening rain from the interior. Ama and 1 went on and sat at an exFosed place
where I tun@d in my radio on FEBC and got a sunburn while Ama, after being unsuccessfu@ in
getting me to go on to a better spot, found shelter under some bushes or weeds or something.
It rained on the way home and Ama and I took refu@e for a time under some trees, where we
had a heart to heart conversation. It rained even after we arrived home, till we had to wait
to Lri eat.

15, Monday, @amlea.- Im came to my place after I had been to his. He spoke of going with us.
I had stopoed off at Krikhoff's on the way home, but my taperecorder still wasn't working.
JANUA@Y 1968. Namlea - sawa, l5th, continued.-

R@m@t@af f@mily. I gave Ama the bed while I used the floor. (on a mat, of course .

16, Tuesday, Sawa - Silmai.- After a breakfast of coffee and pulut rice at the Bamatraf's
house Ama and I got on the Army truck from Namlea and rode it to Lamahang, where I disembar
ked at the coffee shop with the thin@s but Ama stayed with the truck till Waeplau to visit
Noce Haum@h@. we had had a top horse abo@rd the truck as far as WaePerang. I drank coffee
as I waitedfor @map and when he returned ee walked on to Silmai, @oosing our way in the
stream where they had made the new garden. At Silmai we found the Solisa's and Mukaconto
there. Puan hadn't come with them. Andi said (when I asked him that she hadn't shown any
intention to. Budin had already gotten the church building project underway, and one of the
men from GriaLaSet had already been cutting the ti@bers. Ama preached a nondescript sermon
about something or the other in the evening service.

17, Silmai.- Am@ and some others went early to hunt, but returned unsuccessful. @e spent the
day resting. solisa suggested Ama a@ain as speaker for the evening service, appearantly
because he couldn't very w@ll su@@eat himself, and didn't vant to su@@eat me. Another
nondescri@t sermon.

18, @@ !@? Silmai - Hatawano.- Offto a ratherlate atart. Andi carried Ama'sburden as
far as the forkd near Waeplau, and I sent the little saron@ that Margi and @arcella had
given me as a present to Lesan, who has some of *y things at @@ his house. I slipped and
st@ggered and fell all along the slippery way. till we got to the road. I let Ama carry
hisb@rden through @teplau,but thenl took it from him and car@iediton to NaUra, wherel
got the hamper that I had sent on to Samsu's. We talked some, and Samsu's wife fed us our 1
lunch with plenty of pork from a boar that they had recently shot. Ama dot too carried away
with fixh stories to do mush good testifying. I spoœe to him about this later as we wer wal
kin8 on toward Samala@i. I gave Chatib 15 of my sul@as-chinin malaria pills there. @e forded
the Samala@i inland, where I had bathed a time or two, and reached Batawano in the gathering
8100m. There was a superb storm scene as we ap@roached, and I just wanted to s@and and
gaze out over those heavy, short seas pound n the rocky beach. Bapa Muta received us.
                                      in-dn

19, Friday. Hatawano @aenibe.- We were off to an earlier start this morning after a very
light breakfast of a @lass of coffee and a couple of fried bana s or so, I gave Muta @p>OO
after breakfast, the nking him for all his many goodnesses. All had on the trail were
some kuin@s , a mango and a half a pineapple that Ama found along the path all the way @@
""di="9p through stream and rain to @aenibe. There a woman called to Ama, and we found
""@'
that the teacher Latuperisa's wife was from Oma too, and they had us for dinner, for which
they went all out and killed a chicken! Ama slept ttiere and I at the kepala soa 's, who
is 81s0 said to be a matgueul, I had been to Wala's house late, as I had promised him to
come but the @uru's wife had b@en a long tim@ cooking. Then I sat up till about midni@ht
with the kepala soa, who talked to me about my work and Buru and his plans to go into the
interior sometime after Au8ust this year and rally support and then overthrow the king of
Licela. I was flattered that he should confide in me. He said that if I should see Mate-
Besi of Asukedawain to let him know he was coming, I had bothered the kep@la soa for a @lass
of drinking water, not realizing what trouble it would mean to him as he @ad to unlock the
back door and go out to the kitchen in back to get it, but I @as satisfied with plenty. @e
brouiht the pitcher along with himi To bed after 12. Very tired.

20, Saturday. Waenibe - Selmai.- We had breakfast at the guru's and at the kepala Q@a's
both. Heavy rains detained us so that we couldn't get away till about 10 AM. The kepala
Soa arran@ed for a couple of lads to guide us across the Waenibe, and after the@ insisted r
re@eatedly I let oBe of them take my thin@s. We for@ot to wear some sort of headgear in
d4fiance of the superstition the D@. had told us about . went on in the rain after t@anking
them for ttieir help. The water had been deep but the current wasn't swift. It came up
about as far as our chests. Had stopped at Wamlana soaking wet, but couldn't find the
Wakil or Tahir there. I fell from an embankment that I didn't see where the Wamlana had
eaten away the sand, and broke my precious 600cc bottle of anthelmintic on a rock, getting
my clothing wet with the syrup. I kneeled and cried or whimpered in the sand while Ama
went to rinse my things. It had cost Rp900, and the people needed it very much. Through more
streams and over more trails and beaches till we arrived at Selmai, at about a quarter to six.
He went to bathe hurriedly and returned to see if we could pick up a radiogram from Ambon,
but I couldn't recognize RRI Ambon and we failed a@@@together. I was surprised to find the
radio dry and okay in its plastic cover. Ama and I testified in the evening service, and
Puan preached a befuddled sermon on the "Ten Virgins" parable. I tuned in Sileki on FEBC.
We had a horrible,sleepless night of mosquitoes. Ama had fled to the church and I found him
JHmu@l9@.

21, continued.- Corry and Puan rendezvoused with Salasiwa at Airbuaja (Oom Nik) and
they went to WaeBeso this afternoon. There Salasiwa straightened out the tribal elders on
freedom of religion. We now have about a dosen new converts there. They arrived home too late
for the evening service, so I led @@@-A@@-s@eke playing my @uitar, and Ama spoke. They
arrived before service was out with good news from WaeBeso and greetings from Salasiwa.
Am@ was t&lking bois@erously so I Just went outside and sat on the little knoll in the
center of the compound playing ny guitar till late. I slept better with a fire tonight.

22, Monday. Selmai.- Up late. Coffee, Ama off with A@us to look for a tree to build the
canoe from. He returned with a bunch of @a@an@ nuts, which he thinks the Buruese don't
know what to do with. We worked some toward moving the house, but stopped at Puan's
behest when she came out to inspect our work, being short of manpower. Ama had told me
about Sarawang's invitat@$n for ws to come to dinner and his move to repent. A@a sat and st
struamed the guitar, but I got him to help me look for a paddy site. I worked awhile alone
in the afternoon near Kofi's house to prepare a paddy, but wasn't very successful, I returned
to the house,took one of the rattan chairs out in back of the k@tchen and sat reading from
@understanding Chemistry". Baris came and stood by me as Ama and Corry werepreparing to
leave for the village with our passes, and I talked some to him after finishin8 my chapter.
I encouraged him to start coming to services a@ain. Some of the people here had evidently
told him not to come so as to relieve the friction between them and his parents. Baris and
Alasan went looking for a paddy site with me and we found a better site downstream from the
co@pound. We worked some and returned. I bathed and went to Sarawang's h@use **@@-P-- at Selmai
Selmai-nangan with Puan, where we waited for and had supper with Corry and Ama who arrived
just as we were about to go ahead and start eating without them because it was getting too
dark. We learned that there was a woman having maternity difficulties at WaeSeren who had
requested prayer, and that Yakub was going to her. She had made her delivery but no afterbirth.
I went up to the church to bring the t@in. before the Lord vhen we got back, and the others
followed me there later and we p@ayed for some time. We practised singing till late, then
ate s@3@@@- boiled gajang @uts ana Ama told of his love affairs with Sari and others. We

laughed and laughed at Ama's atories. Then I came and stood at the head of his bed and coun
cilled him about talking too much after he had lain down. We talked on even after I had
gone to my own bed, and Ama's mind groped for what approached brilliance in those moments.
If only he had had some upbringing! The mosquitoes were horrible @kx* in the night. Puan
came and rekindled the fire. Ama had fled.

23, Tuesday. Selmai.- Had to scythe with my spade to clear the a@ang2  grass today, as I
have no tools to clear the land. Baris came to me as I was bathing in  the late af@ernoon
and said that ne couldn't come to the service to@ight as he was @oing  to be at Airbuaja.
I couldn't bring myself to sing in the evening service as the rasping  of Ama's strumming on
my guitar seemed to @rate into my very soul. I had received 2 sets of  fine classical strin@s

from Mother, and fitted the guitar vith one of them, and it hurt me to hear them so rou@hly
abused. Ama seem@ to have commandeered my @uitar. Ama spoke from Psalms, but I could seem
to get no sense out of it.

@@ 24, Wednesday. Selmai.- Inhuman suffering from mosquitoes all these ni@hts here. Stayin@
up very late and not getting enough sleep, The weather is brightening up nicely, though.
Puan and Corry wouldn't eat lunch with us except with the greatest reluctance, and when
puan wouldn't even open her mouth when Ama asked her to pray it was I who left the table.
I went out and worked moving the walls of the house. Corry came out and be8ged me to quit
@ut I wouldn't. The @irls made coconut oil in the afternoon. I later worked my paddy some
more. Puan, Corry and Ama were sitting outside when I returned.

25, Thursday. Selmai.-

26, Friday. Selmai.- @$+@A@e@-th@ I spent the night with comparatively few @osqu@toes
under the pastorate, and before I was even out of @Jed" in the mornin8 a couple of fellows
had come to see about moving it. @e moved it before breakfast, Ama took the leadership,
knocking out supports, etc. He alone was under it knocking out the last supports. I was
watching and Yarned him of the possibility that the whole thing might keel over and crash
do@n sideways toward the east. He said he thought no. *hen taken a better look, As it turned
out it went just about the way I had warned, and I expected Ama to end up underneath,
JANUARY 19@9. 26th continued,-

but he darted out, cuick as a wink, and stood laughing nervously on the west sidel
We all got on the inside and lifted amd found we were able to move the whole roof part
to the new site. Ama told 8m Thomas to shut up, that he didn't know anything; and Ama
was just a wee bit ri@ht. @hen Corry added her say and he told her to shut up too. @his
was hard on her e80. Wadu began a long seizure just as we were finishing up with the house.
Corry had @otten up looking an@ry when a wom@n had brought her tithe of cucumbers inthe
afternoon and complained that she didn't want the people to bring tkeir produce as tithes
but their money. I had been talking to Puan about how to handle the financial problem
this sort of tithing brough about, but felt that it was fine that the people were bringin@
food. I @ad been called from my work at the paddy to or@y for dadu, and it sas only
then that I learned of his s@@@ure. He uas in bad sAape. Corry was with him, 2nd had been
@@h@kl@@XXS@ pleading the blood. I askfd them to bring some coconut oil, and prayed a simple
prayer with weeping, @ne Buruese in the house wept with me. @adu kept @etting worse and worse
after this, his attacks coming at shorter intervals, but he being unconcmmus all the whil@,
evidently. Ee rubbed his right knee bare on the bar@ floor of Yakub's @itchen. nis head
and should@rs were @iery hot while tht rest of his body were @ooler. After I p@ayed I had
kept cold water packs on his Sorehead and head to try to lower the temperature. I later tieB
his legs when I found that they had left him to rub his knee so bare. @e was filt@y. In the
evenins service *e@e-ws we were interrupted before I could finish my sermon on the 23rd
Ps@@m by a little boy who came and stood in the back door and announced that Wadu was trying
to eat his hand. @here were and had been loud rebukings and exhorcisin@s from the direction
of Yakub's house. I @sked stopped and asked if there were any man at Yakub's and when they
told me no I asked just one man to leave and make sure that everything was all ri@ht.
IrebukedCorryandAmabothatthedinner li;@n good-naturedlyandonlylau@led,
nuisance of himself. Fortunately the people es@@ all

z@ Saturday. Se@@l.- I spoke dramatically on the error of Buruese adat in the evening
service, and finished by speaking from the first verses of 1 John >. I rebuked Puan at
supper for the lifelessness with which she led the service. @nen Corry later told me that
she h8d been crying, @-te@@-her-@ha@ I said @ raise the Lord", and told her that that was @ood,
As it turned out Puan wasn't angry, and we had a good talk, and Corry adm*@@e@ owned up to
some spiritual backsliding on her part since she arrired,

28, Sunday. Selmai.- They had already startedSunday and Unu and a boy came in and sat
down on the ratt@n chairs as I was getting up. I spoke crossly to them about sitting
here while church was going, tellinb them that we were a worshipping people, and if @ley
wanted go come h@re they should be in the church during services. When I got to church and
sat down after I had put my things away and S.S. was over I found my @uitar sitting on tSe
table so I took it and held it as I sat on the front row. Ama as@ed for it and I said neve r
ming, thatl wouldplayit,Itwasjust aslfl didn'tknow how to playii.at all or some
thing. This morning was the first time I had played my guitar in several services, and I
"ould only do it then with a stru@gle. I felt tense as I played t hat service, whereas I
USU8lly feel very natural playing my @uitar. We didn't start singing till all were present
and service was started, as I had su@gested before. Puan led the sin8ing with a broken, re
repentant spirit, and did well. I spoke on the narrow @ate, and Corr3 later told me that m@
sermon had made quite an impression on Unu. There was a fine spirit that morning. 4 came
forward for re@e- salvation and we prayed with them. @hen I asked for testimonies and there
were several. There @ere a great num@er of people there tkat mo@ning. We gave out scores of
@alaria pills. In the e?ening e@@*ee- service I spoke on the remainder of the first part of
1 John 3, up to the end of t@@ para@ra@h. I wanted to rebu@e them at the e*e@ dinner table
but Unu was thfre. @hey had opened the evening service clanL@ng my guitar in direct defiance
of my advice. They had lapsed back into automation. @hey had asked prayer again for the

Kepala Daerah u@hl). How our precious wine has become mingled with water!

23, Monday, Selmai.-

30, Tuesday, Selmai.- I spoke on Jude 20 in the evening service.
@@ Ws@ne@@@v- Selmai.- I wo@ked on the house with the girls. At least Puan. Had brought
@DmmY9M.

2, Friday. Selmai.- Got up at about 7 to pray for the men who were going off on a hunt.
Ama got up just as the last of them were leaving, and findine out what was going on he
quickly borrowed a spear and went after them. It seems that they had tried to hide the matter
from him or something. I fastened a clip to the end of my antenna wire. Puan went with me to
help in the e@we paddy this morning. We were going to plant, but whem we let the water out
it was still too uneven and muddy. She had a dog bite on her leg, but finally got in and
helped me to get the thing leveled. Ance, Anto's girl, came and we sent her after a
parang. I arrived back at the village exhausted. Shooed Corry and another woman from their
washing, bathed, and went to bed. Our hunters returned with a good sized deer all skinned
and readyin the afternoon. At Yakub's requestPuan Corry and I went to his house to offer
up a prayer of thanksgiving. Corry and Puan seemed to be in too light a mood, so I was more
than willing when they said I should pray!  I think I asked who should be the one), I went
to the church to pray in the early evening. Then spoke on Daniel and the Lions in the evening
service. I had been told by Baris that he was going to start to church again tonight. He
had gotten and hid the clothing that they had locked away from him.

Selmai, Thursday, February 1, 1968.
A severe wind and rain storm knocked walls from the parsonage and
leaned it over backwards just before dawn this morning.  I got up late, and went doggedly
backto work on the house. I succeeded in straightening it up again in a rather short time.
Agus protested all the while.  He wanted me to wait until they could get the whole
village together again to do it! I had Agus working on bamboo lath for the blinds all
afternoon. Got Ama to help with the wall lashings.  I left him to complete the work while I
worked on my paddy. I worked leveling it some, but it still slants.  When I returned I
found Ama sitting talking, the work on the walls only half done. He had"shown them how
to make the blinds" and I had to undo the sample he had made with them and do it over
again, and discovered that Oom Agus was doing it wrong with me this secondtime, so had to
undo his part and do it over once again! Puan went to the beach this morning, and after
quite some time returned with some fish that she had bought from the bubu trap people.
I rebuked Ama again afterlunch today fortalkingtoo much.  The girls went to Airbuaja
this afternoon and when they returned they evidently saw the one blind that I had finished
and hung up.  Then they complained to me and Corry now wanted walls. I was very discouraged.
Especially to think that Corry would let Oom A@us work all afternoon long on the project
first. Not to mention Antonis going and cutting the bamboo and rattan and Tanel
stripping part of it. All of which I paid for! They explained that blinds were okay on an
extended varandah, and Puan said that I had used too broad a stock, as the blimds she had
seen in ambon were of very narrow lath. It seems that once these people have done a thing
one way they can never change.  They will have to shut out all the glory of the wilderness
for their shabby (Joe: There seemed to be a word here, perhaps "gaba2") walls, I suppose! Ama has been very lazy here, and I dreamed last
night that he had made an outrigger that was much too small for me, and that Antonis had
told me about it and that we had gone and gotten it and tried it out in Mother's garage at
the Hacienda Heights place. It was too small for me. I told Corry to get in and try it and
she refused, and when I looked up it was Corry Tahapari!
       FEBRUARY 1968

Selmai, Saturday, February 3, 1968.
Funny coincidence. Childrens story over FEBC featured Daniel and the
Lions this morning. Am letting the paddy dry today. Listening to the radio to get all the
use out of the batteries as I am about to leave Selmai. Was sitting in the kitchen when the
Daniel story came over the air. I have been tuning in on Australia at 11 AM in the mornings
to try to get Puan interested in the English. A terrible wave of discouragement is sweeping
over me. I had been complaining to Puan as I worked at the paddy yesterday about this feeling.
I can't ever get anything done in Buru unless I do it with my own right and left hands. The
Buruese are useless people who can't be trusted to get anything done, forget their promises,
etc. I went down to the paddy in the late afternoon. Sat down and wept and prayed and asked
to die. I thought of going home to the states, but knew I couldn't ever be happy there. I
thought about my impossible plight in Buru. In Indonesia, where no one appreciates you at
all, and I felt it would be better were I dead. Then I opened my eyes and looked up into the
heavens, and I could still see well enough to know that there before me was one of the most
beautiful things I had ever seen. The beauty of the wilderness was far above what man could
ever ask or think, the contrast of the yellow alang2 grass with the asure sky in the early
sunset! Billowing white clouds looming up in utter quietness from the east. The branches of
a tall tree silhouetted against them. As if in those etherial fo@ds of fluffy cloud one could
lose his soul. There was too much detail there ever to paint with a brush. Enough to discourage
the most patient of artists. A thing too perfect. Still I was not comforted. I didn't know
what to preach. In the evening service I announced the discontinuation of the Saturday night
meeting, as we had decided that there were too many services. I had noticed the spirit of
boredom and advised them to do so. I preached a poor sermon on the Holiness required of God
in the evening service.
Corry went up to where Ama was and sent for the guitar by Alasan, saying that they wanted to
practice a song. Puan went out back someplace and when she came back I called her and talked
to her, and broke off my engagement with her. I was lying on my back in bed and she came and
sat down in a chair nearby. Her reaction was to accuse me of deceiving her. I told her my
feelings, and was telling her that if her heart were right in this matter she would naturally
want to come and meet my mother in Namlea. Corry had been iraning in the church in the afternoon,
and I had taken a cup up there with four paper ballots in it, asking Puan to come along.
Then I made them draw and they drew twice both getting a positive and a negative both times.
Then I reduced the bits in the cup to two, one positive and one negative, and let Corry draw.
She drew the negative, which meant that she would have to stay and let Puan go. They had both
said that they wanted to go. Then Puan backed out and said that Corry would feel bad because,
according to Puan, she had already told someof the people she was going. Corry later told
me that Andi Solisa had warned them both not to walk alone again with me. So I agreed, and told
Corry to come With me, that Puan didn't want to go. I was so sick with everything, and the
last thing I wanted to do was fight Puan's malu2 business, and I had decided that if this
were the way that it was to be, then I surely didn't want to have to be up against this sort
of thing all the rest of my life.  I told her she was free of me now, and was saying that
if her heart were right in this matter she would surely want to go; Corry surprised us, and
it seemed that she must have overheard some of what we had said, if she weren't actually
eavesdropping.  There was an awkward silence. Then I asked if they weren't practicing after
all or what.

Selmai, Sunday, February 4, 1968.
I went to Sunday school and Puan, looking attractive and neat in a skirt with broad
horizontal red stripes, taught one of those modern lessons about a boy who sold papers and
lived in a barrel and got saved and died in a hospital. I spoke on @ p@@@r 1:5-9, which was
rather dull for the congregation who didn't understand most of the @@g nouns.@m ita@  It was
dry i concede. As I was lying on my dego2 Baris brought me a bitter letter from Puan,
pouring out her confusion disgust and apology.  I felt sorry for her, and know that I still
love her, really, though how deeply I don't really know.  She went out to the new house and
sat playing the guitar in the afternoon and I followed her there. I sat talking with her
alone, trying to reason with her. Alasan came and left again, Baris too, came later. Then I
called for Oom Agus and Corry, and after a long wait after Oom Agus came, and even Puan had
walked off, they finally came ithe 2 girls), and I reasoned with Oom Agus in their presence
about his behaviour toward Baris.  He had been scolding Baris yesterday and telling him not
to set foot in his house, as Baris' relatives were up in arms again, and Baris' Mother is
OmAgus' sister.  lH;: wept and prayed with him, and afterward.I had embraced him as we left
as a gesture of 'co ort, % ove. I spoke on the Great White Throne of Judgment from Revelation
in the evening.

S@J         "               '
FEBRUARY 1968

Selmai - Waenibe, Monday, February 5, 1968.
We never got away from Selmai till about 10 or so, after packing
and eating our breakfast. I ate plenty of kasbi so as to avoid being weary from hunger on the
trail. What really held us up, though, was Puan. What should she decide first thing in the
morning'tA@ She was going with us, and from Namlea on to South Buru. She was all spiffed up.
What could I do. I had to humour her, coax her, tease her until I felt she would stay. When
we prayed to leave she slipped out, and as I left I looked for her but they told me that she
had gone ahead with Corry. How dissappointed I was to learn later on the beach that she wasn't
with Corry at all but had gone up to one of the other houses and evaded us completely. She
never even shook my hand. I had intended to give her some money for Ama's keep. We met @nu
on @i trail on his way to Selmai with some fish. Ama had left with Sarawang and his son to
hunt for kusu at Bara. I asked for a canoe for sale all along the way but had no success
whatsoever. At Wamlana I saw the Wakil, who said he had malaria and was too sick to make
me a letter for me to go to the interior with now, but would do it for me when I came back.
He had told me orally to go ahead and go, though. I had told him of my plans to ascend from
Wamlana this time. I promised him some pills before I really thought. Then asked Corry if she
had the pills I had given her earlier with her. She missunderstood and said "No". I was then
forced to give the ones Willis had given me on my word not to give any of them to anyone else,
or go back on my promise to give the Wakil some when I had the bottle in my hand. I gave
him a cure dose of 8. We forded the Waenibe inland, following Corry, who had been there- that
way before. I had a hard time, and jabbed my left eye and only good one, really hard on a
twig or something as I stooped, but fortunately it caught me on the skin of the lower lid.
At WaeNibe we put in at the Kepala Soa's, where I sat and talked till Corry returned from the
Guru Latuperisa's with an invitation to spend the night in an empty house that they were
using. That night we only had the remainder of our provisions to eat. I had good conversation
with the Guru, and it was either this night or the next morning that he advised me to ask
Wala sometime about holding services in his house. I testified to the guru too. There was a
good spirit. Perhaps a hunger for the things of God. Kepala Soa said he had met Matebesi.

Waenibe - Hatawano, Tuesday, February 6, 1968.
We had plenty of kasbi for breakfast a@@- at the guru's,
but never got away till late, what with the rain. I think that it was about 10 again.
I was so reluctant at the entrance to the trail through the alang2 grass, and wanted to go
looking for a perahu for sale. My weariness and discouragement are evidently partly from an
abortive attack of malaria, for which I took a pill or two and by. In any case I was weak
as water, and had a hard time seein. Perhaps too it was the psychological thing of not being
able to use the perahu that I had expected Ama to have finished by now. We stopped at a shady
spot on the beach before where you ford the WaePoti,and I lay down on the pebbles in my
weakness. I had been in a playful mood, at rest,"anting @dve@@ ` 'Running down slopes, etc.
pullingCorry and Antonis backwards when they tried to offer ass*t @@ hand. I felt so blackly
discouraged! A heavy laden perahu passed by as I lay there. Corry suggested that it was
Puan's anger that made me have such a hard time. It was no trouble to ford the WaePoti this
time. I went up to Huna's to borrow a perahu or rent one or buy one, but he was gone to Namlea.
Chunga was there, they told me. His house was closed tight, butlad knocked and when he heard
that it was I he opened and I found him and some Malay fellows the middle of a gambling card
gane, and his eyes looking drunk and the smell of spirits on his breath. When Corry and
Antonis came we drank some cold tea. Then Chunga offered his own perahu free as long as I
returned with it in a week. There was only one paddle, an when I suggested looking for
another Antonis said that he wasn't going to go in a perahu. When I arrived at the beach I
found a heavy clumsy Buruese outrigger sitting half full of water. Chunga had warned me that
the lashings were a bit loose, but I was really unprepared for what awaited me. The right
outrigger was broken just before where it reaches the front strut. I returned Chunga's
paddle. Returned to the others at the beach. Took a message for Huna from his wife, and we
left. On the rise up from Selubu, Corry suggested that we stay there in the little hut on
the hillside for a day or two. At WaePrea I again asked about a canoe, but still no success.
I went to the stream to drink, and as I was on my way a woman ran after me to detain me for
tea, but I said I felt I needed fresh water. She was evidently a relative of Bazir Tenga2's
but I didn't know it. She had such a sincere and compassionate face! I found a beautiful fall
after following the sound of the water, and a man bathing there alone. I even asked him if
the water was pure, but never knew that it was Bazir till Antonis (Lagie) told me later as
we went on on our way. I felt so discouraged with my plight, that I should not even be able
to recognize a friend at a time like that, when he had shown me such kindness always. Antonis
had been very impressed with the people of Waeprea, and said that they would have fed us
if Corry hadn't spoiled it by going on ahead. We stopped andbathed at the second stream to
the west of Hatawano. Not the one that flows all dry season, but the next one to the west.
It was dark when we reached Bapa Muta's. In fact it was dusk when I reached the stream, and
FEBRUARY 1969. 6th, continued.-

At the evening meal Bapa Nuta was apologetic because all they had on the table was the
famous kasbi (boiled). I told him not to be malu2 with me, as that was what I ate,mostly,
whenever I went into the country. I overheard them talking about how the sauce and the
papeda were meant for each other, and then I saw that the man to my left had papeda on his
plate. I asked if they were melakat-ing. Bapa Muta didn't want to offer me any, fearing
enbarrassment, but one of his wives wanted to let me try some. I said that if the boed of t@
chicken had given me the go ahead that nobody could stand in my way, and I got some, and
indeed the sauce was perfect for papeda. Bapa Muta said that they had speared the fish. It
had rather tough meat for a fish, but was good. I had my usual bed. Antonis stayed with a
relative of his wife's but Corry also stayed at Bapa Muta's, and I spoke to her in the inter
mediate room as we left the dining room.

Hatawano - Sawa, February 7, 1968.
It had been calm on the sea from Airbuaja to Hatawano, but
from Hatawano the sea took on a rough aspect again. I had mentioned once to someone that
the east wind never reached the area passed Hatawano, but found that now, in the west monsoon,
there had been wes@e@@@-ee-@e@@@*ee- easterly or northeasterly winds blowing these past 2
days or so. An odd situation. We had breakfast earlier as usual at Bapa Muta's, but only a
couple of fried bananas or so. Fortunately Corry had been able to buy a few more for provisions,
and we had some o*' the seup above the cliffs, where there were a few canoes fishing below at
the time. Antonis hadn'@ even had any breakfast at all. We forded the Samalagi inland, and
Corry said that the water down at the river mouth looked dark and wide. Evidently the action
of the waves and the current of the stream had washed out the rivermouth to where it was
impassable. We didn't stop at Chatib's house or at the Guru Noya's. We only stopped and stood
briefly to say a word or two to Samsu's wife. We were very thirsty on the exposed road to
Waeplau, and wanted to ask for or buy some drinking coconuts all the way but weren't successful
until we were just about upon the village. There we found a widow in her coconut grove, and
after asking and receiveing permission to take a few we found that she was the mother of the
young Guru with whom I had tea that time at his house in Waeperang. I gave her Rp10 for the
4 nuts that Antonis knocked down. There were no other green nuts on the tree and the trees
were tall in her grove and the wind was blowing. It happened that the one the widow got was
one that burst when it hit the ground, so she didn't get any water to drink, and she had said
that she was thirsty also. I felt sorry. The sun was blazing down. At Waeplau we stopped at
Napi's house - where I had lunch that day on my way down - and I was surprised to find that t
they were the relatives of Anto's (Mukabasa's) that she had told me about. They gave us a
drink and we went on. I stopped to ask at the other Chinese shop for Huna, who's wife had
given me a message for him. I found that he had been staying at Inye's. Antonis and Corry
went on ahead, as they were going to Budin's. I was hailed by Inye from the road. Went in and
visited with him. (It seems that Corry and Antonis were there at first , Then was invited to
eat, and had a decent rice meal out back in the breezeway of his spacious house. He offered to
sell it to me, as he says that he is moving to Ambon. He complained to me about the Protestants.
Showed me his collection of old @@@@ee clay and chinaware. I walked on. At Waeperang I went down
to where the bridge used to be. descended down the concrete ruins and hailed a boy on the other
side asking for a canoe- he showed me that there was one tied up on my side of the stream. As
I went to it there was a young man who came down to the stream on the other side and seemed to
take charge. He said unkind words about my eyes and my not being able to see properly. He also
asked if I knew how to paddle. I answered a flat no. S@@BX Acted as if I had never seen a canoe
before. I paddled with my staff (I had been stopped by the Lieutenant at Waeplau and he had
returned the old staff that I had left at his house that time to me. I had heard that the
fare was Rp15 per person without freight. I had paddled the thing across the stream myself and
even slipped in, and gotten my pants wet in the process because of the awkward way and place it
was tied. I had held onto the line and was going to untie it when it came loose and I slipped in.
When I got to the other side he wanted @5. He said that the price had just gone up with the
motor fare. I complained bitterly and said that the people there were blood-suckers.I took out
a Rp50 note and would have paid him his price but he had no change. Cooncidentally there happened
to be some people that wanted to come across again on the other side just that moment so he
said to wait and get my change from them. I waited and then heard the little boy who went
across to get them say "Rpl T' and decided that they had tried to cheat me and I had heard the
proof, so I just got fed up, turned my back and walked off. The kids bothered me through the
village, some shouting that I hadn't paid. One idiot (an adult) sat at his doorstep and told
me that my pants legs were wet as I walked by. They have that unsquelchable attitude about
them, where they can't possibly see that the reason your pants are wet is because they haven't
done a thing toward repairing the bridge. They can't understand why I don't ever feel the least
embarrassed if I enter their villages looking a bit shabby after fording their unbridged streams
and walking their muddy paths. I reached Sawa just at dusk and spent the evening with the Ba-
FEBRUARY 1968. @th continued.-

was in operation, so it left without me, evidently while I was enjoying tea and peanuts and
conversation with my Chinese friend. Who should have come in while we were talking but
Adrian, that boy from Hunut who used to play ball with us. He had entered the army several
years ago and done service in Ceram, and had just been transferred here. I had a conversation
and my lunch with the old man, Achmed, and when Abdoul didn't show up by two in the afternoon
I set out on foot. It was pleasant at the Bamatraf house, and I have a feeling that Doul's
sister likes me a little. She always serves me so nicely and seems s@@@w@@. so kind. I walked
to Jiko Merasa and was stopped by the mechanic who lives at Jiko Merasa, where I had tea
(at his house). Huna was there and I gave him his message from his wife. Brekan was also there,
and we had a lively but light conversation, then I went with the fellows on the truck as far
as Lala, where the truck had a flat and they had to change the tire. They were only to go a
little farther, so they told me to go on ahead. I walked on. Discovered a way to tow my
bundle indian style with my staff and thus take a load off my very sore foot and go faster.
Before this I had walked with a man and his wife on their way to the fields, and they were
very polite to me, and if I remember rightly they asked me to stop at their house if I were
to be by Lala again. There is a waterfall that you can hear inland from the road, and they
told me that it all goes down into a cave, but that the stream only runs in the rainy
season. How strange a thing in a place like that! I made it to Namlea before dark and had
supper at the Menadonese place before going on to the house (my house). I found the place
empty, and just as Ama and I had left it. I felt grateful when, after going down to Oom Andi's
bathroom by faith, I found just enough water in the drum for my bath. His house was all closed
up and no one was around. I stopped at Martin's to ask for a pelita, but he was gone, and
they didn't even have one to light their front room. I later got one from Gerson, and was relieved
when he didn't stay after giving it to me, as I don't trust him in my house after loosing
my pomade that time that he helped me when I arrived before.

Namlea, Friday, February 9, 1968.
Went to Krikhaoff's and sent Mother a cable and Morris a cable. The one
to Mother was asking her to come on the Ampera, which we expected in the morning, only to
receive a cable hot off the wires from Sis Luhukai telling me that Mother was leaving today
on the Ampera! Krikhoff told me that Abdoul had sent my other cable day before yesterday.

Namlea, Saturday, February 10, 1968.
I played chess with Ibrahim and testified the strongest ever to him this
afternoon. I think that he listened for the first time. I think that it sobered him some.

Namlea, Sunday, February 11, 1968.
The Ampera never showed up today, and I thought that perhaps it had gone
viaLeksula. I did an emergency job of housecleaning as I waited, feeling that it was pardon
able this Sunday since Mother was arriving. I moved all the lumber outside under the windows
and moved the bed into the bedroom after throwing out the kitchen business and sweeping the w


Namlea, Monday, February 12, 1968.
Still no Ampera. I met Krikhoff in fromt of the bazaar today and
he said that the Ampera had been cancelled. Im came and played a few games with me in the
afternoon. Quite a few, in fact. I could feel a different feeling about him. As if he expected
to hear more or something. Could never feel the freedom to speak to him today though. We
just played, losing to each other and then after several games I showed him the pictures of
the Arab - Isreali war in NEWSWEEK, and he sat and read for awhile.

Namlea, Tuesday, February 13, 1968.
I received a cable from Nother today telling that she had tried to come
on a B.O. boat but had been forced (they had) to return because of heavy seas.

Namlea, Wednesday, February 14, 1968.
Went and sent cables to Mother and Morris. I was reading when Andi and
Antonis arrived and Gerson heralded their coming. Not too long after I went out to receive them
Corry and Dortea arrived too. I told them that I couldn't receive them into my house as I was
expecting Mother, but they said that they could stay with Bert. I feel fed up with Andi and
Dortea, and mean to get them out of my hair. I went to Maruanaya's and arranged for Corry to
stay there and eat there. Antonis I accepted to stay with me for the time being and to eat
out with me. I went and bought a big hand of bananas at Oom *lbin's and brought them so that
my guests could eat, as they wouldn't get dressed and go to Man's with me for a meal Antonis
later told me that Corry had returned from Maruanaya's and didn't want to sleep there because
there were a couple of bachelor teachers there, and, according to her there wasn't enough
room for her without making the kids sleep on the floor. I had asked repeatedly to make sure
that there was room enough, and Maruanaya had said there was. When Antonis and I returned from
Jasim's, where I had to end up taking him to eat as the other places were closed and I had
already eaten at the Menadonese place, we met Andi and Mrs. Maruanaya on their way to look
for Corry and Dortea. It was late when they all returned, and I didn't recognize Corry's
voice so I supposed that she must have changed her mind and decided to sleep at Maruanaya's a

***** Next item:

POS UDARA

The Great Jack Willis,
Most Honorable Explorer of the Island of Buru
(and other islands of the Moluccan Archipelago!),
Captain Of the Good Ship "Kapal Indjil),
And Our Hero! ..........
W A E P L A U

Namlea, Thursday, April 11, 1968.

Dear Jack,

We are surprised and a little overjoyed to hear that you have arrived
safely in WaPlau.  The man that bears this letter to you is my spy in
WaPlau, Onko Inya, and he can show you around and maybe even let you get in
on a little Chinee cookery if you rub him the right way.  He's a good
fellow, and trying to sell me his house but we don't want anybody to know
it yet.

We are just back from Airbuaja, and I heard that we left Budin's house just
the same day that you arrived!  How do you like that?  Anyway, Mother says
that she had dreamed she saw your fat legs coming through the jungle in a
pair of shorts and tennis shoes!

I sent GENCIL AMBON a cableearly this morning that said that you had made
it through to Waplau, but I could not say how you were in it.  Only now, my
Chinese friend tells me that you are pretty tired, and I can see how you
would be!

Ama Uneputi has returned to Ambon by KDN, but we hear that the boat has
been lost at sea, and I feel desparately worried.  Only good news is that
yesterday they sent out the "Arafura Sea" to look for it.  It has been
about ten days now, and I suppose that the little children aboard must be
beginning to die if they haven't gotten some water from someplace.

My new outrigger is beached in front of Lim Liong Kui's house and a little
to the sunup side.  I want it here and if you have a dependable boy with
you you can let him paddle it here for me.  I don't want it dragged on the
beach though.

I had intended to return to waplau to get my canoe by now, but Mother
simply refuses to let me go.  Sorry I can't come for you, but I talked to
Mother about going to you and she begged me to stay.  Please forgive me,
but You seem to be OK from what they say, so i'll wait for you here.  You
can Walk to Waeperang where the bridge is out in 1 1/2 hours, and get a car
from there.  If there isn't any there there is a truck from Sawa, another
hour's walk down the road, just about every morning at 8:00 AM.

We have bread and other goodies here in Namlea, and we're waiting for you.
My house is very small though, so I won't have room for all of you if there
are many, but maybe we can put part of you up other places.

PS Puan Solissa is here and Corry is at Airbuaja.

They tell us that landing boat No. 10 will be in in a day or so, and it is
a faster boat back to Ambon, that makes the trip in 8 hours, and is a
comparatively new boat.  I hope to get Mother back on that.

I think that your coming has been very timely for the work in the
mountains, and I suppose it came as a great shock to those that oppose my
coming to find that they have been outflanked from theLeksula side by more
Americans still!  Would I ever have loved to see the look on Nawas
Natsikit's face when he saw you!  It would have tickled me so!

So much for now.  Hope to see you tonight, but will see you when you get
here and not before, I guess.

Sincerely yours,
Chaumont Devin.

MAY 1968

1st, continued.-
sounds on the way upstream. There were evidently a couple of strange Buruese birds fighting and
making a real to do in a tree or thicket near the streambank, but I was too concerned with
making good time going upstream to record then. It was before I had gotten up to where the
lumber camp was. Now on my way back, gliding swiftly downstream, I was taking the time to
experiment. The sounds were too weak, really, to be good, and with the amplifier turned up to
high to catch them the mike made too many noises. I did get one strange one that is not
uncommon in Buru, though, and Puan said later that it was a maleo. It was really too late to
record now; there was a lot less activity in the wilderness as the day wore on. It was stiflingly
hot. It was overcast. It was gloomy. There was a headwind that arose. my canoe rushed heedlessly
on, driven by the relentless current. At one place there was that smell again that could have
been from crude oil. I didn't see the place where the stream bubbles, though. In the last lap
of the river I again heard a splash that sounded heavy, but not as heavy as yesterday's, whatever
it had been.

At the estuary a scene burst upon my senses that seemed to strike my mind as beautiful.
It was the Bugis village on stilts at the river mouth. The roar and the din of the place. Like
Makassar. Just like makassar or someplace. One of the houses had well made shutters and frames.
another had a geometrical design on its railing.
I passed on out to sea and met the returning fish prahus. There were a great number of
them sailing in with their triangular sails, mostly died dark brown. The wind was from my
starboard bow, and fairly strong for my poor little canoe. I got wet in the nasty mess that had
set in out in the middle. There was evidently a current moving against the wind too. I couldn't
see the sun to see what time it was. I trolled all the way across and caught nothing. Then i
stopped near Namlea to put my damp shorts on in place of my sarong, and my line got caught on
the bottom and I had to go to all the work of going back to where it was before I could get it
undone. There wasn't anyone who came down to talk to me when I arrived so I had to carry my
canoe up alone. I slung my dirty sarong around it and pushed my paddle through the loops that
were formed and took the paddle in one hand and the outrigger in another. I put it up on
the grass.

Puan was not at the house when I arrived so I left my things outside and went to
Maruanaya's to look for her. She was gone to wash up at the water hole, they told me. There
was only a man there, evidently a guru or something, and a boy who cane and stood in the door
and told me that he had been on the canoe with the raja of Kajeli in it yesterday. It was only
then that I knew that the raja of Kajeli had been in the canoe that Odik was on. I went down
and asked for sugar in the shops (but found none) and had some food at Ima's on my way home.
Puan was sitting in my front room when I arrived. She had brought my things in and proceeded
to show me where they were as I asked for them. I felt sorry about the burden of my eyes. Seri
came and said that she had come for the lamp. I went and got water and they waited for me. Then
they left. While I was cleaning things up, an Oom Nikiulu cane and said that he was a "Sidang"
man from Ambon, and sat down and talked to me while I worked. I had to excuse myself to take a
spongebath, and he left shortly after that. I had the hot water on and would probably have tried
to serve him a drink of some condensed milk and cacao if he had stayed. I had no sugar, though.

Friday, May 3, 1968.  Namlea.

Saturday, May 4, 1968.  Namlea.
I had heard over the Morse that the Geser was coming today. Sure enough,
I heard "Kapal o!" in the morning and there was her faint chugging. I seemed to be able to hear
things before other people. Puan came later and said that Ade Suitela was aboard and that
she had sef1 him E;@ th2t ;e had said t@@jti@ I ha@ anything: for i2ul Ae could take it. I was
she had seen him and that he had said that if I had anything for i2ul he could take it. I was
very busy through the day. Typed a long letter to Paul. Also wrote to Mother. I heard that it
would be some time yet before the B.O. arrived (someone said that it was broken down), and
then Bakri said that it was going right back to Ambon instead of on to Leksula. I went to Puan
at Maruanayas' and talked to her about @us, and she said that she had been thinking about
going to Anbon on the Geser, as I suggested. I asked her to let me know. I packed my little
suitcase for her to take to Leksula for me. She came and it was about three,
and the boat was due to leave at five. I told her to return aMd I would finish up and come to
her later. I was very late, and at about a quarter to five she showed up as I was just finishing
up and we left for the boat. Fortunately I hadn't really definitely promised to be at Maruanaya's
at four, as I had asked if she wanted to come here first before she had left and she had given
me a typically Indonesian bai@e reply. Well, we stopped and she bought some bread for her
provisions at Hassan's. Then on down to the dock. Maruanaya's wife was with us al; @@@ was. Also
one of the kids. (All the was from Maruanayas', that is). I had given Puan six hundred of the
remaining money I had to bring here to a@ tven thousand. The boat never left for the longest
time, and they pulled another one of those deals where some idiot official jumps on the
railing and yells "Semua penumpang turun!"@m@@ After they got the entire @oiœ@ old warf once t
railing and yells "Semua penumpang turun!" @x@ After they got the entire @oi E@ @ld w@r: once t
the men refused to cast off, waiting for someone who hadn't shown up yet. There was an
intelligent seeming, clean dressed young man who shouted at them angrily almost desparately to loose
the ropes, but they wouldn't do it. We complained that the @n,@ ie was warn. Still no response.
The engine was turned off and we waited again. They finally got under way after I had grown
weary of the situation and left and come back. I waved from near the KPS', hoping that Puan
might see me as they pulled slowly out toward the markers. While we were waiting I had shaken
hands with the priest, Oudenhoven, who was leaving too. I had also spoken to the Dr. and
apologized for not coming to his house to pay him for Mother's shot, and tried to pay him then, but
he wouldn't accept, and my sense of tact later told me that perhaps he was offended because I
had waited till this time to try to pay him in front of all the people. I had asked Puan
which one of the people was Ade Suitela, and she called him and I shook his hand and told
him "God bless you" and thanked him for his help in bringing me the money that time. I had made
out a cable for Puan to send me on the back of an envelope, and told her to make sure that she
got it off the first @un@ after her arrival (le to let me know that she was in Ambon) and she
had agreed to do so.

Sunday, May 5, 1968.  Namlea.
Really resting today. Spending the day in bed listening to the radio, etc.
Of course I had some chores that I simply had to get done in the later afternoon. O, Yes, Tete
Salasiwa came and wanted to use my canoe half a day. I forgot it was Sunday at first and
readily agreed. Then I thought and asked him if he were intending to go out on Sunday. With the
excuse that the tar was fresh I @a%;us and I had just tarred her yesterday afternoon n'il @)t him
excuse that the tar was fresh I harkUS and I had just tarred her yesterday afternoon I got him
to lay off it until tomorrow. Then I was the one that sinned, thinking of how dry she was, and
how she had been washed in the fresh rain water. I went down, turned her back right side-up
by myself, and used the remaining tar on the top sides of the outriggers and the inside of
the hull.

Monday, May 6, 1968.  Namlea.
Listened for my cable from Puan but no luck all day. I was worried, but not
really too worried yet. I had been praying for her right along. I was very busy with one thing
and another all day.

Tuesday, May 7, 1968.  Namlea.
I forgot to mention that I had Panji sew my sail yesterday. I had just
@s waked when Panji was outside my bedroom calling to me, and giving me the line about his
progress with finding me some line for my sail. I let him
in the front and found that the little
shrew's real purpose was to ask for a little more varnish in the can that I had let him have the
end of when he begged for it the day before. I gave him a very little. I haB been all over Namlea
yesterdaylooking forcord of any kind without success. I had paid Panji Rp150 for his work,
which wasn't bad. I think that it was today that I went and got the bamboo pole from Zainal,
Man Kei's son, for my mast. I had to give up on the sail, though, for I had no success whatsoever
finding any type of rope or cord in Namlea. I spent the greater part of the day packing, and
got a greatdeal done, so that I made definite plans to leave day after tomorrow. I listened to
the regional ABC station till late and got a nice play and opera arias.

Wednesday, May 8, 1968.  Namlea.
Busy packing and preparing to go all day. Ran from Ima's in the afternoon
after finishing a meal there and had the fish I had paid her Rp30 for in my hand. It was raining
and I was in a hurry to get my clothes in. I thought that I was leapin onto the bridge,
but instead landed right in the gutter in front of Onko Ade Waeperang's, my nose clobbering his
fence on the far side. All my fish were spilled. I found the rantang container but not the lid,
and was sitting looking down for it when Doul Bamatraf came riding up on his scooter. I saluted
him gaily and relaxedly just as if I had been sitting on the edges of gutters all my life. He
was sympathetic. I went back and succeeded in getting some more fish for Rp25. Only had fifty
left then, and it cost Rp45 to send the telegram that I had written to Paul telling of my
departure for Leksula tomorrow. I bought a hand of bananas for ten at Oom Rubin's and didn't
have enough left over for my cable. The thought occured to me to sell my pump up gas lamp mantles.
I got Rp30 apiece for four KUPU2 brand and Rp25 for a SOLAR brand one. Then I went on and sent
my cable and went on to Wowor's, running and ate plenty of deer meat there for another Rp69, and
also bought a slice of bread there for five. It was dark already by the time I was finished,
but Mrs. Wowor was kind to me and had a stick she gave me to use as a cane when I left and I
made it safely home, only stepping a little on a child in the street on the way. At home I
packed furiously on, and did cooking for tomorrow. Now I am finally finishing my diary, and
next thing on the agenda is bed. It is ten pm by my watch.

Thursday, May 9, 1968. Elias was on the beach and there were several other youths who stood
about and helped me and questioned me. I had gotten Elisa to help me by carrying some of my things from the house. There was a strong sibu2 blowing, and the water was a bit rough as I glided out among the waves. I looked at my watch out past Namlea Point and it read 0740. The sibu2 was off my starboard stern after passing Namlea Point, gradually working farther and farther back to directly astern. I had to bail from time to time and got pretty wet. My watch read 1033 hours when I was off Kramat Point. I later rounded a cape from which I got my first view down the stretch of coast to the south
at 1140 by my watch. I stopped to eat lunch at 1230 and drifted past a small village and into some riptides off a little point as I ate. I paused a few moments at Waemorat at 1430, holding my canoe in the light surf with my feet hung over each side, surfboard rider style. There I asked where I was and how far Tanjung Saroma was, etc.
It was starting to rain then, and the rains got worse and worse. There were heavy black clouds in the vicinity of Batak Bual. From time to time it was hard for me to see the shore. The cool rain was a welcome relief to the scorching sun, though. A motorboat had passed me coming into Namlea on my way out. It passed me again from behind in the afternoon, now (I later learned) on its way to Ambelau, and thence to Leksula. I wasn't sure but what it was a fishing boat then, though, but supposing that Puan might be aboard, I waved with my paddle a time or two, having paddled out some to get near it as it passed. I had supposed it to be a rock in the sea at first, rememberring that "Batu Kapal" was written on my map as somewhere in the general vicinity.  I stopped and ate again in the early dusk as I rounded a point that gave me a full view of Ambelau. I felt somehow masterful in those fine moments on the smooth sea in the pale yellow of the hour. I
had fine strength, and would have felt invincible but for my eyes. Somewhat later I put in at a house where I had heard voices from the sea, and was informed that I was at Lamu-lea-Ilat, but the matron I addressed said that there were no menfolk there when
I asked to spend the night. The beach was rocky in front of the house, so I had to go to the trouble of walking all the way back the distance to the landing in vain. She
had said that there was a village not much farther on and i heard voices once again
in the dusk. I couldn't see the approach so I banged my canoe on the reef, not understanding that there were calm waters on the other side, and an entrance to the right. I got my canoe half full of water and thought I heard someone say that I didn't know how to paddle. I finally saw a canoe leaving and understood my trouble and made it in by the way they went out. I found Butonese people who received me with some reluctance at first, making me go to their elder first. Then the man that brought me, his wife harangued him about receiving me in Buruese. Finally another man received me into his house. They had Just returned from Ambon in a large outrigger canoe, they told me, so we only had some left over suami from their provisions with some vegetables. I offered
*4 30 to the woman that would prepare my provisions for the next day's journey, and they offered me more suami, and another offered me a coconut. We talked as best we could between the blare of 2 radios, and I gave out a tract or 2, and learned that their elder was a teacher of Islam. I asked him to read the tract well as he left.
I had enjoyed my well prepared provisions of rice, boiled bananas of my cooking , and fried fish from Ima's.

Friday, May 10, 1968.
I was up, packed and off shortly after it was light, and had provisions of suami, grated coconut meat, red peppers and salt. The hostess had returned my money in my provisions! I rounded Saroma with an adverse current running. Then chose striking out over the glassy swells in preference to coasting. I met a couple of fishermen far out when I heard fish jumping and approached. I was too late to get in the middle of the school--evidently one of the larger varieties of tuna--but caught a flying fish instead! The hook had fallen from its mouth and I didn't know it so that when I held
it in my hand to remove it the fish Jerked free from my grasp on its slick body and slipped swiftly away into the waters. I later caught another and kept him. I had feared the jumping fish to be riptides, and wasn't sure if the canoes were really canoes or not. The men were evidently Butonese, and they said that they were from Point Nala.
I hadn't reached the big point yet. I kept wondering if it could possibly be BatuPekat, but it wasn't. After passing it I beheld the far distant Batupekat, thin on the southeastern horizon, leading too far out to sea for comfort. I approached a rock separated from the rest of the coast by a spit of sand, and having other rocks lying half submerged in the sea off its tip. Beyond and farther out to sea the water was frighteningly white with the frothy riptides, and I had a hard time trying to see my way through, and felt the urge to turn back. I went out to survey the situation at liesure, then turned back shoreward and saw a rock awash in the seas ahead. I prayed a moment, then turned my bow into the brew and paddled forward with the thought that I wasn't here for any other reason than that of the work of the Lord. There was the roar of crashing seas all around, and the current was fierce. From there on the seas were rough with rather heavy surf along in front of Oki and confused seas that seemed to converge
on the coast behind the island from both sides of it. I skirted the shore seeking the belt of comparative calmness between the riptides and the surf. With poor eyesight it was hard to keep from getting caught in one or the other. I was surprised at my progress even though the wind was contrary beyond Oki, and strong at that. Yet, I made it all the way to the @@@Q@@r harbor just before where the great rocks of Tanjung Batupekat begin. A couple of prahus were anchored there. Today was my best day of paddling so far. I made about 34 nautical miles.

I dragged my canoe far across the tidal flats to the grass, Then I went to look for fresh water at the half dead stream, but I found it to be impure. I returned, built a fire and broiled my flying fish and toasted my suami by placing it on a log at the fire's edge. Then I ate and drank some of my water, which was getting smelly by now. Much against my hopes and desires it rained heavily in the night, and I stood with my plastic tarp over the fire to keep it from getting quenched during the worst of it. I slept
the rest of the d , @ e wet sands with my plastic tarp folded over and under my naked body. The prahus had upped sail and aweighed long before it rained, and I had supposed
the squeek of the pulleys to be the squeek of a bird at first.

Saturday, May 11, 1968, Tanjung Batupekat to a place on the beach between the mouth of the Waetina and Waenalu.
I timed myself in the morning and found that I had only been 50 minutes from Waenono where I had slept on the beach last night. There was already a headwind as I paddled out over the massive swells that were frothing off the treacherous rocks of Batupekat point. I passed a terribly jagged point of rock shaped like the beak of a giant eagle. A sentinel waiting to crush any passing ship in heavy seas. Between it and the next jutting point--only a little way onward--was a deep inlet that went back into a
delightful little cove. A fine spot to take refuge for someone caught there in too - heavy seas. At Waenono Unu was gone and no one could find him for me. Indeed, no one even seemed to show any interest in finding him for me. I was reseived into a chief's house. Then I was taken to the stream to bathe. I had asked for Daud and waskiter
was received at his house and begged--almost commanded--his wife to prepare provisions for me. I hadn't even had any breakfast. She made boiled kasbi and chunks of coconut meat. She fired some for me to eat at the house. I had washed out my clothes and hung them out on the fence to dry in the sunshine. I left after finishing breakfast and thanking them. I had testified to the men while waiting. Daud had been ill, and wasn't too well even yet.
I had no sooner gotten out through the surf but what someone on the shore announced that Unu had arrived, and I heard him yelling "Jo-Jo" and saw his physical forn on the beach. He ordered me back, saying that I couldn't possibly buck the wind, which was still contrary, and was now strong. I shouted back that I was from Namlea and bound for Leksula and that Ama had built my canoe at Airbuaya, and paddled on. I paddled past Waetina and the seas got steadily worse until I could no longer progress because of my effort being devided between bailing and paddling, and I saw that I would have to land, either voluntarily now, or involuntarily later. I chose the voluntarily now alternative, and was faced with the problem of landing a frail canoe on an unfamiliar beach in heavy surf with very limited visibility coupled with a situation where the uniformity of breaking seas all across the seascape made it almost impossible to discern where seas ended and surf commenced, and where treacherous shallows might lurk. I looked for s@se@@e -- smoothness on the beach and saw that there was a comparatively clear looking spot to the left of some driftwood or deadwood. I wanted to try to get farther up the coast so as to make sure of reaching this clear spot but my canoe threatened to founder. I prayed a moment, drew nearer and glanced behind, and when there seemed to be no whitecaps immediately behind me for a moment or so, I paddled with all my might for the clear spot and landed my canoe beautifully on a rocky beach, without shipping even a cupfull of water, it seemed. I leaped out and dragged her up out of reach of the roaring waves. I was very thankful for my safety, for the wind grew even stronger as the afternoon progressed. Ny water had gotten brine in it. I ate and listened to music over my radio, alone in the wilderness. The music made my place beneath the bushes a paradise, and I smiled and rested, enjoying my interlude of peace and comparable security between struggles on the @.
My only worry was the possibility that the seas might become heavy enough to destroy
the canoe and pour brine in on my camp. I went exploring and found that the coast formed
a bay to the west. I was on a spit of sand--evidently pushed up by the sea sometime in the past - with some bushes growing on it. The breakers were on one side and a swanp on the other. The land looked level inland between mountains right and left. I pitched a tent made of my plastic tarp tied to branches and bushes by a piece of manila rope on its
4 corners. I grew worried about the possibility of crocodiles in the swamp, were I to spend the night, and it was becoming evident that I would have to, sure enough!
As I lay back I was depressed by a sharp snapping sound-as of the breaking of large twigs from the direction of the swamp. In the gathering dusk, I knew I would have
to investigate.  Taking my machete I crept back through the bushes and thorns. Then I
sensed radiant heat on the skin of my right hand, and looking down I saw that the ground
in front of me was white. At first I thought that some sort of volcanic activity must
be transpiring. I was rather disturbed at the possibility of being right on top of a future volcanoe! Then it seemed that it might have been some sort of quick lime deposit
and I thrust my machete into the earth and shoveled some of the white substance up
to investigate it. I found it to be nothing more than coarse ash, and was relieved to

decide that someone or something had started a fire in the area which was still smoulderin in the bushes. It was eating through the trunk of a leaning tree,
and the snapping sound was probably caused by this tree, giving way in the wind
but still held up, partly by what remained of its burnt trunk and partly by the other smaller trees that were surrounding it, and seemed to support it with their branches.
All I had to worry about now was getting burned or taking a midnight bath in the surf
at high tide! The wind died down in the evening, and I had a pleasant night beneath
my tent beside my fire with a tropic moon peering through the bows above. I witnessed
the grandeur of tropic sunset in the evening, then the splendor of tropic moonset in the pre-dawn, both over a tropic southern sea from a wild, desolate land.

Sunday, May 12, 1968, Beach near Waenalu to Leksula.
I am generally opposed to work and travel on Sundays, but it was necessary for me
to continue my journey this day. My water was putrid and about gone, and I was out of
food. I lost my short pants getting my canoe into the surf, having left them on
top of my cargo where they could slip off unnoticed. They had my only belt in them.
I paddled straight out for Tanjung Kabat from Tanjung Batutulis rather than to work
my way around the reefs, and passed outside of Batukapal, the steep and jagged rock in
the middle of Nalbesi bay. I encountered severe riptides between the little islet and
the cliffs beyond Nalbesi. Evidently the southwest swell was building up against a west-bound current that was issuing from Nalbesi Bay. Church was already out
when I reached Leksula, but it wasn't lunch time yet. I had paddled all the way this morning without any breakfast. Who should be among the first ones out to greet me
but little Ucu (Yusuf Yom)! He was shouting "Oom Jo-Jo, Oom Jo-Jo!" Then Asta and Tin Gasperz were there. The kids helped me carry my things up, leaving me with something
very light to carry, my lunch and water containers or something like that. They welcomed
me into the parsonage and informed me that both Jon and Oom Chor were gone to Ambon.
Tin evacuated her room leaving me her bed, mosquito net and all. Everyone was pleased
to see me. I spoke on adoption and the love of God from John 3 in the evening service. Oom Chor and Unu Nanuhutu came on a landing boat that arrived from Ambon today.

Monday, May 13, 1968, Leksula.
 I borrowed some of Tin's money and sent a cable to Paul telling
him that I had arrived. It actually happened like this. I had Rp35 with which I went
to the Telegraph office, but my telegram cost Rp45, so I promised to pay the rest later. Tin lent ne the money and they paid it to a man from the telegraph office who lives
nearby. It was late in the evening ere they got the money to him.

Tuesday, May 14, 1968, Leksula.
I monitored the transmission of the telegram that I sent yesterday. In the evening service I spoke on the Sower parable, and did rather well, but both tonight and Sunday night seemed a little lengthy to the people.

Wednesday, May 15, 1968 to Saturday, May 18, 1968, Leksula. I spent the week resting and reading and fishing. The Lord wonderfully provided for us so that we always had enough to eat. I
caught no fish whatsoever at first, but later caught three salmaneti off Kabat Haat.
Then another salmaneti. Then--perhaps this was next week--a salmaneti that I used up
for bait without any success, but when a strong northwest rain squall came shattering
down on me and the fish could no longer tell how poorly I had tied my chicken feather
lures I brought in two small bubaras, one medium sized Fish of a variety I couldn't identify, and, as I came in over the reef on my way home, a medium sized bubara. When
I brought in the two little bubaras I didn't realize that I was pulling in two at the
same time, even though I had purposefully tied three hooks on my line, and after bringing the one aboard i was surprised to look down and see another. I had a feeling of
pride and honor and manliness when I began to bring in fish. '*r0 teenage girls spoke in the C.A. service, !md one of them was Lena Yom,

Sunday, May 19, 1968, Leksula.
I spoke on the new and spiritual worship from Romans 7 in the morning service, and on repentance in the evening. There were several men that stood outside listening through the whole sermon in the evening service, and I was informed that they came from Lai-;ri, and were here working on the"Protestant" school, for which project the local Government officials had been recruiting forced labor from Lian.

Tuesday, May 21, 1968, Leksula. Tin spoke on prayer in the evening service - which was led by Weli-Tama- and w@; dry.

Wednesday, May 22, 1968, Leksula. Eli went fishing with me and we got nothing. Only a lot of snapped line and lost hooks when big stuff kept taking our lures as we trolled along
under the cliffs in the morning shadows. I returned later trolling with the N0,9 hook that they bought me with a rag tied on it. I trolled back and forth without success only to have a sharp toothed fish snap my line far from the hook on the way home across the reef. Jon and Puan had arrived before noon, and I went out to meet them and took Puan back in my canoe. They had my things from Namlea, some camfir, a dozen flashlight batteries, and a letter from Paul, but no money. Paul even suggested that I cable Morris about money from Leksula. So vanished, for the time, my hopes of financial solvency! Jon brought oral greetings from Trask, who had enjoyed fine results in his Seminar. He also brought the news of Luhukai's withdrawel.

Thursday, May 23, 1968, Leksula - Waebohit. Puan, Tin and I left for Waebohit--Tin without any breakfast - after I had thanked Jon and Asta, and given Asta a woman's kain. I carried
one of my tins filled with miscellaneous gear with me, leaving my suitcase for someone else to bring later. We halted at a boulder on the slope beyond the stream. From there
we commanded a view of the isthmus, part of Leksula and of Nalbesi bays. Before we reached there, however, we had met Hajia, the graceful little woman that Bapa Temi had found in isolation in the forest, her right leg covered with sores. Also her face and nose. Bapa Temi had .onein @@l@issed @erand brought healing to her after seeing smoke in the forest and finding her isolation hut. Her nose had had a hole right through it, but she
had been completely healed, though two of her toes had grown together because there had been no more skin between. She used to serve us at Temi's table when I had stayed with him in
Waebohit so long ago. Now she was on her way to the coast to market her goods. The @ar cune 4 mn us as we sat at the boulder. He was carrying durian down to the
t us 39me. It was delicious. @e spoke of Fransien Tanamal, and Tin revealed more secrets. I determined to cable Paul against her coming. Puan's brother, Yakub, caught up with us at a stream. It had rained heavily yesterday and the trails were slick and I had barked up my right shin on a rock when I slipped, and it was in pretty bad shape. Yakub took my tin after awhile, as he was returning empty. I was surprised at
what little attention Puan gave him when she hadn't seen him for so long. He had last parted with her that time at Namlea when she had to have her jaw fixed at the hospital. It took about 4 hours for us to reach Waebohit this time. We had stopped again to rest
on a log, and our halts had been rather long. What a sad difference between now and my
1 @!4 hour @*me trNrs that I used to make when I was 14 or 15 and my eyes were still sharp! At Waebohit Puan cooked for us at Yakub's, where we ate, together with Oom Chor. Yakub's two children were sick with the measles. They have the Waebohit church torn
down and Oom Chor is busy building a new one, and is working
hard to get it up before the rains strike. Dorkas isn't home. We were invited to eat at utis' house in the evening, then went directly over to Yakub's in the traditional style of Buru, where we had another meal right on top of the last one.

Friday, May 24, 1968, Waebohit. I wrote a cable to send to Paul after we had finished breakfast - at Yakub's again. Puan -here on vacation- hasn't had a chance to rest so far. Yakub's baby reached a crisis in the afternoon and they called
Oom Chor and I to pray. I was in bed but got up and went. I brought an Anacin tablet broken in two pieces, but we decided against administering it. The infant's pulse was raging. I annointed its head with eucalyptus oil, and we prayed. Then they said that maybe it was hungry, and I suggested soft-boiling it an egg, which they did with my
help I timing it @:45 minutes on my watch. It came out just right and I added a pinch
of salt from my bottle while Tin held it. She mashed the whole thing up fine and took it in and fed it to the infant in Puan's arms. It ate hungrily and wanted more and more, though it couldn't open its eyes. It also drank a substantial quantity of lemonade, which I said was good for it because of the vitamin "C" content. I was

busy writing my diary all this morning. We had just sat ourselves down for dinner at Otis' house when the hideous lament of a woman for her dead child--Zefania Solissa--rang across the stillness in the night air. Puan left but Otis begged the rest of us to finish our meal, as there was nothing more that any of us could do. After dinner we went home and Otis came and I interviewed him on tape about Temi's early beginnings. Re went to eat, and I was too sleepy to stay awake, so went to bed.

Saturday, May 25, 1968, Waebohit - Lian. Puan's voice was hoarse from crying when she came. Ne had
a breakfast at Chor's that had been cooked all over the place. Puan joined us for lunch at Sakepeq's Yakub's house in the little

thing in her that I loved. Something I sensed Mother
could never understand. Puan's and mine were a different life from theirs. I could feel her warmth. We sat and talked before we left Sakepeq's house. I tried to persuade her to go to Banulalet sometime while she was here. At least for a visit, if not on
her way to North Buru. She went with us down the mountainside to the stream to see us off, taking her laundry to wash at the same time. Then she kept calling after us as we made
our way up the far bank. I was sad, and turned back and called the way Ama does at the place where the slnne began to level off, but she didn't seem to hear. We were to far. : Too far to be audible above the roar of the river.
This morning I said to Tin, and then to Oom Chor, that had I known of Yakub's sin
I should never have prayed for the baby. I also mentioned that I didn't feel it was
right for Puan to stay there, though, I said, I didn't want to say anything more to
her about such matters. I had been over separation with her and Corry enough times in North Buru, and didn't want to boss her about it. She should know, herself. At lunch she said that she said that she wasn't happy at Waebohit any more like it was now, and that she wanted to return shortly to North Buru. She had said that Waebohit used to be
clean, but now was dirty, and the way she said it it sounded for all the world like she was talking about the paths or yards of the village, but I wondered later if she might
not have been implying some spiritual meaning, a thing that I wouldn't normally expect
from a Buruese.
They buried little Zefania this morning in a white caskett. I was late for the
funeral service at the house after listening in vain for a message from Paul. Then I
came stumbling down the path in the blinding sunshine in my shabby clothes, and found Andi
in the middle of delivering an illustrious sermon after having just led the people in
some very typically "Protestant"-style singing. I fear that unwittingly I became a rather	@@oss distraction. I had stood there in the path in the sunshine till I began
to overheat when I saw a place I could stand near one of the houses, probably Otis'.
I approached in my semi-blindness, and to make matters infinitely worse, the children that had been sitting there fled giggling. Nothing could have done more to my embarrasment
than what happened next. One of the women evidently came across from the house where the service was being held, went into the house where I was standing under the eaves, and brought out a chair for me to sit on. I declined in an inward smoulder of frustration, fury, and shame. I went with the people down to the little cemetary and watched them
bury the coffin. If I remenber correctly they asked me to pray. Then Andi and his wife
went on down the trail toward Leksula, while we returned.
We made it to Lian in about 2 hours or less. Tin was my good guide most of the way, while Oom Chor followed behind. I commented about my lot being forever to stumble after ladies through the Buruese jungles. Tin was in good spirits and she walked jauntily ahead, pointing out obstacles saucily with graceful movements of her body. She was dressed in a tight skirt,
young ks
for it in maneuverability.
I tried to su@i@st a sober atmosphere for our entry into the village, and succeeded.
As we drew near the village Tin let us pass and fell behind. They halted us outside the viLlage so that the people could be prepared to receive us, and Tin walked ahead of where
I had seated myself on a log and made strange weeping sounds in the F@@se@ forest ahead.
I had to ask them who it was to be sure that it was her.
Where I waited I spoke to some fellows fresh back from Waekatinolon, and they told
me that they had seen Bapa Temi and informed him of my coming.
@@ passcd up ti@ slpoe through t@e rocky village and stopped @@-$@e-p@ree@@@@ in front of the s@%#@@@@@%// little parsonnage *hich was filled with people who were s@ngin@ "We
Have No Shepherd," a Buruese song sung by a m@n when he returned from Banulalet to t he	Waekabo. il ori@@na@ly wrote: Probably made up by a Waekabo man returnin@ from Ba@ulalet. )	I spoke in ton@ues as I stood there before the house, and the Spirit moved as they sang	their son@ over and over. Then followed a time of the taking of hands and embracing, and	being led into the kouse. Then there was more hands@akini and embracing, and I could feel	the Love of God thfre. )f		Later a boy l@i me to bathe at the 10""ly littl@ stream, the uppfr Nalgesl. u@e
t@c fellous from @eckatinolon cune as I was finishing my bath and @ confirmed to me
"	that they had told Kapa Temi of my coming. and that I intended to @sc@nd from Lian on	Nonday. bath. Then we had dinner at Martin's in the
We had tea at the Kepala Soa's after m@ irit later evening. I t@nught that Lian seemed more wonderful still than @aebohit. The Sp
really moved here today. I told Tin how lucky she was. I spoke on Holiness in the evening service, and there was a %%@s@@ response, It seemed that as I prayed after my sermon I

Sunday, May 26, 1968, Lian.
We had no Sunday school today. Tin led in the morning service, doing it like a "Protestant" by calling out every line at the pause. It was insane! I have seldom
ever heard a group drag their songs out as much as the people did here this morning. Oom
Chor spoke in an intolerable mixture of Buruese and Malay, and I can't remember what he
said as much as I do the thought that this sermon made it more obvious to me that he was
rather impossible without getting some change of thought, say by a couple or three years
in Bible School. By the way, they brought durian to us before church this morning, then once again sometime later in the day. I really enjoyed it. The durian here is fine.
Today was another pleasant day. After the service they went into business and arranged
for a couple of fellows to carry my goods. This they did loudly, and with gusto. Then they made me play my taperecorder to the congregation.
I had been in hopes that they would ask me to speak again today, as after my sermon on holiness last night I had prayed and seen how the river of living waters could mean waters of Holiness, and I wanted to bring out degrees of holiness. Chor led and Tin spoke
in the evening service, and I can't remember what she spoke on. It was dry though, and I was very sleepy. poor Tin has been led astray by dramatics. I went diredtly to bed after service, and was later told that I missed out on some roasted peanuts by falling asleep.
Tin has a certain sharpness of wit and intellect that I enjoy, but she is not deeply rooted spiritually, and that is what I worry about. She understands what I talk about more
than most Indonesians I know, and I have had dood and constructive comversations with her, sometimes in the house, and sometimes out under the vault. She seems also to be happy with Lian, and I hope she will change with age.
27, *onday. Lian - Waehiri.- I had to wait around awhile for my two men, but at last they
came and we wfre leavin@. Oom Chor, Tin, and others from the village walked dowm toward the stream @ith us to see us off. I had shouted my @eneral thanks to the village before leaving, and I had @iven Martin's wife my special thanks for having prepared our provisions of kusu meat and katupats. Sit, Sahenaq and I left Lian at 08@0 this morning. sit spoke some Malay,
but Sahenaq didn't. I thou@ht that Sit was "@et" when I heard bis name for the first time.
As we descend@d toward tAe Naen@ma I slipped at a steep place higher up than the really dangfrous cliffs near @he stream, and Sit was quick to fence me in toBard the bank with his spearshaft rrom his poiition beBind me. We ww@e at @aenama by 0950, and there @ paused to
ta@e a deep drink. Somcwhere along the way i @oticed that there were 3 People with me in@tead of two, and the third turned out to be an oldfr man, and he left us w@e@-we-A@@@e@- after we halted on the mountain. It wa@ 1050 hours then. Somethin@ strange happened there. y
"	companions produced tobacco and started @noking, It came as an unhappy surprise to me that
my companions were sti;1 in this sort of bondage, and I wondered if the@ wer@ t@e exception
or the rule at Lian. @@e older man had spoken some @alay, At 12>@ we stopped for lu@ch at
my behes@, and ate a kat@pat each and some sweet potatoes from a bamboo that they had eeeke@-@@-@- been cookc@ in and from which the charred outer layers had @een peeled. @e
also ate part of the kisu, ?@ men were botk armed with glistening spears and parangs.
@t the halt between Liwn a4d Maenama they had cut me a staff, but @ cast it aside on the descent, whert I found it to be a cumbersome nuisance and an added weig@t. I had become
more	weight conscious @fter @hat I had learned about efficienc@ and speed from Ama and canoes. By th@ way, at @iHn this morning I had let my men choose t@o female saron8s and given
them to Oom Chor to @0 i for them at daebohit for when they should return @ith a letter
from me.
de were hi@@ @Ge- @@ the mountain and far from water at th lunch halt
*@e halted a@ain a@ Hasalahin from 1>@0 t01400, a@dl used theoppertunity to relieve myself in the bushes w@ilf they smoked, and the foul smell 0@ their e*g@@@e@e cicarette
smoke caaedrifting ov@r the air to me, so af['ronting and provokin@ and out ofkeepin@ wit@
the fine pfrfume of the apicy forest. The going had been good tk.s @sr, with only tAe suaerflous warnin8s of my new @uides and my blindness to contend witn, but now, on our descent,
it began to rain after a @ee@*@B warnin@ roat from the forest to our right, and I had to take og@ my rotting shoes t@ @ @pare them and @y feet. My @las@es @ot wet 4nd became less efficient. It was at the worst pl@ce, as @e began the descent over the rock3 stretch to t@e @embolo
Stream. Sharp, loose, @a@ged rocss and stones. Itwasl6OO hours when we arrived, sop,ing
wet. at Naehiri. There we were received into one qf the dirtiest and worst of Buruese forest
+	homes ever, where we f@und th@ people spoiled be disease and star+ation. @hey must have done their utmost for us, F)r t@ey served us with plenty of kusu meat and a good deal of sweet-
"	potatoes and kasbi.I h@@ to @@@ee play my radio and taperecord@r for them at night. The three of us slept crossways nn the uneven bed at the e@d of the house with our feet touard the fire, and it grew cold alon@ toward dawn.
The people at @ae d ri are "Sidang" people, they tell me, but I don't feel tha same

Monday, May 27, 1968, Lian to Waehiri.-
Sahenaq, Sit ( I thought that he was Zet then) and I left Lian at 0830 hours,
and we were at Waenama by 0950. We halted on the mountain where an older man left
us at 1050, and they all had a smoke there. We were high on the mountain when I asked my two bearers to stop for our lunch at 1230 hours. Continuing on we halted at Hasalahin at 1340 and were there till 1400 hours. There I took the oppertunity to eliminate. It rained on our descent to the Tembolo, making our trip every so much harder, and we arrived sopping wet at Waehiri at 1600 hours,

Tuesday, May 28, 1968, Waehiri - Waekatinolon.
We left Wae-hiri sometime between 0815 and 0830, resting on the way up the mountain and eating some from our provisions. We had some unshelled peanuts that
our hostess Koha had given us too. There was a fire still smouldering at a miniature
hut where we halted at 1155 and had our lunch. We were walking downstream along the eastern bank of the Wae-rapat when I looked at my watch and found it was 1545. At IgiO we had crossed the fallen treetrunk over the Wae-sangkabun. We reached Wae-katinolon at 1800 hours. It was raining.

Tuesday, May 28, 1968, Waehiri - Waekatinolon.
We were served no breakfast by the famished people, but ourgenerous hostess--provided a generous helping of roasted unhulled peanuts for our journey. We left after passing out more sulphaschinini, using up a great deal of the supply on the people, and our departure took place sometime between 0815 and 0830 hours. At my urging we halted and ate a bite on the long ascent. I didn't want to upset our regularity and get us to that place where one can never feel satisfied with the food he has but wants to continue eating and eating. They would have
held out to the top, in typically Buruese fashion, thus upsetting our appetite and putting
a much greater strain on our abused bodies. Before this we had parted company with Markus,
who had climbed part of the way with us on his way to his fieldd. The two men with me noted
a place where people had spent the night on the mountain not long before. Then we reached a miniature hut at 1155, where a fire was still smouldering. There we had our lunch,
a little early. The place was on a@ descent. I was still barefoot all day today, as my shoes had gotten soaked and failed to dry out as yet. We were walking downstream along the far
bank of the Rapat at 1@45 hours. The last part of the descent had been particularly rugged, and I was soon confronted by an equally rugged ascent up the sheer rock slope. We skirted the mountain in a downstream direction above the Rapat after we had gained some elevation, then descended to a high, downward sloping treetrunk on which we crossed the Waesangkabun, and I looked at my watch, which read 1510 on the far side where I stopped to wait for my companions, who were slowed down at the treetrunk by their heavy loads, where a false step could have meant death. 11519 may be wrong, but that is the time that I thought I remembered.) We subsequently hallted and my men ate more provisions before we continued a long ascent around to
our left and to Waekatin-olon, where we arrived in the rain at 1600 hours. No, perhaps there was a lull in the rain just then. I don't really remember. At both Waehiri and here my companions had behaved themselves in typically Buruese fashion, sneaking very œquietly into
the settlement. We entered a house where I was given a bed to use. A muchbetterplace than
we had last night. There were big, healthy-looking swine roaming here. None of the menfolk were home, though. I bathed and washed out some of my clothes in the rain at the stream.
There are good streams on both sides of this settlement on the slopes, but no view,
and it is hemmed in among the ridges. I learned that Bapa Temi had been here the
week before, and that :;eswned a swine or two in the village.I had asked my men to keep
the wonders of my taperecorder a secret here, and so I saved batteries by not having to
play it here tonight. I administered 2 malaria pills apiece to them, and asked them to
keep that a secret too, so that in the future I would only be required to adninister them in
the most desparate cases.
The women served us a good meal of papeda, kasbi, hotong, etc., after my men had explained to them how hungry I was, and how I couldn't do without food!

Wednesday, May 29, 1968, Waekatinolon - Banulalet.  It was raining and my men were balking. After
some kasbi for breakfast we left at 0900,anyhow. I had urged my men to go, telling them that
it wasn't far, and they could get plenty of rest at the Waesangkabun house. As it turned out, it was a miserably lo@'dra up the rocky bed of the Waesangkabun to the plantation house,
and midway we were faint with hunger, and Sit was complaining bitterly about the treachery of the Waekatin-olon women, who made us no lunch,
and told us that it was just a little way. We probably arrived at the huts sometime early in the afternoon. There we found several handsome new huts, but not a soul was about. At the
new, or downstream end of the settlement we found a clothesline in the bare dirt yard. There were what appeared to bee some pinang trees, and here and there a few young coconut trees. As @ewa ;gh ,@@œ,@ , ud days un light I told my two companions that I had heard something @m In@ from us.-It sounded to me like a biped of some sort or other. My companions were busied themselves exploring the contents of the huts. Then I heard a more distinctly human
sound from the direction of the old huts, and this time they told me that there was a human there. When I asked them, they told me that it was a man. He came and took our hands, and after I guessed wrongly that he was from Asukedawaen I asked him his name, and he told me
that he was the owner of the house that I had stayed in that time that I had been down with malaria. I said "Kupe," amd he acknowledged me to be right. He was tall for a Buruese, and
had an impressive gentleness and grace about his manner, and a handsome--though unshaven--face. I mean that he didn't have a real beard, and yet he wasn't clean shaven. He invited us up
into his lath-floored house, and blessed us with beautiful, ripe bananas. He told us that

he was returning to Banulalet later in the day, and I told him that I wanted to go too.
He left for the kebun with a basket, and would be gone for some time before he returned on his way to Banulalet. My men had asked Kupe if they might fry up some kasbi pulp that they had found in one of the huts before Kupe came. Kupe had told them to go ahead. After Kupe left,

@	@ay 19@9. @9 conti@ued.-

@h@@ had even looked a little attractive, but the sarong and kabaya outfit spoiled all that. Indeed, it would be hard to imagine anything more unattractive than the traditional Moluccan woman's dress.
Joni--the elder fron Grialale--had arrived. He was still suffering from the poisoning
he had gotten that time he drank from a bottle that had something else he didn't know about in it' perhaps battery acid or œpnfteing, besides pure water.
I had to play ny ru i9 for all of t@em, oF c.urse. They @@nte@ the tapfrec9rder too, but I
-	told th@m that I souldn ' play that anypl@ce exce?t Banulalet, fea@@in@ that if I played it
here it mi@ht become a r@@son fQr them to want to hinder me from ascending tod?@. @t also @ave them an incentive, I tho@@ht, tr @et $@ to Banulalet as soon as possible so that they could
hear thi@ new thing. I said t@@t I wouldn't even play it here if Temi came here. This I did to lead them away fro@ the @dea of kee?ing me at @aesanc@abun, which my men were set on doing
for some Satanic reas@n i@ Sit's dark soul, i@ not @lso in Sahenang's, it was a ty@ically
stu@id Buruese thi9i to dq. Yet t@ey think t@at they are alwa@s wiser. I w@nt out and sat
in the yald and prayed, trying to escape the dark influence of those in the het, out beseeching God to provide a way through for me to Banulalet, and not have to a@en@ anot@er ni@st on the
way after s@ch a miserable journe@, and with my tortured feet to have to make yet anot er day's journey. @ODe was w@nin@ l@th the sun, for @t was late, but someone spQke to me and I was irritated, but loo@ed uo and saw Kupe. I expressed my heart'@ desire once again, sup@licatorily, thfn rush;d to dress and to @et my thin@s in order. I took my tape reco@der, which @uoe
carried, But forget to b@.n@ a piece of plastic to cover it wit@, so @@pe had to @0 back f@r
a piece after we were we@@ on our way. I didn't wait for him but kept on on my own, slowly,
and was approachini t@e ciiffs near tSe @@ little cascade when he caught up with me again.
Our ascent took us about @T hours. As we approached the ridge I heard the roar of t;e wind in
the trees above, and wondered if it were r@in at first, it had been so sliet below. The jungle floor chan@ed once more i@to a @eep car@@t of leaf-mold, the blanket of the ridges. All was in
'	deep silencebut for t@e waxing orwaningofthc wind."de pa@sed amomcnt near Banulalet, and
I rea@ied myes@F tapere@)rder. NS heald the voices from above. @hen I s@ithhed 0@ my recorder
as we ascended up past @upe's hut, and on to Temi's. I first sa@ @ura, standin@ at the table
as I entered t@e do9rway @nto t@e dark room. The@ @emi addressed me from the shadows. I@nediately afterl had finished 5*"e(@ingTemi and@@-@I wentback outsidea@ain to watch theview. Bapa Temi's hi@h church iœ f@ @in@ a@irt, and not safe an@@ore. Banul2let is beautiful, but dosn't have as sofctacul2ror cpi@andin@ a view as othtr@I have enjoyed. Itiœmore like one w@ve-top on a @ast sea of mountains tk@i an all com@andin@ view. Namle@ is visible in good weather,
-	and wi h a tele@cope tna@ part @ould be interestin@, @ith the sea and Eanip@ in @' @ackground. All other coasts of Buru @re hidden by other ranges.
ae were served sell @y @ura i: tne @venins, an@ as I write now, @lter, I realizf wSat aprivila@e this firstd@-@r @0 w@sbecausf of the absence of the thron@@. w'e talkei ab9utmany thin@s in @oe@ spirits, I'I@ in the li@@t qf the Holy ss@rit. @y sweater Mas a welcome @@rment kere, and I was thankS@.

Thursday, May 30, 1968, Banulalet. BapaTemi sent word to Waesangkabun by the women for my two bearers
to come up to us. They had been afraid because of their sins, and on the trail--on our second
day, at the miniature hut--I had asked them how, if they were afraid to ascend to Banulalet--a worldly place--because of their sins, were they going to ascend to heaven. I said that there are only two ways a man ;@@ so, and that the 9@ fr is to @ell.
I needed my things @@dls, but I had almost given up when we heard a wail from the direction of the forest where the trail comes up from below. Slowly, slowly, our two approached, weeping-- @@-@e@e@-@@@-w@e--and wailin5-4@t least Sit was-- with @@imal s@e*sk shouts, I sat on the dego2 to the south side of the entrance door with my taperecorder, while Temi and Mura sat enthroned-- w=tA-@@- facinœ the same entrance door with their backs to the far door--on the only two chairs in the house, waiting. Sit was the first to come staggering in at the entrance door, and they entered with deafeningœ screams, and knelt, Sit before Temi and Sahenang before Mura, each
taking a leg or foot of the one that he knelt before to embrace. Temi was sniffling by this time. He spoke to them and prayed with them. Then they got up and shook hands with the rest of us. I had been taping the proceedings.
When I thought that it was safe, I œquietly unpacked my suitcase, which had been left on
the dego2 near me. @e observed silence during the rest of that day, speaking to one another in hoarse whispers. I pl@ye my tape off for Temi. @@-@ad-bes@- except for the ond on t@s recorder, all my tapes had been left at Waesangkabun, and th@@ @ad only arrived when th@n two men brought Sthem in my trlings.

@1. ?riday, @anulalet.-	liEtened to my radio, playfd and transcribe@ tapes, etc., throu@h

	@@@19M.
1. Banulalet. @aturd@v.- I @eti4y w@tch @arly to m@@e sure tkœtikou@dn'tmi@s th@ messa@e
from 'aul. 3 talked and ial@ed wi@k Temi at t@f brea@œast tab@e, gl@ncin@ at my watch @rom
time t@ time. Then I @@@ shocked to fin@ t)@t my w@tc@ h@d sto@ped when it wa@ almost time,
2@@ I had failfd to list;@ for Iqy ness@@e. it @ecms n@@ th%t I @ay h@ve been con@u@e@ a4d
@isEed my 9??ertunity, f:r it seeMei t@@t I kfard "D9bo" w@en I listened, an@ may have thou@;t 090O instead of 3933 hr=rF. At ans @ite I @)@@ed, @n@ I later foun@ ttst I h2d missed t@ree ness@@es that mornin@, E'd one of t@ese mi@ht have bee@ for me. I li@tened @* each 0@ t@f remainin@ time@ but ha@ 0 luck. @11 I le@rne@ was t@2t l@@din@ craft @0.10 was leavin@ for Namlea tomorroF. I eve@ !i3tene@ t@ t@e Lei@s@la bro@dcast @ftcr tSe last @amle2 one, but evsn O:eni @ot nqnews, I t@,;@ @e@ttob@the, de@cendingdown alon@thclittle traill had seen
the people usinL to =0 @fter vate.. @ had eonr once alrfadv, after the last "2mlea broadcast,
when I had been forced @ic@ @v rain after relieving my@el@ i@ the bushes, @eturnin@, I had
used th@ time to li@ten to tAe ieksula broa@cast. Now, a@ I made my way downward, I was @istressed distre@sed to hear t@e F@und of footste@@ be@ind me, and looki@@ back up the hill I saw a
man in short pants comin@ after m@. @e was impossibly u@l@. I felt I needed solitude so badl@
just thfn, @ut @e said @hat B@pa @emi had sent him t; look after me, @0 there wa@ not@in@ for
it but to acceFt. @e @ould @ave led me far beyond th@ tricklin, lit@le e@@e@ bamboo pipe
stream t@ thc @@@@@ cre@@ dmjn an ov@r@rohm trail, @ut I balked. We-@e@@@@e@-@@rkhe-bea@@@-@@th	@@$-$esee@@e$-@9-@he-@@.*e@@@@e-@@@@@@-@p@pe@ w@@e@-w@s - - - ---*e had comf so far already, an@
the weatRer @as wet. Arrivin bad; at the beaten path--at least more beaten than t@e oth@r one-- we descended to the li!tle stre@m @it@ t@e bamboo tricklin@ water, and t@f man took an emoty
bam @0 and held it to t@c @@ter, Ne did@'t know that it was crack@d, and w@ited the lQngest
ti@c. Ee kept rapFin@ it to test it. I finally @aid "enou@h!" and he stood it up and water
came streamin@ out thrQu3h thc crack. It now bec8@e obvious wh@ this particul@r bamboo had been left here. In a situation likr @@is t@e mentalit@ oi the @+lrue@e @howed itself. @omeone arrivin@ here with @@ a bamboo or bu@boos t@ be fillfd would have to wait and wait for it to be iilled.
'	'	Yet, to cut one or two e@tra bw@boos aœd le@ve tkem @cre to be filled while one was gone so
t@at one could ta@@ tien and re@@ace t@ew @it@ S@@@-e@e@-w@e@-e@- empt@ ones wken one returned
was to@ much to a@k, @0@, htre s@s t!@ s crac@ed on@, and no oth@r water ves@el in si glt, @nd
ttis miser@bl@ little tricrle, and we had been w@itin@ all this tim@! @ortunately t@@ crack
had bcen f@cis, up@ard, sJ @@œt tile;e sas some water in t@e bamboo. This my man D*ured ov@r m@ body iro@ iA @2 @i@e S@r me as I s@uatted naked, and so it was that I @ot my b@th,
@e@e@@ de retu@@cQ, n%@'in@ v?rv poorpro@ress up the slippery slop@ aith ny foul eyes.
It wa3 a @ruellin@ ex?eri@@ce @Qr @f, @a@in@ thi. man observ@ng all my errors @rom behind Me, and shouti@@ excitedly atme @keneveri made-or @ar about to make--anot's@r. @u@N@s even
more raspin@ npon my b@ @@w @k@;@@#$@@% psy@@oFathic ir@ards was to have @im @0 strai@@t tc the kitchen assoon aswe arrivtd and tell the@@@@ingwonenall abDu@how hehai had to@Qur
-	@ @ watfr over me, how r@ry slowl@ 1 @ad wal@ed, etc. I had so wished I cculd have @@ne witho@t one m@re of t@ese experi@@ces, @@t m@ eye@ c@aine@ @@. I had to accept the man @emi had se@t
me unless @ wanted tu sa @ @ Fce@e, 2hich would @dve been counted a sin at @anulalet. @e would n@ver sAe@@$ it me once j wa@ bekind me. Ee @ould watc@ my everv move li@e a hawk. Scrutinize
my naked body, and prob@;,L@ publicize the most intunatedetail@ ofmy aRatomy wh@reverhe
went thereafter. It was ;ike eatin@ @ud to me. Ccld water 0@ one's callinœ. if I were to displa@ any normal reactions the w3uld take me to be insane. dh@t to do?
dhen : reœc@ed tkf !Juse i was infowned by a child tSat Solissa and his wiie were herc,
I felt sick. @hey were eridentl$ at one @f the other houses i just stayed home. Anei grfete@
mf from near the @ dQor, @ j@st @aid, "Hello @ndi." ISs Mi@e didn't say a tk-nd when s@e
came.
1 s?o@e to @emi lat@@, when I came outside to look toward Namlea, ard he t9ok we by
surprise wit@ the wcrd@, "@bout your Rak@@d with Puan," but t@en he went on to say that @h@
wquld be comin@ in twm di@Js with Unang-@ama. @ h@d thou@ht that he was talkin@ ab9ut somethin@ very different, and oerh;@ihemeant tQ try me thatway, butl had Faid to him th@tl would
1i$e @uan and Corry tc sce Banulalet, an@ all qur Feoplc who came to @Qrk for the Lord in Ruru.
"e had thanked @e wit@ tln's in his eyes. @ius was the maksud that @e was talki@@ about now.
1 fearthat: muœt have @'!ushed scm@, as; noticed a chan@ein my heart-beat.The f@ctth2@ d@e was comin. with t@at rep;?ibatc broth@r of ?emi's.@@nang-@ama, who h@l @old his @@;@@ter to
Demi @0 recentl@-- ! %j@ when i thou@lt ati@ut it, was ab@@t all I cculd t$re. I fel@ sick.
"	Almos@like that tjmel @@B@@e$-@e-@*@-@@@A@@@*@3@- @atdo@m in my rice Faddy ank wanted t@
die at Airbuaya. I later t@@u@ht t@at I must be comin@ down @i@@ t@@ fluc.
i" @und@y. @anulalet.- @ini @s@e@ m; to s9eak t@is $or@i@c, b@t he also 3ictated what 1 w@@
to spe@@abo@t. @uraone@@ @rs service, and @ortcale@ the sin@in@, and I had tobearit. I
sat hunche@ @@er @@@ ref ;@@ to @in@. @cmi counsel@ed th@ oeoFle, then @@rned t@e service over
to me. I thou@@t m@"sesv1"w2@lon:. and Inter fo@n@ th@tnv w@tch h@@ @t@nnp@V @r@hohlw w4;1@

	@@@I@M.

in the second dict@tion @@ my monstrou@ tarE@ed sermon. I mu@t have been mad! I felt si@@. I had kad t@@ annointin@@hen @'@ a@'@ed we tc pray, thou@h. I was silent
I @a@ silent thrcl 1 most of t@e day. I had turned on devivaltimc before @h@ se@viee,
and I l@stened with my @@?)hQne t@ the *Calv@r@ Church Hour" in t@e a@teMloon, nld heard a
@ood me@s4@e. It was rœ:ny to@ay, ani it got pretty cold. I was sick at heart, like I was rottin@ out in$ide. I @: In't @now wi@t to do. I was fQrced to eat Mit@ aolisa and his wife or
be nl@e to Temi, I remei@ered @hat @esus ate with Judas at his l2st supper before the cross, and tuen I felt that I @a@ a basis to be silent and @) through with this. Temi's banter set
like lead in mg now, t@@li@h, and I h@ted to lau@A or smile. Solisa's wife wo@ld always serve me, and@ had to sa@ "terim@kanih9I cou@dn'tsee the food, it was so dark, evend-lrin@thed@;, with t@e r@ins. @emi wanted to kabata to the dana people @@-@@s@ on my tapereco@@er at last.
ue s@id, "Toni@ht." At @irFt he had come and s@id th be ready at any time. He is a virile 2@d ener@etic man, likf all men who become great @enerally are. I w@tched the settin@ 0@ the nln over @he +estern @ountain@ alone in the @trong wind that came u@ and blew th@ rain away in
t@e later afternocn. There were misty clouds hangin@ below the pe@ks. The sunset @as beautiful over the @ea oi mist @@@ mountainE in the wind. @olisa'@ wife had to @et in on the kabata to sin@ 2nd p2rt with @@@ma @ura. 1 felt sick all over again. ae ate, and I went to bsd. @hen Temi @tarted hummin@ œnd @)t inspired, and kabata-ed to Andi Solisa and his wife. @hen followed aser@i@n of seriousadvice. I @otpart of'the wholethin@on tapc, then went to sleep after pl@ying my ra@io some.

@" @onday. oanul@let - @be@an@@abun.- It was so cold last night that I covered m@self again
with my plastic tarp. a"e had @0 evening s@rvice last ni@ht. It rained eerly this norning. Wy nerves Nere strained to the utmost @itk t@e continuous b@nter witk Dortea @olis@, etc., and
a@ter t@ey told @c ta ?@c@ m@ t@in@s, @@d I cqul@ no longer write, and we @@d e@ten, and I had tried to talk to Te@@i @@@@t @ow I was so unh@pp3 about Puan'@ st@@in@ with Jak@b and now
' comi@@ @ere @ith Unan@-tfn ,, and @ortea h@d comc and sat her nosy self down to listen, I
felt that I A@i @@ @@t @way to ueditate, and @ray, and cast it all upon God. I @at un3er
the eaves @or awtile. @@cn m@di it to t@r little kut to t@e south Ehere nein@an sefn@ cver to st@y, and wherel notice'@e@@i ofte@ @ocœ to @et away. "ihenl sa@ @ hut furt@erdo@n with@@rt
of t@e roQ@ =OEC. ItWOl @ bc@i@@erinsi@e. Justwhatl needed@@ven farther away.@'p@@M@e-@
@- mad a-@@-@@e@-e--@@d-F@@@d- @@a@ -@ -@@@@d-s@ a@d- s@ e@= g@@-@p-*@-@t-@ee s@se-*@-@@d--
I made it tAere and foun@ t@klt I couldn't st@nd @trai@ht up inside it because it ha@ a;ceili@@.
I was unfgrtunate to @et a do@ upset again, w d it raised a terrible roN. I sat @@wn on a
"	deserted deg@2 and @rayv@ anyho@. -rhen I knelt and told theLord all aboutmv@urdens, and wept. After I had seated myse@S 9n tne de@o@ a@ain aolissa called to me from behind the wall of t@e
hut and said that it wa@ time to @0. ;t w2s such a ty@ical thin@ of him t3 do, to call from
"		behind the Kall insteq@ i@ the @oor, I felt. It @adn't stopped rainin@, but we w@re leavin@	anyway. @emi ha@ found i@ iithin hi@ wisdom to have Solisa be my guide down to the @a@sangkabun.		Solissa took the lead, @:ule Uortea walked behind me, with Max, I ttink. It was sometime before		12:@@ when we lef@, @he desccnt took us ] hqurs or more, and I was Filen@ as we went, tryin@
not to break under the :train,
Solisadid a @oo@@:,b o5leadin@, g9in@ ahead with hi@ ukulele, w@@ch almQst @lways
told me where he was. Ai @ae@@n@kabun I went w2ndering alone to the stream, whe@; I relieve$ m myself and--a@I @oundr,@ later--lost my clear-len@ed @lasses. @@en I returned and went into Kupe's more ai@@ hut t@ w;st on t@e de@o2 I fnln@ t@rn mi@@in@, and l@ter ded@cf@ @n@ t@2t
wa@ @@at must have been Fh@t I felt drop from ny soc@et at t@e stream xkj.le . was s@@atting
on a couple of st@ne@, @ wcnk baci and searched but I @ad @rown too we@@y h@th hun@er 2n@ had
to ret@rn tJ @upe's e@@tr hut and lie on i@is be@ some more. Then, after Eome time, @ wa@ @oin@
t* thf streaw to w@sh @u- feet w@en I heard Andi 3olisa's voice, and h@ @as c@lli@. me t@ eat	k2@bi. I did, @@d @id. I was @0 hungry,ti-' I wa@ thejone t@at prayed over t@e me@l, 2skin@ the		Lord to @tren@t@e@ us @it@ it so tiA@t @e coul@ Mork @or him. After thc me@l I to@r my shoer
an@ Nenton to tSe @tre@@, nd Eentlookin@ for;@y @@asses 2@ain. @heide@@F @lrnin@Sack
@rew @tron@er 2 @ stronœcr in my mind, s@@ I wa@ wei@hin@ t@e an@;es. T couldn't fin@ @@ @la@ses, b@t @eci@ed t@ kee@ @@@@ a secret @ftir my b@@ e@peri@nces tellin@ thin@s l@re th@t to U@e
natives. @hev would onlr luu@k an@ hurt my @lready sensitive reflinb@ @ore, qr say t@at jt
@@s t@e han@ of eod tursjng ba@r t@@s unœ.t one. If I really decide@ to turn bac@, t@at is.
"	@-Fee@-ee %sl tSo@@ht on the@e t@in@sl could $een to visualize myself@addlin@ wcstwar@ in thebri@@t Eunsl:nfi mt aaE abse@t @ere, Paddlin@ westward @verthe bLle w2ters @Oom@ri
Airb@aj%.
I feel so sick ati-@rt @.t:: %1e Bur@es@, 2nd t@erc is t@@@t feelin@ th@t they don'tw@nt ne. r@ eye@ are so bad, and Srowin@ ste@dil@ wqrse, and now m@ glas@es are @o@e. @orry may seriously nee@ !@y hela at @@irbuajr ri@tt now. Iti is the rainy se@son in the mountains. @y s@oes are
worn out. It'@ nostl@ e :@ bl2c@ spiritual cloud I see ahead at @ana. The sin, and the impossible tas@ of buckj œ then @11 to @et rid of it. I just feel sick, sick, sick.

Monday, June 4, 1968. Banulalet- WaeSangkabun.
It rained like cats and dogs today, and I grew fed up with being cooped up with the Solissa
crowd at Bapa Temi's Banulalet house so that I couldn't bear to take any more of it. They had told me to p@ck and I ad Facked and th@n we had just waited around a;d th@re was that light
spirit that I can't toler@ w about the place. Indeed, from the@ arrival of the Solissas I had
felt soul-sick some way. Banulalet was different. PerhaFs a number of t@ing@ were g@ttin@ on my
nerves. @ostly the probl@@ of always bei@g watched, i@ld p@ople always wanting to listen to my
radio, etc I had to @et ,@@a@ to @ray. I tri@d sittin@ out under the eaves bu t it was wet there.
Therewas no viewin the @on.I madeit across to the house whereli;ad seen Bap@@emi and
Mama @ura @0 to prepare t kabata. Neingan was st@yins t@ere. On around in back I found just
@@ t@@e 0@ pl@ce I neede . A houni œith half th@ roof @one and on thc edge of the hilltop

clearin@. A dos Saw me th l@h and started up a t@rribl@ racket and wouldn't stop. I was at nerve's 1

end. @emi had desi@nated Idi to lead me. I prayed and wept before the @ord for some time, and
gained somt strength back hen Andi arrived and called from behind the wall for me to come.
Alw@ys sneak@, Andi.I fol @ed him and Dortea came aftcr down thf mountain. He played his
ukulele all the way and i was easy for me to follow the sound. I re@@ined silent, mostl@.
At aeSangkabun I went to he stream and relieved mys@lf and felt something fall from my pocket.
I checked and thou@ht tha ever thin@ was present, but later found out that it was my celar
pair of gla@ses. I went b @ and searched m1d s4arched in vain. The stre@m was swift. It was @
about this time that I decided that I couldn't go on. I had been made enough of a laughingstock
t@ce and an exhibition before the people and was at nerve's end. The chances of anyone finding
; slim, I thought, so I never let a soul know that I had lost then.	1

my glasses in a search we They would probably even Bapa Temi and others arri me, I told him I no long@
thought that losing my glasses was an act of faai against me, etc. ye
d later, and in the evening when he came !uld sat on the dego2, beside
felt that the Spirit would have me go on. I was to haw; gone on to

Grialale th@ next day. L@@ ng had already asked, He was the one that brought my things down from Banulalet, d h@ wa the one that would be bringing my things on. Bapa Temi called Mama Mura and spoke to her about my change of plans. She wasn't ready to believe me, it seemed. Both

sheandT@mihad@@aBATAed Lord would change my mind Temi say that the Devil w

0 th@ people at l@uL@. Bapa temi told the people to pray that the
and I heard them praying in one of the other houses. I also overheard ; clever. I could see that were I to go to Rana at this time Andi and

wife would be a constant thorn in the flesh, and try to monopolize. She had already horned her Way in on Mura's kabata, * 3 i@ alon@. A130, It was now the rainy season, it turned out. Temi Said that the rains would last another couple of months;

Tuesday, June 5, 1968, Waesangkabun.- Nothing was ready this morning. It was one of those typical, disgusting Buruese experiences where you try to get them @qiin@ in due time from the night before and they simply balk because they have never done anything in just one day and don't intend to start Just because you say you have work to do and don't want to waste time. Nothing was coo@ea. Mura was still hoping that I would change my mind. By the time things were ready the sun was
high, and we couldn't have reached Waehiri, and I had no intention of spending another night uselessly at WaekatinOlon, as they were br@@lt enough to suggest. I had to give in and spend another day. We could just as well have been @one. Bapa Temi had gotten me two porters last night,
?	and if we had had provisions we could have been off. The day dragged on. I had Temi tape a message to Budin, and he was so long that the tape ran out on him. Either today or yesterday

lolong had asked for a b be carrying them on, and to come and ask. What to andthin@.in@ofraturiom Paddling to Airbuaya in have a level place anywh It was so steep that I among the knotted roots in that type 0 dedicate paddy at Selmai. @his wa from the jun@@e. In Solissa's weren't t@@re @is kitchen, I mean . We

of soap @ince @e had carried my things to WaeSangKabun and wouldn't
had given it to him. I had already intended to do so, but he had had 0 with these Buruese? In the spirit yesterday as I was in the stream I had had a strong burden for Corry, and seemed to visualize myself
canoe in the sunshine. I loathed the jungle. The slopes that never e. This afternoon I went up the Banulalet trail a little way alone.
to go a long way before I could be out of sight of the houses. I sat d read and wept and prayed, and felt deep discouragement. I wasn't mood that I had had that time when I sat and begged to die in my more of an irresistable urge to return and get away from it all, out he evening Temi and others came and sat on the dego2 beside me and Andi and wife). Temi and I had eaten kusu and papeda at EnEe's house@. an@ kabatas. Mama Mura and the others. They sang @@e@i praising my
exploits, and I begged them not to praise me, and said for them just to praise the Lord. @hen I made an attempt at the ki ata and the atmosphere was instantly changed from that @6 weeping to that of morning, I KABATAed about the fat Lis of Wamamboli, etc. We were up late talking, and there was a different spirit in the air with Solissa and his wife gone somewhere.

/		St. @upe
19@@, Waesangkabun to WaeHiri,- It wasn't @xactly early @ @ @ w@ 1@
Wednesday, June ,		""--led me through the sparkling clear

and Tanda, both NalBesiTaun, were my porters. E@se - - -
waters of the Sangkabun as far as where the trail leaves the stream. Then returned. Kupe,
a rather tall man for a Buruese, and well formed, took the lead, and Tanda followed. Kupe is	4
middle ed and handsomely bewhiskered, and Tanda is a tough little lad with a pot belly but
R@ ."@@@@ @@Rk@'@@@@@cœ@, @i@ @@@@ @@r@@ja@rta@h $@,ab8S@ U @ ,b@@@ @a@@aQfK@sadBQ @i@@@t@vand
only

not a bad looking face. This pair turned out to be about the best pair of guides that I had ever had.  Kupe can hardly speak a word of Malay and the same holds true for Tanda. Kupe is silent, and only gives a warning when there is real danger. I think what wears me out and slows me down more than the sheer ruggedness of the trek is the constant nagging of an unwise guide giving unnecessary warnings till you don't know when there is really something important. We cut across from the Waesangkabun up over a ridge that connects to Banulalet, and thence down
 to the Rapat, where we had our lunch and where I forgot my hanky on a boulder where I had spread it to dry. We bathed at the and put up at the same house I had slept at on
the way to Banulalet for the night. The old grandma I had given the pills for was still sick
iie. I stretched out on the bench beside the table out under the sky. It was made of two poles lashed together. As I thus rested I heard someone say "Gamdo", and it sounded like "how" instead of "which way" a usau! rere in the interior. Then I didn't hear anything more that sounded foreign, so I thought that it must just be some women returning from the fields. Then, lo and behold, who should be very nearby and say, "Selamat Sore Bu Defen"? Puan Solisa. I jumped up and greeted her, and we sat and talked at the table for a long time. She had provisions with her too, and Tanda and Bapa Temi's youngest brother Gideon, who had come with her, got to work cooking for us. There were three in her party. The other was Yakub, I believe, another of Temi's brothers. She had a letter and money for me from Paul. He said that he was
going to Java, and lent me Rp7,500. I had a longingœe@ to be with Puan, and she seemed to want to stay with me, but she was tired, and begged me to pray for her. She was on her way to Banulalet. I was very thankful that Unang-Tama wasn't with her but it was Yakub, instead. I hadn't heard if Yakub were also into some sort of sin. She said that she knew nothing of Unang-Tama's planning to visit Banulalet, and had not planned to come with him at all. I hope that is the truth of the matter. It was another cold night at WaeHiri. Puan slept inside.

Wednesday, June 6, 1968.

Thursday, June 7, 1968. Waehiri - WaeBohit.
The kids were up early this norning and cooked up some provisions for our day's journey. We walked back together the first part of the way. Puan had again asked me to remember to pray for her this morning. It was sad or hard or something to have to part with Puan, and we wanted to stick together. Down at the WaeTina I yodeled back up the slope, but they were probably over the ridge by then. We halted and ate before the food had even had time to get cold. This was at my behest. The trail was better over the ridge between Tembolo (?) and Waenama and we made better time today. At the WaeNama it began to rain, and for awhile it rained in earnest, so that we had to stop on the ascent to make sure that our things weren't getting wet. It was still only mid-afternoon when we reached W@@ Lian, and there we @@ entered the empty pastorate and ate our provisions and talked with Zacheus and others. Everyone in Lian was busy catching a pig that kept coming from WaeBohit to raid the crops, so I couldn't
find anyone to haul my loads on to WaeBohit that day. My two men had said that they weren't going on as they were too tired. but when they saw that I couldn't find anyone they shouldered their packs again and went on with me. We halted between the rivers in the late afternoon and I told Kupe and Tanda how I loved then and appreciated them, and this drew our tears. Kupe said not to make further arrangements for porting my loads from WaeBohit until I heard from him, as perhaps they would go on with me tomorrow. We stopped at the house of the old man by the stream, and Kupe took me to bathe at a lovely spot where the waters went thundering over the rocks and boulders. I left my tattered socks on a boulder there. I had worn nothing but them since leaving my shoes at waeTina. Yesterday I had surprisedKupe and Tandaat how swiftly I could slide down the swift places on the soles of my shoes. We went on up the last stretch to the main part of the village, and right on up to Oom Chor's empty house. Zacheus had told us to go right on in, so we did. My Nalbesi-taun friends found a Muka-besi to stay with and went there. Mama Ruth, Dortea's mother andBapa Temi's sister in law, came and prepared a meal for me in the evening, and did I ever eat, and feel the love of the saints, and the hospitality. I liked Mama Ruth, though I don't like Dortea a bit. Mama Ruth is just a plain, unpretentious, simple soul. I had plenty of pork from @@ Bapa Temi's brother's house. In the a afternoon when I had just arrived Puan's ungodly brother Yakub, and Andi's ungodly father Mathias had both come and sat to talk with me. Yakub sat at my ri@ht. Mathias across from me.

We were in the breezeway between the house and the kitchen. I was too blind to know who I was talking with at first, and so had been very friendly with th@m. I felt very uncomfortable as

my suspicion @rew into knowled@e and reco6.qition. There is no more separation whatsoeverin Waebohit, it seem@. I slept on the bed that I had used t@at time I had arrived @eme in aft@ my three week's fever at Banulalet and met Willis. The two women left me alone in the big
house.

Namlea when we had entered the village. I couldn't for the life of ne think who she was, and told her I couldn't. Then the others or an other from the house cried, "She lies, she lies!"
I can't say that she wasn't cute. On through the village and up to @@ pastorate. Cu wasn't there, but Oce Yamarua, Billy, and @*@e@-A@- Esther had arrived from Anbon. There was
a service scheduled for the evening and Esther was to speak, but they asked me to. I declined, saying that I was tired and couldn't do a sermon justice, and furthermore the people wanted to hear the new stars. They had served Kupe and Tanda and I with hot tea and peanuts, and then we had all had dinner together. I had already paid Kupe and Tanda of in the forest, w@@so they returned in the afternoon to shop and go on to Waebohit. I was surprised at how well Esther did in the evening service. Her voice is very small, but her Indonesian is the best of them all, it would seem, and her thoudhts were continuous and made sense. She spoke from Luke 19, about Zacheus, with the key verse stating that Jesus came to seek and to save those who are lost. There was a very large crowd outside, aHd the@ wer@ @o@derfully q@iet. They $tve me my old bed to slee@ in.
8. Saturday. .eksula.- I had bou@@t @ear yestfrday with money 0@ my own and went out fishin today, but was weary, and the swells that @ad come up made me seasick and I hœd to Dull m@ canoe u@ on the sa1d behind @abat Uat iEland and rest. I went home empt3, when I was in hopes ofbrinti"in@ in whateverit wad that had been chewine my lines u@ before I got ahold oF the wire I bou@ht yestsrda@. All t@e women of the c@irch wer@ servin@ @ogether today, and everyone was eatin@ atOmPeni'sho@se. I waslater-or the middaymeal and so @ottogeatwith t@e bretueren of the church, for whick I @as delidlted, and I had x wonderful conversation about the thin@s of God wit@ the belove* o@d bretheren @:0 remembered all the @Te@t thines that God had donc since long $;0. ae talk@d of Yom, wlon@ ot@er tl:n@s. @he food was, of course, fine. In the eveMin@ service Uil!@ spoke about somet @ @; or other.
9. S\ulday. Leksula.- In thf morni@@ service there was a mo@in@ of the Spirit, and I felt as
if there should be a message aHd wondered if I would receive t@e @.ft. @hen Asta gave a messa@e in ton@ues and i was afraid that there would be no inteH)retation, and just said from my seat in a small voice, "Let on@interpret," when she broke throud@wit@ the int@rpr@tation. there were three messa@es, I believe. @hey said that if the p@ople remained holy souls would be saved. that many had co@e to a reco@ution(sad@r). It all@'itinbeautifullywith my sermon on separation. @e ate together again at Oom Peni's house at mi@day. John Parihala spoke in
the e:ening service on 7 steps to salvation 0@ some@@in@ of that sort. He is a little too
W
rosti and superfluous or som@t@@ ng. We stayed up late in the evening and talked and ate peanu@s, etc. In these last t@o days or so I had come to have a new admiratio@ for Esther,
"
wio @eems so bri@ht. @intje also seems b iehter than @any. @hen Billy opened up a little this nidit, and for the first time I goi t@ kno@ him a little.
10. It was still just a little after dawn when I rose and found the front door open. John Parihala had just beat Me and @one outside. Asta @ot up and started messin@ around in the kitchen. I bade her not to make anythine so as I could hurry away while it was still early.
r
She had a glass of warm sweet milk in iront or me before I knew it thou@4 and I drank it @s I wrote a telegram f'or John to send for me to Paul. @hen we all left for the canoe, and um Te and others were there too. Just when ever@t@in@ was about ready romeone arrived from the house @ith a bunch of fried hanan@s 2id peanuts from dear Asta, and i was off in th@ sparkling clear mornin.. I was @@@es*@g-t@e-b coastin@ beyond Bobo or so when t@e rains caught me in ear@est. there was a bi@ black p@tch out ofer the westtrn sea ahead, I had almost rammed my canoe upon
a rock somewhere past Bobo and then almost got cau@ht in bi@ surf that I didn't see but only becamf aware of when I stopFed paddlBn@ ta see if I could tell what a hissing sound off to my left was and then felt the heavy swell pass under mg@. @@ me. My pulse raced as I Baddled quickly out to sea and @otbluewaterunderme again @ld looked back to seebigwhitebreakers rolling in to shore, I must have just happened not t@-:be over the reef wAen there were big wave: I went deep from then on and It rained so hard @hat I couldn't see the shore anymore. When
I @ot off Tanjung @alwawat a stron@ wind c@ne up from th@ west and I could see that t@e sea would soon be rou@4 soll@@de forthe shore, ho@in@to pull my canoeup onto thebeach and
*
wait for the storm to iass. The surf seemed thunde ous as I approach4d. Especia@@y @n
my left hhnd, It was too dark to use my sunglasses and my li@ht lenses we e lost in the Waep San@kabun. I @ent farthereto t@e right and strained my eyes toward the shore. The surf was stil@ thunderous, but I could see that the beach was sandy, and so I hoped that the sha@lows were too. I supposed that @t would bc just about as difficult to land my canoe anywher@ else, all the nearby beaches being exposed to thc soQtheast swells. I couldn't for the life of me see how
the waves were shaping up and w@ just where @ @ y were be.:ning to break into su@f. I prayed
JUNE , 1968
10 continued,-
come bobbing up around my Ic@s was the thing that I needed least of all: the hand of plantains that the P@@@@a@@te-h@d Parihalas had placed in the canoe to be cooked later for provisions.
The lid to my tin was gone and the contents were soaked. I pulled the canoe up on the bar and took my tin ashore, It was o@ly then that I discovfred that I had landed just a little to the
right or to the east of the mouth of a rushin@ little stream th@t I later learned was the Wae Kase. I had berched my canoe on a sandbar and had to cross the stream, @hich was flowing west,
to get to the beach. I @urried back to my still upside down canoe and taxed my excapin@
strength fur@ er by lifting it up on its nose abov4 my head and turnin@ it over and letting
it fall back into th@ wat@r ri@@t side up. Then I t@wed it in across the stream and @ulled it up on the beach.to where my tin and my paddle were. and on up to where the weeds be@.n to @ro@w, The front outrig@er lashin@ parted on the left side.,I had heard th@ so@nds of humanit@
iistance bach so I took v tin and paddle, and, covered with my plastin tarp, I forded
the Waekase again and was intendin@ to oontinue eastward along the beach when I saw two figurs approachin@, beat a@ainst the wind and @ain. I stopped to put on my tr9users, then asked them if there was a villa@e nearb@. I had su?@osed t@at I had passed @aeMulan by no@, but no. They informed me that Waemulan was not far ahead, so I followed them. One of them was a "penatua",
he told me, and he said that he was glad to meet me after askin@ if I were a teacher of the Gospel from "Sidan@." When he saw that @ couldn't see well he carried ru" tin all the way to
the villa@e for me. I wept as I followed, thi@@in@ of how I would have to leave Buru because of *y @yes, I could see thatl could nolonger carry on.I would have to tell Corry andPuan. Ther! was a vision I had had, @ither tken or some other time, I don't remember, when I saw myself walkin@ into Selmai, te@rs streaming down my face, and thllin@ them th2t I x?uld have to leave
them. I slipped and fell on th@ slipper@ stones aw I followed my sure-footed "penatua@ I stubbed my feet. It seemed to me that God was tellin@ me that I should never do this again. I had lost the parang that I had bou@ht at the pasar in Ambon about three years ago and nade"a haniile for from a citrus branch. I had lost my reel and lin@, the one that I had paid Bill abou"
$8.00 for, and that Ama had brouLht in so many littl@ tuna with t@at tine when Mothfr wqs there with us at Selmai. I had lost all my provisions except for a littlf tin oi roasted peanuts in my big tin. The "Penatua" had picked up my teapot on the edge of the :and, but the lid was gone, r@r hand of ba1anas had also drifted ashore and they had found them, but rather than be troubled witih t@@m I had take@ them up and set them on a 10@ os t e beach so th@t someone else could
find them or I c uld come and get them wAen I returned for the canoe. @y provisions had been in an enameled basin ti@d with a dishtowel th:t Nothfr had made, and Some roasted peanuts were
still in the "rantang" canister: @he seat and dipper can were also gone out of my canoe. I late] found that a little vitamin " @' bottle 8@ fishhooks had also been lost o@t of m1 tin.
Wqe 4 @ an was muddy in th@ rain. They took me to the Tasane Soa Chieg's house, and there I was L-iben adry saron@ and sin@let and pairof short trunks towear. They were fine to me, @he varandah wqs @@@II of gazin@ children, but I have no reooolection of them having been insulting, though they didn't know any better than to crowd the window at the back of my head. @A@@---
That evening many came and talked with me, and I even testified some. @h@n one old man
came and sat and told me how I looked so @nch like his old American "tuan", Lodrik, and I questioned him further before revealing my identity. When he knew @ho I was he stood and took
my hand with joy and said"Djodjo! I know you!" and he recalled how he had known me as a wee
lad at @ate2. His m@ name was Mathiss Samadara! I didn't know the Samadara part, but I certainl@ remember@d the @athias part, because Dad had had two employees, one Thomas and the other Mathias, and one had lived up at th@ dump while the ot@e had lived down by the beach near the Guru2 boundary. one of my brothers had once commented that they had been poorly hooked up because in either case the lazy one had gotten hooked up to the hard-wor@.in@ one, but I can't remember which was which. @@ brother had been talkin@ about each one and his wife. Old Mathias and I talked u@d talked, and he told stories about lMd, and how rod would teach him English
up in the kebun, and tell him to take it @asy when Dad wasn't around. Etc, How typical of @od! Samadara also did a little testifyin@ about the miracles @oth@r had performed. 3e told the
story of how the official that was supposed to @rant the marriage liscence to him and Thomas
had presu@ed to ar@ue with Dad that they should fulfill the adat ritualfirst. @hey had argued till noon when the office was to close till two. The o@ficial w@e went to bed in th@ early after@oon and gave instructions for his servant to rouse him in tmme to return to work. when hi@ servant c@ne to rouse h@@he @m@@ihis body st@fl-in death. BB@8D8d h8d ma@e all the arran@emani for Mathias and @homas' marria@es. @hey gave me the bed I had sat on by the window in the livin@ room.

Tuesday, June 11, 1968, Waemulan.- I spent the whole day today in Waemulan. One of the young men went to S@t m@ canoe, and the kep@la soa said that he h@d broQ,ht ra ttan to tif my outriggrr with him
T w@@ @t the be@c@ whes he re@lrne@ @n@ R@w th t h hc@ f@un@ my c@ninter- hut n@ li@- T w@ra
JUNE 1968.
11 continued.-
their lures with several di seemed particularly succes tan at the ends, and with eye of @w hook, one up a with an opening and closing
ferent kinds of feather and in several styles, but the one @nar 11 was tied of maybe a dosen feathers of black mer.:ng into !oparticularly fine feathers tied with the ends fed through the one down to form the "head," the part of the lure that flutters motion where the gills should be. @-@e@@e@e-t@@@-@-W@S-@@@d-@@@t
"
mss@-e@-t@e F@e@er@e@-@e-
@-@ee-@@@ee-W*@@- I heard @ie@ say that the bubaras were
feedi@g
at ebb-tide, and the boy who borrowed my canoe, Thanel, waited for the afternoon reflux
of tide so @on@ that I suFpo
i that he wasn't using my canoe after all. he uit two bites,
but one
got away. @h@ kepala Soa (
hanel's father got two beautiful bubara which I
e@w inspected in
the back before they butch
red them. We had had delicious bubara steak last
niiht. k@@@n@ thing,
thou@h, they never seem to
eat papeda here. At iirst I sup?osed that it was
becaude of me, but
it seems thattA@yhave ab doned that*'orm ofdietmoreorless all to@ether. Very stran@e for the Moluccas. @here seem@ 0 be a better economical si@lation here, tho@@h. In the niF@t Samadara took me to the seach to pj s and looked at my canoe. I told him ab@ut how I had lost my seat
and on thf way back he se ; one 0 hhs boys up to his house to get one of his which he later
trimaed @0 fitmy canoe " felt acertainbond thcrein the darkness, andl seenedto begin to better understand why I h had to suffer that catastrophe to the ri@lt of the mouth of the
Waekase on@andjo@@ Malwa tt. His wife had just died. @e had been out 0:"contact with the truth
for @bout 20 y@ars. Ihe s d his @ife had been dead about a month. ) He was a tukanh, a contractor in the village. I spok to him and told him that whaSever happens to us and where@er we may@et to, r@od remembers s. @here was somethi9!spiritual thatl could certainly senxein him
t@en.Likel have said, a ondbetweenus. Alon6i@@@in him forthe truth. A faith, I@ thelight of the pr@ssure lamp I st ied the head 0 this old Kisarese. He hBd grayin@ kinky hair. thick lips, b@t a Certain @inne ; about his features. A sensitiven@ss. He was the sort of model that couldn8t fail to inspire great artist, I had talked to a chinese who was n@tive of Buru
on @ @ beach in tAe aft@ @on before @hanel t@ok my canoe, and testified to him. @e was a hard core @rotestant, and said hat he @as the first Chinese to embrace Christianity in South @ulu.
I testified to him, notk )@@n@his"reli@@on" forits errors. I went and relieved myself f@rther down the beach so ewhat screened by the dead bran%les oi a fallen tree. A lad with
a stupid walk went down t the seaside and walked aw@y from me to the west. w@en I went up toward the village he was beside me and spoke to me a bundh 0@ nonsense about his not bein@ there to greet me yesterday becaus @e didn't want to look like a stupid @illager. He led me to Sa@adara's house but Smmadara wasn't tker@. i spotted what looked like a ball ;ield and as@ed i@m if t@at was what it was. @e reFli d ne@ative. I walked on down tie trail toward it fordin@ the stream
"
@n a log, and found that 0 be exactly w@at it was thou.h. @here was an *R@e@@- intolerable, slimy spirit in tkis lad hat I @ould feel. It @as li@e Jamo's. He was belchin@ with lies, and
some childrenhadf"ollow and werekind enou5lto tell ml in Buruese--w@ici itturned out he
"
knew little 05-that he s lyin@ and that he was th@ son of the "Protestan@' gu.u, and then I saw why he had been belc ng all that nonsense about the villagers to turn us against each other, and tryih@ to @et thin@s hat shouldn't be said out of me. Lecherous swine his father must be! The rottenness of their .ergy was brought home to me joltingly again in those few moments. As
we returned toward the h ;se I told him that he ought to "bertobat," and I developed a mocking attitude toward him. t@amadara's testimonies were wonderful, though, and it was unnecessary 'for me to bearwitnessoSlmyself, because he was one of them, after all these years, and they would know just about e@ tly what they could believe of what he said. I oniy hope that he was
in the habit of tellin@ e truth! It s@e would seem that the Lord has a plan for this village. @Ren I had ar=ived home 1 th that idiot of a preacherbs son in his short pants and army cap,
I had bone in the back dl r and directly out onto the varandah, where I @as thronged by the 'children that hadbeen @ .lowini@. It seems that tRey wanted me to sing. I don'tknowjust how
it @ot started. At any r te I held a lively Sunday-school class @idlt there on the Kepala Soa's front porch, with all so ts of li@@le ears list3nin@ intently, I @a@ putting into th@m the sort of moral fabric that the had never @itten before, and they seemed to love it. There wa@ even an adult or two that had co e to listen. :@" idiot friend had tried to get me @@ come inside as soon as I had gone out to sit in the li@ht, and when I had brushed him off he had dissap@eared.
The women had wa@k ! my things and tkey had been drying throu @i the day. I@ the ni@ht they ?repared katupats for my journey tomorrow. I had a word with them while Samadara was working
to trim ths seat. It was a p@easant, informal talk we all had, and I told Samadara and them
'
about the human heart t @splant that had taken place successfully in SouthAfrica.
I must add a not to this There was somethin@ aboui Samadara's Islandic heritage t@at fascinated me artistically. He stro @ly reminded me of the shining black statuett in my book on the
art of the Pacific. The ne of the old man in a semi bent position with his hands placed characteristically on his sto ich. Somethin@ satyrical about his shin@ sable thi@hs that glistened exposed as he sat in hi short @e@@s.trunks. He is of an interesting racial ori@in.
l2.Wednesday.@a@@lan
raslrpu@u4rulauim8au@*
They had marveled last n
@it when I sPanned my chart
to
se@ vow lar
i couiu
@@Lu@@umv@@unAp@@
and didn't think it was,
ossible to reach Pa@irputih
in
one day.
It was
a clear morni@a
'
and
my
ts accom@anie
@e to thc canoe. I started to str p
off
the saro @ t@at @i 3.had
Ip
me,
ana
@ne @epala soa
otest@@. @! had a bitter argumnent,
but
at last I prevailed In
4
"
'

J@ @ 19@3. 12 continued..
at least getting him to which he simply refused house, so I paddled off
@ ba*; @is sarong, thoudl I felt I had to take the singlet,
ta@e bacr. I had changed from his short trunks to my BVDs : the hQ I dazzling white! It was hard to leave them,I had @grown to like them
so much, and their kindn @ was amazing to me. Here was none of that Ambonese pride and hatred, but just simple folk, content to be what they were, and full of love for this departing white
stranger. The Kepala Soa d been so unpretentious, and simple, and happy to be fishing at Waekuma, and talked ani edly about his exploits. So different from those that try to be
"
stuffyandgreat.I really liked him and enjoyed my stay at Waemulan. The Kepala Soa
Tasane had told me that MULAN meant BUBARA, and that was where the river got its name. This was the flood season, an the bait fish were swarming at its mouth. It was interesting to hear them tell of their mly sport and of how they would get their lines tangled, and how
they were afraid to dangle their feet in the water for fear of the sharks that were there also excitedly taking advantage of the swarming fishes. The Kepala Soa told of how he got @ ipped
once but @)t pulled out " sp@@e feliows from one of the other villages before it was too late.
There are three vir es that use the rivermouth for a fishing grounds because of the abandance oi gamefish. I paddled out a ways and stopped to relieve myself as my s@omach was upset. I seemed to drift back toward the village, and was a long time in finishing my business.
I only hope no one saw. paddled @@@eBgA over an oily sea, but with big swells running @s
with me to the west. All as fair till I neared @/ : the storied Tanjung WaeLimen. There the swells began to build in , boiling seas, and my heart wanted to fail me for fear. I first noticed an ominous hissing sound off to my left, and then saw the white of breaking waves, and it was v,on all around me, and the horizon and the shoreline were repeatedly submerged by @e@v@@g
tons of heaving water. The wind came up from behind. I was careful to stay clear of the
surf off Tanjung Waelimen! On the chart I had noted the long reef surrounding her, and I instinctively winced inwardly at the thought of being ground up there in such seas as these.
My heart was racing but I paddled on, quotine scriptures and praying out loud. I seemed to get the victory spiritually, d could seem to sense the inward power of the Holy Ghost, and was comforted. I had a bite to eat when I had gotten into smoother water on the far side of the heaviest surf, the current seemed to be against me, though, and I seemed to be drifting back.
No wonder the seas were breaking, if this swell was bucking a strong current. I had to paddle
on around more surf past the next point before I finally could rest my soul in the tranquility of-alazy.calm tropical a@oon, with the beloved sun beating down after her zenith from overhead.
I reasoned that ther must be stormy weather somewhere out in the Banda sea for there to
be swells like these on such a calm day here. What surprised me though, was that the southeast swells could reach so far around the coast of Buru. All wasn't yet over when I got into flat
calm water. Between there and 30r@ lay vast patches of reef, and out on the reefs the S.E.
Ils were still breaking in earnest. I was mightily careful to pass them on the outside, and plenty of blue water under my keel. Becausel had gotten ca@5@
to keep @@@e-we@@@-@@de@ ieathtrap shallows so ofte@ because of my poor eyesight I developed unw@ttingly enteringtho eye on the colourofthe waterunder me all the tim@L@@7@@what way
the te@hnic of kee@in@ for avoidin@ beach combers! I found myself @ - ater
I addad a new safety catc
and had almost to double ack to keep from @ettin@ in the surf. I thought that I *@e must be
over tbat last stretch oflreef at the entrance to Fogi bay, and I was. That stretch of reef
'
forms a barrier far out j to the sea, and I didn't like having to paddle all that way around it.
I watched the surf as b@s I could so as not to overshoot too far and get caught amon@ the
ot@er little reefs that d tted the bay farther north accordin@ to my chart. When I thou@ht I
;hind the surf and missed any other patches oi surf there may have
was past I cut in almos'
been. The sun was st 11 shininc beauti @ Ily as I ent@red Fo@i Bay, and the water, at
lon@ la@t, was calm. I w ; not entirely without apprehensions as I paddled alon@, howevcr, foro@f to my leftl cou] hear @@e seethinghiss ofbre@@ers onthe reefs, tnougll couldn't
see them. I didn't s : @)@i at all, but saw t@e mouth of a stream. Still in doubt I
pulled out ;@@ map and ch ;ked, and my l@@p seemed to assure @e that I was in Bo@i Bay. I kept it handy to check from time 0 time so as to know @xactly w@at to expect, I had been told t@at tiere wa& an inland Fassage li @n@ Fo@. and Tomahu Bays and when I had chec@ed my mnp I had found ittobeli@ltlymarked. twasforthispassagethatlnowsear@hed. Someoft@emost beautii'ul scenery anyw@e ;on the coastsofBuru n:eetedmein t@c R)gi Bay area. Theplace reminded @e of @ate2 wit its man@@ove beached. It filled me with yearnini or awe or sometlun@.
"
T@en I entcred that encl ed bay wh@@e the passage was supposed to be, and found the watcr
deep and glassy smooth, id thoud@t what a place that would be to keep a launch . I loved it
"
beca@se the wilderness w9 so desolate there. At the entrance to the bay on the far side I found some rocks stretch @ o@t into the sea. I follo@ed the @hore arou@d to the ri gAt a4d
found a lovely little spo wit@ the ruins of an abandoned stilt house out over the water and
a snit of sand for a bea in thf background. @here were strange splashings in the water, and
one or two seemed to bi@ or a fish to have made, and I wondered if there midit have still been crocodiles lurkinu there.:I was later assured not so by the people (a man, I mean at Pasirputih. I am still a littl sispicious, thou@h, as I know the price of crocodile hide (I
mean, I @ m w how ex@ensi ; it is , and if there were coocodiles there, an$one living nearby hatha @@ @ @F@Oom fi ultyl found theentranceto thewaterway a paddledin.
by t@en,

I
JUNEl@68. l2continuc@-
The nlace had an au@ of mystery about it@"ora lonf stran@cr like myself, arrivin@ asl was for thc first time in little outrigger canoe. @h@re were stran@e rus@lin@s and splashes in @u@bushes and water. ansrove t@eesleaned overthewater on each side, Itwaswide enml@l for about two or th@ee ou rigger canoes like mine to travel abreast, and it was deep. It
looked to melike a small mo@orboat mi@ht even makeit thro9%@without difficulty. @idal current@ must have worn t e bottem deeper over the years, There were hills not far away on eitherhand, but theman ovetreesblocked the @@iew. I heard voices up ahead an@ passed
"
a house @hat was on t@e r @ht bank, takin. care not to make a sound. I heard the strokes
or a paddle and passed a 01e2 from AiSrernate. By and by my pass@ge opened out e@@e- into
a delig@ful little b@y, nd up ahead two prahus lay at anchore. I asked if they might have rice for sa@e as I passed ons of them, but the answer was negative. It started to rain,
probably som@time afttr I passed the busy littl@ village of Air Ternate. Air Ternate has
a mosque that dominates t e center of the village from the sea, and they seemed to be buildin@ canoes or boats tllere by he sound of thc workers that came floating out to me. Somewhere
I also met two canoes who said y@s when I as@ed them ii they were from Pasirputih. I coasted on, and th@ deepsea horizon d opened out a@ain, but there were no more real waves. In the gat @athering darkness and th rain i crossed ov@r to Tengah Island, stopFing to eat from my pro@isions in the chilly i @ t at had come up, The good women of WaeMulan had made so many @ine coconut milk katunat for me that I couldn't eat them all, plus my lidless canister full of delicious bubara steaks. finished the bubara, but there were abQut 4 katupats left.
I Faddled on s@iftly to !ep from @etting cold. A perahu had 100 d up ahead. It was at anchore, and it wasn't long befor I sa@ that it @as lying ri@ht in front of the villa@e of Pasirputih. The whole place was fro fairy tale book. Old @ iling ships moored in dead calm waters off
a village mount@d out ov ' the water on stilts with brilliant white sand showing between the rustic pilings and walls. I paddled past the perahu inspecti@g '@he place. An elderly man bec@oned to me from the @d@l but I didn't see him. When I came back they @@acalled to me and I drew near and they invit me aboard. I was glad, as I had not int@nded to go on in the rain. @hey gave me a line and I climbed aboard and sat in my wet clothes under t@e awnin@ while it poured outside, and even @t worse a little while later. After the usual questions, or perhaps still during them, someo @2@e me a towel, @@d I had to use it. It didn't smell. I œot my tin and dressed and sat with couple or three men inside. They were very nice to me and treated
'
me like a normal human bu n@, and even a@ked if I weren't perhaps a native of the interior!
@hey kindly invited
e to eat with t@em and led mf ashore in the darkness, takin@ me in their kole2, wh@le the man who
ad beckoned to me paddl@d my canoe for m@. He was 9robably Sulaese.
"
Their perahu had a n@me
lat was one of the abbreviations of somet@@ n@ like '@iersatuan Daga@g
Mal@œu," and it was just
rom San@na the day before, and had brou@ht new settlers from Sula, I understood them tosay. P
iir@utih was still a new village. I had taken my mone@ and my
"
@' but lef my tin on
mu@n@s-ba@ sh@ '
sort of vegctable or som@@thing that Afterthemealweallsœ@aroundin to let me sleep early, u I needed awhile, s@yin@ t@at I w@ t@d to get
the perahu. We ate a shabby meal of suami and some
'katupatsforthem.
wasn't even green, and I left my fou.
a circle cross-@e@ged on the mats and talked. @hey wanted to, but I insisted on stayin@ u? and talkini with them for to know them or something of the sort. I later shared
a raided bed that was ev-@@ hi@her t@uul the matted floor with another f@llow, and we slept with
i
the murmer of the wavelehs under the @@@@e bamhoo-lath flooring, ahd the delightful hiss of
the WaeUla @@ drifting aqross from themainland. I had thou@ht of David Fairchild and his "Cheng Hoa" as I had @n@@@ed the bay, and I h@d tasted the deli@htfully cool waters 0 ' the
storied @aeUla at the ev@nin@ meal. @e had sat at a @ewr long, 10@ table, Jap2nese @tylm.
C@ the floorin@. Thq Djur@san@ of tAe perahu had told of a perahu that he had spotted driftin@ aimlessly about tht deep and t@at, when they had @one to in;2sti@ate, they had found @@@
every soul aboard dead md the remains of a feared fish that look s like a tuna but ha s the teeth of a Fu@fer fiEh ( hat i@, @le teeth @re all one piece) aboard. @e had gathered t@at they had all been poisoned to deatk, and seei@@ that there was not@in,: he could do to @el? tAem he
had simplyleftt@em a@ hey @ere, todrift the lonely seas. Hewouldn't reportth@mf"or fearof ' unwanted investi@ations,land possible implications.
n3i, Thursday. Pasirputih - the forestne2r Bara.-
It was a splendid and cl r dawn. ?omahu stqod in vivid form across the channel, about like in
"
thr picture in David @ai child's book. I @anted to go but my hosts det@ined me. I had mentioned papeda the ni@@t before , d th@y had heard me and said that they would make me a batch of
"
papeda bun@@lS for my pr @sions. As I sat tal@@n@ *@ with a group of men I saw a @oman
carryin@ @ hand of ripe ]antains, and th@@ said t@@t they were for me. I offered to pay for
them, as thfy had eviden ly had to buy them, but thfy refused. They were so lon@ that I
went with a Man who led e to the e@d 0@ the village for a better view of th@ mountain and the channel. The villagers t Iked pleasantly to me. Either this mor@ing or last ni@ @ they told
of the Japanese occupati n, and how th@ Japanese had had a lookout on the mountain behind
the villase. I was mpati@nt @$ be gone, as I had planned to make it to Selmai by t@@s ev enenin@. Itis the same Id stoiy ol"t@e- a completei@noranceDf the value of time. @et I couldn' leaYe witho4t being insu ting to them, which I almost @as. They were evidently ashamed of the
'

I
'
JUNE
19@8,
1@
continued.-
'
quality of the provision@ that they had for me and kept putting me off, unable to face up to
the reality 0*"t@e matterorhopin@I would stay tAeday or somethingwould happen sothat the@ could bftter provide for e. @@ck at the house I had to @urr@ them with the sun already high
over the sloFes, and 811 @ot in the end was papeda bungkus that had somf kind of grainy fibreinit and uncooked @a@tains. A sad diet fora nulbe t to thepaddle under ablazin@
"
sun @11 tht d@y lo@g. If nly they had told mf in@tead of puttin@ me off, I could have been
@ell on my way! some t@had @oneoutand brou@i my canoe and tinin to me. Thsn,makin@sure
"
of ever@t@in@I wasof@ id biddinœ thfm farewell asl paddled outoverthe glassyblue wat@rs.
Ther@ @ere pra@us e erini and lesving the harbor, and @ ma@e better time, passing the 0 ones that were leavin@. prayed t@at tue Lord would give them wind. I had never seen such splendor on a rau@lese coa t before. This bay is indeed a paradise! The glassy smooth waters and tœe sound of cascadin@ w ;ers in the bright mornin@ air are an incomparable combination! After the sound of the WaeUl@ .es down in the distance, and you paddle across the dreamy sea in landlocked safety, you c ie to the channel with the enchanted little isle of @omahu loomin@ ahead, and th@n, from off to t@ ri@ht,comes @@e a new hiss, this time the sound of @@e AirDiin.
Even the name is romantj It comes from Arabic, and means "GenSe Creekr 0@ "Genie Wa@er". @aturaliy, I thoudtt of @i-Hai, and fell @n love with th@s little dream isle! I thought oB
a home on its barren sumwTt, lookin@ out over t@e sea, I thought a@ain of my pr@yer for wind when a strong north wind ad come up that I had to battle even ere I reached @omahu Isle!
I mourned my lost time a I bucked the je@-stream which came po8@ring down upon me, and my
heart wqs a little turned the@, against t@e @ood people of Pasir Putih, despite all their kindness. If only I coul@ have @@tten @way earl#er, I could now be nearins Cape Palpetu, and not have to buck this wind a] the @iles that yet remained between here and there! All this
@idn't keep me from enjo n@ th@ beautF about me, though, and on the shore of Tomahu Isle I
came to the most deli@@t 1 and deep little cove, and ri@ht on the south point of it, very near the water, was a shed E;d a boat a-build@@&e e planks of which shown bri@htly in the sun-
'
shine. @her@ didn't seem 0 be a soul about, but there @as also h house that I presently saw,
little farther inland. here @as no sound other than the sounds of th@ wilderness,
@themai land @@ain and skirted some rocks thatmarked the be@innin@ofa tchofshallow@ that st etcsed all the way pastBiloro.In the shallows the seaweed LT@w @0
P@ ,,t for deeper water to keep from having my canoe slowed down by
thick that I soon paddleb hull. I had struck rocks a time or two over the fir@t shallow patch. friction with them and @e or two, and didn't like the attitude of the occupants of one of
th@m that 2as œrom Biloro @hey said, "Si@@gah dul@, ada an@.n itu!" Tellini me to put in at the
"
i nof'doin@any sucht@in@! Whenl gotto BiloroCovethe wind was
village, I had no intini @n forward to decrease the r@sisting surface, Someone yodeled to me
so strong t@at 1 naa to , and I yodeled back softly. At the point 1 put in,for a moment,
"
fr@a the shore as I pass
to the e@@@@e*e sa@dy sh lows and t@ere ate a plantain or two i@@@Joked and pissed.
After I had started out @ ain, and had gone a little wa$, I was accosted from the shore behind
me and turni@@ I saw a@ou 5 youths who were shouting 9@e mana?" and when I had told t@em to Airbuaya, "Sin@@ahdulu!"I answeredt@at m@journey wasyet far, and thatl had not the time.
,
hateful in the Alfurs. I
aw t@at t@ y were @till a good ways away, so I decided to run for it rather than get held uF
my journey. I turned hard to thf left (seawardi, and saw that there were breakers ahead, but
t seemed that there was a clear patch to the right. For this I headed. The shouts eTew frantic.
y heart was racing, but I calmed myself with @e@se@r-@e@@@@ wisdom,
coldly
reasonin@
in my mi
d that it was the aniim@l nature in me that wanted @0 react with the
animal
nature in
them th
; instinctively attempted to paralize its victim with fear by bloodand vi@lence. I refused to respond, I don't remember ever@thin@
curdlin@screams of hatre
,@ill him!" etc., but a hail of sto@es fell about me, mi@sing @@@ that they shouted, beside
"@"@@e
mark and quickly fallin@
hort of me as my faithiul arms and hands drew @e swiftly out ovi
reefs and into t@@ deep b
ue 9 @in. i didn't see them, but venture that they were wadin@
out into the water afte
@.as I esc@ped. They were so offended that I didn't cowtow to t@emi ttures that L@@e they we@e. Savage, one mi@ht say. @hey had gotten
Beastly, undisciplined c
; @Q the coolness of my reason I determined to con-
a canoe into the water
were out after me.
itrength, and r
@sed to be in a blind hurry. I paddled methodically, paying heed to
"
course and sea. Lookin@
.ck my failinbeyes could makeoutwhite spray andl knew that t@@y
@ere bailin@. I was only
ne, and thfre were two or more of them. Even so, I s*opped and bailed my canoe calmly from tim
to time. @hey shouted pfrsistantly all the while, but soon their shouts grew weaker and weaker a
d I saw that they had turned back. I had beaten them! This canoe
of Ama's making was a wo
ihy craft. I@ was no wonder that they had turned back. The sea was
now a boilin@ mess that
;w natives would dare to negotiate in a canoe alone. @he wind was
right on my boy. @here wa
evidently a northward current running, for the swells and waves were building up and breaking
n hissin@, foamin@ white. Out here the wind that had been streaming
south duri9s the morning
ts waxing stronger and strong@r, and was able to build fearsome seas,
@R@ri @@ no longer hampe
;d now by belts of reefs. Samudera in her fury! I knew that @od
could c@lm those seas, hi
he didn't. @@ There were shouts from the landward ahead 0@ me
nQ@beeBd I saw that they
ad shoved two or more larger canoes into the water, and that the
i
JUNE 1968, 13 continued i@econd continuation.- @
number of my tormenters k d been multiplied by new arrival from field or village, I knew not.
The@ had been able to get lead of me on foot, and thcy had had th@ advantaee that there ha@pened to be canoes on th@ beach I thou@ht of the alternatives. They had proven themselves to
be poor paddlers by the f :st attempt, and their craft were not of the sleek design of mine,
and probably leaked a @00 deal, so as to keep part of the crews tied down with bailinr, which
was the same as dead wei@ @ I reasoned that I could es@ape them by @hk*@rre@@ striking out for deep water, but all this @ doubtless ap@ealed to @@@ir chase instincts, and it would b@ a wo@derful challen@e to th r uneventful lives to stikk with it till they captured me, as they
had no re@ard for time exl nded like I did. @his could have lasted all day. Meantime the wind
was waxing, @@@-@@e-ee@-"3,,. ...-'e I knew, and the sea would become an impossible, boiling cauldron. Their chances i capturin@ me would have been very slim if I had wanted to shoot
with t@i wind, that is unless they had @ood sailing cra @ in the
out and back to Pqsirputi
village caFable of overt time. Still, @ litt@ of my vains, and I knew how
in@ me, and they were able to tell what I was doin@ and respond in @t tuna I had eaten had turned to Oma@se bldod which now throbbed in man could @et out below the horizon in such a small canoe in not
too long a time, and if t :y couldn't see me, how could they possibly catch me? $till, I had had enou di deep sea f r my liking, and didn't wan@ to risk my neck on that kind of a brew, and wastc my time, or yet relenquish the distance that I had gained. I just wanted to continue
peaceably on my quiet way I loved who had been the turned toward the canoes They couldn't catch me bu done to be worthy of this
to Airbuaya and render my help and moral supoort to the people tkat ictimsofdisasterthcre. Idecidedtogivemyselfup. I
td approach@d them. I @ told them to look, that I had come to them.
I had come to them. Shat @as it that they wanted of me? What had I sort of treatment? I had no quarrel with any of t@em. I bade them
bo home and leave me alnn . They were furious. One young savage in particular, in the bow of the big lepa2, who thrust his ribby chest out, bursting with pride, and poontin@ to its middled
shouted, "Do you know who.I am?!" I shouted back how could I possibly know who you are. He was
@@1 ;s on hallowed water, an@ @ee had a notioa to remove the canoe from under my seat when this @@@@le
little ape wanted to boa Ime. I out-@aneuvered t@@m, though, andbeachedmy canoe alone. Then
I shouted that thcy couldlLk@vemy canoe and cargo. I wasgoingqn, on footi They had not ri@ht whatsoever in the world t@ stop me on the high seas, which are the same thin@ as a highway. I
had had nothin@ whatsoev@i to do with any of them or their vil@age. wQen I had protestingly
dr@w near their canoes ea@lier they had argued that the village chief had summoned me. When I
had said that I had done *0 wrong toward any of them I heard one shout "Ose ada pantjuri!"
"You have stolen!" This i@ a v@ry harsh voice. They told me to stop and go back. I told them
"
*ed me to @)back they would have to tie me up and dr@@;meback " had a right
that if they war
to travel past th@ir vill@ge, and they had no ri@ht to stop me. @overnment reL@@ationssaid that " one must report to the c)@ef of Government of an area one arrived at in 48 hours, but I had @ot even set foot in their vi@lage, and hadn't been, even in therr area, for any 48 hours, and rurthermore I had busineu@ to ar@end to at Airbuaya. Evidently t@e same demo@ that yelled,
wfou have stolen!" was t@B one that spread the lie again on the beac@. He came up and said,
you are wanted by th@"ruowernment" at Biloro and by the kingofLicela at Wamlana for stealin@ a sacred plate (dish) at @a@a!" I said, '? arlente!" I had walk@d off and left my thin@s, and I don't know who t@e fellow was, but a proud little squirt walked quickly alon@ abreast of me on
1
i@ht 8nd said, '@atm@ lua bisa djadi, ni!" I said, @œen@@a taman@ mau bakupukul deng beta?" my ilg the others, as if afraid to act
And that helped to save 1@@ blows, I QLess. He kept be@g
alone, as of course he wi@lld have been if he were alone with @e, "Beta bela e?" @hose who came afterme were armed witkdi@ferent objects. Pieceso@'wood, etc, butmy e@esi@ht failsme to
sa3 exactly what or how :@@ny. @hen I ha@ drawn near to them on the sea they had again thrown missilesatme. One soun ;d like a rock, and a @ood sized one atthat, and theother apieceof wood. PerhaFs a seat. BO 1 missed me. I @@@@g@$-@@@@-@@@% @athered that they must have @uickly @Dthered up stones and 1 ded them into their @epa2 to fling at me when @hey @ot into range.
To make a lo@ger st ry shorter, they came in force and took me by both wrists and dragged me back to their lepa2 and addled me back to a walang where there chief @as while some lil@tle
boys paddled my canoe al ngside. I do@ t know where my things @ere. @t the walan@ the chief
asked me to enter @ld si , and said thœt we would have to go back to the villa@e first, yes?
I saidl wasat their mecy, so thatall I could do wasgoback to their villy;e, ifthat was their will. @e loaded upia@ain and were off to the village of Biloro. All that time and distance and effort for nothing! The village is sandy, with coconut trees. Th@ keD5ls @ampon@ @ad
a fairly nicelittle hou ewith stuccoorpart stucco wal@s, w!d i*'@ renember, acement floor.
" @heelder@w@re@ic enougl,butt@erewasstill,ofcourse,t@atcompletelackofconcern for my time. In thf kole @@ tormentors @ad @ried to be more friendly, as a matter of fact, sickenin@ly so. I had s d t@@t I would neither eat or drink in Biloro w@en they had spoken of nourishment, but now the s@rved the @epala @ampon@ and I with a small @lass of tea, and I
drank mine, talkin@ poli@@ly. It was a little embarrassing when I didn't have my pass, but th@ere was an old Sulaese thcrf who said t@at the village of Selmai had @een completely washed away, @hich lent extra urgenc@ to my mission. I pointed out that theu@h I was new here, that tSere w were members of the gro ) that kad brough@ me in who knew me. At least one, the one who said @b@$rl had stolen the p tte. He a@*eed to overlook t@e matter after I had given my name and
1

JUNS 1968. 13 continued ( @ rd continuation).-
other information. The whole ordeal must have lasted hours. It was midday now. Ae The kepala
* summoned me and t@at he had been at his kebun when the chase took
@ampon@ said that he h@d @
place, and he begged me t for et the words and actions of hid yQung bucks. I said that we
could"b@kubae @ldah."( @eup)ibeongoodtermsaeain) Aslpreparedtolcavehesu@vs-
t@d I look throu@A my t-j Es first and make sure nothi @; was missing. I found the money I had
prepared for spending iol ed in tso layers inst@ad on all toget@@r likf I had left it, but the
roll of about Rp6,d@O was :@le. I had kept both in my pocket the ni@ht before @t Pasirputih,
and had taken them from poc@et after I had paddled out fomm land and placed them both well
in@ide tht tin to make s@ s @@@t they didn't @et wet in the spray later in the day, and I hadn't
been into my things since them. @hey helped me s@arch throudl all my thin@s but it simply wasn 't
t
ther@. I heard a worried @m@n say, "@here, you see? Using the name of the "Government!n Now
@he chief had himself som problems. Fortunat@ly, I thou@ht, there were sevfral RF5OO notes
in the roll, and these wo Ld probably still bt uncommon enou@l to arouse susFicion. I mentioned
t@is fact to the chief, asked him to send my money to me at Arrbuaja when he found it.
@hen, t@;in@ my tMings, I ]eft. Attthe do9r he said, "But, what about the money?" I said
I didn't know, but I coul l't wait around here for it. Perhaps my words werfn't exactly to that
effect, but thos@ were @y thoudlts, I carried my tin to the canoe, and didn't turn to
wave as I paudled away. I bucked the wind all the way to Tandjun@ Palpetu, the great,
rounded, extreme @er@@e@ northwest point of Buru, followini it around inside of the barrier
reef œhen I @ot to it. I had passed many house, but no more villages. There are houses all
alon@ that coast, and fa s. I paddled alon@ a street of white sand beneath the clear
waters that stretched in beautiful @radual curve around the sandy point between the sand of
@le shore and the seaweed while o@f to my left the @e@@@@a@@- norhheast swells bsoke o@er the
f. It was a lovely smo th stretch, except for the wind, There was a lepa2 moored empty near
the shore, and I used it 0 check the current, and it seemed to be s@th me. That would fit my
c@lculations from the inf rmation @ive@ to me by the natives, who said thet it would be runnin@
'
@@upward" leastward) at low tide, and east would be the position oi the moon at the next low
-p
tide. It was ebbtide when I checked the current at the lepa2. The natives had all said
to
hoot directly across the@ @y if I got a good current, but thc sun didn't seem hi@h enou@l
anymore to makeit. I cou see@andjon@ Waebebek, very thinin thedistance, but@ h'eaded
farther landward, so th@t
he shadow of
my head fell in the bow of
the cano@ ahead. I thou@lt t@at that course @ould t
e ke to shore
about in the middle 05 the
bay, but little @@@* di@ I
lize that I has headed
Imost as far
east as Bara' The sky
over Tomahu wa@ black now,
and thcre was @athering @ oom all across the interior. I didn't realize it could be so far, I thou@lt that I was a sail @= the landward. Then I lost it. Then I saw it @rain a;d It was hi@her.
"
@h@re waE a @@ell runnin@ @;ai;st me, from thc northeast, or a little north of east. Once
or twice there was t@e hi s of the riptide@, but they weren't serious. After sometime I
M:at tRe sail Ae@ I d seen ,as really a l@@estone cliff cau@ht in the lon@ rays of the late aftfrnoon sun, quite hi @1 abovc t@e sea, but below t@e horizon at first. No wond@r my
"@@iF" had seemed sl@;! ste@red my course by these outcrop @n@s of roc@ no@, but b@ and by thf@ w@re obscured by rar shoMers until I couldn't see the shore. I sid:ted on the land to thc left. @here was the dista t rumble 0@ th@nder. The sun was dying out on me. A sibu2 had sprung
From t@e l@nd which ma e my unhappy at first, but I soon saw that it was a blessin@ in
P ;1, . @, but I could still steer for the land by the sibu2. My nostrils disguise, as t@e darkne@
@
filled with the% spi e scent of the rainforsets, and there was a delicmous perfume that scented the ni@ht air, th ui@i from what flower I cannot tell. As I dry near the land I heard
the faint muwRlr of the s rf. It had started @0 rain a little, As I paddled on I became aware
Bf afaint glow,ahead of e. I disco@@red to my dismay that w@atl thoudlt mi@ltbeli@htening at first was in fact a f nt residual glow of twi li@ht, and I was turned armud @1d heading back wherel had come fro!riv sibu2 had died down and I hadn'tnoticedit, probablybecause
I was thinkin about some hin@ or other @ar from reality. I had been thinking how very long it was t@iin@ me to @et to t e beach when I could already hear the surf and the sea @as fairly smooth! Now , turne *y canoe back for shore and steered by looki@@ back at th@ d.ow
' @fu ly to the surf, unti@ at last the beach was under me, and I had made
and list@run@ more car nd @11 was well as far as my strug@le with the sea for the day was
a landln@ In qulet wate @lrst let loose. I had felt up @long the pcbbly shore to see if @@ concer@ed. A re@ular cl canoe up, and @ @ i had had a little difficulty in gettine it @ast coast was clear to dra@
soRe dead wood, but had f n@lly @)tten my pl@stic tarp tied to the two outri@gersupports, @ore
"
the tarboard outri @ > r up wi @@ another piece of deadwood that I felt on
and aft, and proppet wher I needed it. I heard a heavy drippin@ and @ondered if it mi@ht
the beach just abo . ;mp@y forest house. Near the sound there was much less rain fallin@
be from the eaves ol someil
on me, and when I found t e driplin. ?lace ther@ was raally a bi@ stream of wat@r pourin@ down, just like what you would xpec@ from th@ roof of a house where one slope joins another,
or at the end 0@ a trou@h I felt a notch in @ leaning pole and thought mayhe it was a ladder. @@en I disco @red that Ae whole t@in@@a@ just a bi@ pandanus tree with a notch or two cut into one of its leanin@ r ots and wat@r drainin@ down its tru@r and off a severed root.
After bat@inl i@ th@ raid I crawled under my tarp and dried myself with my $e@ wet but wr!@@ sin@led. @hen I arran=ed r tin and my mummy-bag sheet, and thou@h it was a little damp, and
%@ tarp leaked a little a ter the trip to Banulalet, I sletp, I didn't even ea@ any more
of tho@e @ickening raw p ntains and papeda, but slept as I was.

@@E
19M.
14.
Fridsy. @he fore@t n
ar Bara to
Selmai.-
I was up early and
racked my
head on a
piece of
deadwood t@at was in
the
way when I
was
dr@@@n@ my canoe ba
:intothe
wat@r. It
had been
in my port outri@@er
and
I had cracSed
my head on it @hen @ had leaned over to @Tope for it in the
semi-dar@ness.
Last ni@ht I
had thought that I couldM.,.@ tell b5 the smell of firewood
in the air and
the direction
of
the
Kindandsomesounds--!l@c"'
the west of where I
had
@nt the nir@t. Now, as I paddled alon@ in the dawn I saw lonely
"
figures com@@@ down
to t
beach to relieve themselves and I spoke to one of them and ad@ed him where Bara was, and
he t
Id me t@at I was there. I had passed a little point with some rocks.
"
"
As I paddled on the sky got li@hter and li@hter, and the peaks of the Kapalatmada range sere spectacular in the ear morning air, @here was one to the east of the others that @ad t@elook of the Matterho aboutit, thoug@it was all @reeninstead of white, and i di@@'t seem to be abreast of it till I @ot up to @andjun@ Waebebek or so. T@ere were porpoises
came to @aebebek point, and there was a settlement @@-@@e-@@@1@@-e--
pla@inti close in before @@ere was also a settlement in the cove to th@ east of Waebebek. near@i@mouthofthest @@
I struck straight out ac iss the bay for -@yelli point, and the sea was comparatively smooth
till I drew near the @ou @ of t@e Waelll. $ seem to have been borne outward by the current.
At any rate, as I approa ed @aelli Point I heard the roar of @iptides off to my left, and in
a shor@ time the whole s i
was chop@y, theu@l I had paddled for shore and mad@ it in befor it deeper water, as it soon did. I hu@;ed th@ coast, talkin@ to a man
got too unpleasant in t @t the village was still there at Selmai, and that so was Corry. I
at Selwadu, who told my s. @he @aelli looked indeed fierce, with 8bout five ou@lets into
uas thankful for this n@ e @ater in the sea was fresh as I passed, so I washed my S@e@-
the sea at its mouth p on a canoe with two wemen in it from behind, and they told me
'here to land @@d called to Salem Alkatiri, who came down and helped me carry my canoe up
" asked ne about tools, @ d wanted an axe, a hand drill and bitts, He
under th@ trees. e tken for f4em I told him eiat I still needed the ones that I had @ooudlt,
and that I wasn't intend nœ to @0 to @mbon in %1e very near future. 1 carrlea my tMlngs u2 alone and @)t lost in t@ Selmainangan kebuns @here the trail wa@n't clear, bein@ even worse now tAan before. Anto wa n't t@ere this time, like she had been the two last times that I had arrived, @@lt Antji or wa i, one or the othtr of her dau@lters, and possibly both of them, mas. She led me uF past the h use@ to where the @usu2 grass starts, and I took it from tk@re.
The trail was a creek ju t about all th@ way to t@e @illage and into the @illage. I found the villa@e des@rted, an was smoulderin@ly infuriated when, just as I was about to enter the pastora@e, Kofi's son @"@ t d@c@ed in ahead of me to let Corry know I was comin@. @hat was just t@E kind of thin@ tkst Ildidn't wa@t. The door was sli@htly ajar, u@d by the time I reached
it Corry @as @u@re, and
sreeted her heartily. I was a little perplexed at rirst by the pre@iloro. You know, like when you look at someone that @s deformed,
"
sence oœ @artin lSahamas4 ]tst abo"t the time for lunch. and can't at first @u se @ to tell just what's tAe matter. It @as
@artin toQk me to b@@@@@ @@e- bathe throudl the mud to the swollen Selmai As I ate lunc@
I had already @e@@@-@e b @*q1 to s@nse that somethin@ was wronb' I had been lyin@ on Puan's bed while Corry prepared the table, and I could see half her back as she bent over to do sometœ@l@ or other. She i on an old, brown bilero-like piece of clo@@n@, and it had
@
stretched and s@run@en c t 0@ proportion so that it was loose around t@e waist and short in the bac@, and Corry @ad sunk n to the @@@ me@@@ state of morale where she didn't much care how
much of her we could se@ior how she looked. It would have been dif@erent if her clotj@n@ had been attractive. It was @lopp% l@re many a youn@ mot@ers mi@ht be. Corry had de@enerated. Then in our conversation,at t@e table I @ad felt somethi9; strange when I had sent out a feeler and vehtured to kid her )out Martin and she had said not unless he went to school first.
She as@ed @e to speak i@ th@ evesins service, so I had s@oken as best I could in my weari@ess fron t@e Lamentationss ;re it s@ys "@reatis thy faithfulness!"It was flat. @h@ conb."e3ation see@ed tired. I was hal @ to have my u@itar when I arr@ved toda3.
15. Saturday. Selmai. -
estin@ uD today. I s@e@@ shared my bed with @artin l@st night and didn't sleep well. Tod
Martin and Corry went to get sone thines includin@ a pair of my clotiin@, from Saulahin
While they were L@'ne I read and prayed and sou@ht the Lord. I felt a black cloud about the
lace, and prayed earnestly mid brokenly, wonderin@ @f Corry had @one
"
@
fallen into fornication. There was some sort oj a spirit about t@e the w@; 0@ the otherr y
r reFulsive tome. I was we@ping before the @ord, and maybe place that seemed a
back door open, and got up to @ind @artin had retarned, and @orry
"
cr@@in@,whenlheardth
;@e@ @@ubles
also came in soon after
So on throu@h @@e day. I complained about sl@epinand @artin said that h@
@Juldsleepelsew@eretonig@.@edid.
16. Sunday. Selma@.- CO
@@ @a@@œr sur@Lay a@uuul uB Mw mn uu@z -um@
*- "----@ "
on John's statemen t, "
e must incre@se and I must decrease" @n tne
mornln@ servlce.
I didn't go @@ee direct
y @ome, but wandered ovcr to Antonis' house
with my guitar to talk.
@oth Corry and @artin w
re @e@@- absent, and th@rc werc a 2lod many
there, I had asked
@@y%œ@@s@@"$
@,@%
@@
F.@
@@@N
@i
@@œ@@@@@'@@@"

JmE 19@1 I@x 1@ cod """d.-
held out for lon@.No@ I q @ quietly to the group and asked them wny corry alan @ nave a female companion to stay 1 th her. Then there was a change in the atmosphere and*I grew alarmed
and had them call Yakub before he would do so. of jesting, and couldn t
ris went for him, I had to t@ll Baris to leave two or thEee time@ Yakub sai@ that @ama @uth was like Bapa Temi and didn't like lots @ it. @hey @ad sent @ @ls AntjS and Baet or anothfr, I t@i@k) to
stay with her, but @artin Badarema, their farm shel had saayed with her const thinœs slowly over in my late @ft@rnoon. Corry had
ad beaten them. ?hey had tried to get her to stay 1 :th them at ( :r housesbut shehad returned to Selmai aftersome days. Eartin Itly. How shockin@ all this @ts to me! I went home and turned these .nd, determined not to act rashly. My opertunity came in the @one into her room to rest, and I sat alone at the @@@e@ table.
I calle@ to her softly an asked her to come. She got up and sat down across from me @t the table. I opened the whol@ tkin@ wide, @ellin@ her hhat one of hcr meidJers (it was Antonis,
but I didn't divulge t@,at had witnessed her and Martin embr'acin@ and kissin@. Then I asked her if she had commited forni ation with Martin Biloro, @utti4; the ques@ion very directly to her.
She denied outright, and t@at. I also told @er th started to spill th@ who down certain linfS that Y@S @11 right. I told he accusations @ge*s@ta a@ you midlt as well go al]
told h@r that I had to belie@e in her and trust her, so I accepted
I wasn't concerned with her affair with Martin, though she had
story. I told her that we stood on the Word, and the Word had laid
had to follow, but that lif she hadn8t transgressed the Word she
to be careful of the Devil, because it was like him to brinœ accusations st us and make us feel @uilty and say, "There, you're already in sin,
hf way!" we had to stand on the @ord, and if the @ord dldn't say
what we did was sin, the were livin@. So ran pitied her to have @)ne It was s@d to see a youn@ long@r dar@ w@at s@e 100
we had to believe that it wasn't, for it was y counsel. She was pale when I got doxe.
@ throu@h all th@t she had there (at Selmai @irl with her charm degenerated to the place ;d like. @0 find her there in the middle of a
by faith @@e@ that we I had to@d her how I with tears in my eyes. wher@ s@e didn 't any @@s mud@y bog that had
i been flood@d off and mos y on for over two months and mayb@ threei as she said t hat it had all
bestm tEat nibht before ; left wit@ @other. She had come home to the lonely house in the afttrnoon and leaned ag @ st that post in t@f kitchen @@d w@@@- so@bed. They had tried to com-
"
"
fort @er, @@t it did@'t Ip muc@. Sometines @he @ad sat for long periods alone on Mle threshold lookin@ o@t from the frm t door in tAo@@@t, @hen that ni@ht t@ey @ad all @one off and left her b@t for @artin ?erha?s, , d the de Satanic roar of the @aelli had my.nted in the ni@ht air. She @ad r*@@ed-@h@s@e@-@e* @ ptured h@r banks and spilled into ti@@ Selmai, and the Selmai in turn Aad co@e flooding up @n@ the viilaic. Corry lay on her bed in @ w grips of nalarial fever.
@er consciousne@s cbbed@ h@ rivcr roared. From Puan's bed she could see a bl@ck coffin entering by the front door, and s oPFins outside th@ dee@ uncurtained door of ti@e room, and on its
side
w@re printed the w@@te initials, "C.M." She rose 8:d @ebuked it, and pled thc blood dissappeartd. l@@m< to @ Sit@@n@ position, I mean). Sh@n she was able to @et up and walk
till it ;ahu@ She was
sh@ fo@nd th@ floor to @i no mor@ dirt, but mud. The next day she fled to Sa @
too Eick to take Imich c@*@ of t@@ t@in@s, but the natives took them @11 and carried the@ to Saulahin, She held servi es and taught in thc WaeBesm, WaeLahut, Saulahin area till the flomi s subsided eno,gh to r@t@ . She had had other attacks of malaria. She was out of pills and so
was the corporation t%at I had set up. She didn't return to the shore from @@e-@*@e that time s@e went down with @s to see us off, and she had lived near the water all her life.
Nartin was havinb somf wrrt 0@ troubles by the time it was time for the evenin@ service, for
he was in on@ of tue ot@@r houses praying like a dying calf. Corry had wanted to back out of l@adin@ the evenin@ ser@@ce in her shame, b@t i had @e@@-Ae@ later told her to @0 ahead and lead, as the people knew tkat I wouldn't let her lead if s@e we e in sin. @@-ge@-@@-@0 @ @ e@
I called softly to @ar@ as we passed outside of where he was prayin@, and he arrived a little aftcr us at the church. 1 t@f othfr @@mbers except for Oom 4 @s snd maybe his wife and a child or tow (Ithink t@at Barj was there) had gon@ to Badarema, the fa@n houses, with the promise t@at t@ey w@uld be bac'@ or t@e evenin@ servie@. None had shown up. The atmosphere was tense, but there was something hilarious about it that I couldn't fight in me. It was of course the sound of Martin's praying, which sounded every bit like he had commited the unpardonable sin
and would die. He seemed so shocked at his terrible self, or something. It was so grotesque! @@rins the first song I got the giggles. Corry asked me to pray the opening prayer and I had
to burst out giggling in the middle of it. I had so often been angry with people who giggled
in church. Everyone else was too dense to know what I was giggling about, except perhaps for Baris, who seems to have a better understanding of human nature than the rest. Corry later told me she thought it was something about a chorus or something. I had to bow my head many times
OE most of the time during the service, and try to keep a =rim outward appearance and hide my grinning mouth. I spoke pretty flat sermon on "The eons@nin@ flame of Love," from Solomon's song 8:6-7. The congregation was really too sTm@l@ anyhow, to make you feel like you were doing any good. The people had buttered me up today, and told me how they loved me because I
was struggling sincerely for the Gospel in Buru, etc. I know how vain these people are, and
how cheap their words are, but still it did me a little good.
I
@T -
	JUNE 1968. 17. Mond9
	17. Monday. Selmai.- I w @ed to @0 fishing today and artin wouldn't help me get my
	lise from Yakub's loft, @ "Because Yakub wasn't ther@, and he had lashed his house shut," But @verytkin@ went like lockwork as soon as Corry @ave the command. Yakub's kitchen door was open and Martin we+t i@ht in and climbed up and got my line for me. I rather dislike
"	Martin for this, but it s typical of Naluccans in their primordial darknes@ state. The psycholo@y behind it @-@-@@@ was probabl@ based on his fear that Corry's heart had once
	been or n08 was partly + s, and the thou dlt of me catchin@ fish and brin @in@ them home
"	to @orry, who had@A@-A@ @e@ hardly had any fish to eat since Ama left and might well lon@ f forAma at tAetasteof 'esh@ish, was too repulsive to@am. His level ofconsciousness iidn't permit him to be mest @ith himself and overcome his fears, so his actions became
	t@e direct r@sult of his fears. @e had not yet reacAed t@e spiritual level oi lisht where "Perfect love cast@th oj fear," but was still under the bonda@e of fear. It was a
	real job ever to @et to he beach with my heavy gear tArough all that water and mud. I had a len@th of small line whi @ i fasteded to 14y @lo Ib. line and trolled at the mouth of th@ @aelli with the lures I ed made, but the fish weren't eating excitedly that day, and I wa@ complete ly unsuccessful I trolled back and went on down to Air@uaja, leavin@ my canoe uld lines on th@ beach. The epala Ka@pon@ wasn t home, but Frai was. They had just celebrated @aulud or some suc@ t@in , and S@ai had been up all ni@it. I wou@d have gone bac@ to my
	canoe but he detain@d @e	and @ad some kids @0 and @et my @ear from th@ canoe, I had lunch of ice @;d @apeda and fried e@@s bith him. @hen he be@w@d to @0 to bed
	delicious u)at stew Eld the ni@ht before. Me mentioned the friction that had occured be-
	as h@ was too sleepy fr@ eople (He @ad struck Nartin, I believe) and said that he had not tween him @@d the Selmal i t@e Sekmai people for behavin@ like they did after havins me to cr@t@clzed ny teacnlng .Edit all offby sayin@, "@glateveryou said, it wasin angerlpanas), teach tdem. I just shru@ @ly." (About likf that . @ien we were sittin@ in the front andnot to be taken sert , ..ouraboutme stealin@theplate ati@@na, andl had told him that roo@ he had brou@ht up tnat wa@ at @iloro, and that I kad not heard a e @ nœ a@out it in
	the first I had heard just spo@en ?@rsonally to Unang-tama, wha had been imFlicated as South %uru, th@ubk I h to @teal thc plate for ne Sometimes these Muslims get under
	the @an U;at had paid - ,
	my skin! @ yQuns Musli who was a Lesnusa led me to the barbcr's house but he wasn't home. @hen @e went on pu inlan to a ceme@t house whcre a @an kept shop, and I found the lin@ I had come to buy. It was tAe @le as that @@rtin had bought for me, the one roll costinb @p@O. @y store*eeper evidently @ n't @aware, f@r he now asked @5. I bargained 4 rolls for Rpl2J and he @ave them to me. It said "60 Ib.", but it was beyond a do@bt much less. I couldn't find any
"	of @i@finer "501b," @ t @nali$ed to use fortrace. "@ talked awhile and thenreturnedto Frai's. @h@re I got the irst roll tan@led as I tried to wind my new line off onto my Sottle,
"	and the kids or a youn@ n helped me to tiet it untangled and they took it from t@@re and rew@u@d the wholc busine@@ for me. I chatted S@ in friendly terms with the children, and they @@rtold legends abc t A@a. How he had let his pants slip down while he was cnasing the
komu and didn't care. T the ori@Tnal 50 or so, for him had arrived at

	number of fish he had caught in one trolling had grown to 118 from d the number he had .:ven to the boy who tied them up in strings @lteen. I don't really profess to know how many he u @e for this.

	I didn't @ant to w@ e @rai, and the other adults had left, so I sneaked quietly away
	i	when the weather @as e@ @1- clear. I think it rained this afternoon (m am writin@ at a later date - I was carel ;s in the surf, supposins it to be too smail to aeserve my care, ulu
	got my clothes doused in brine. Thet was at Selmainangan when I arrived back. I for@ot to mention that many child ;n went down to my canoe with me to see me off, one even carr@ing
	my big 200 Ib. line for e. @n the way I remembered that we needed some salt fish if I
	didn't catch anything, tt they told me t@at the place wher@ they sold it was back inland
	again, and I @hought it as 00 much trouble. I bid the children farewell as I paddled away. They had heard by now 0 how @ had paddled alone around Buru. I met Cor on the path home. She had gotten worried Id come to look for me. She almost reached the shore @ the first time in months, but I arrive too soon, As we went back we found @artin had follow @. I believe
	it was late tonight, af ;r Martin had gonf to sleep at Antonis' or somewhere that I had spok@n through the light parti Dning "wall" from where I lay on Pw@@e Puan's bed to Corry wher@ she lay on her own bed. I h : decided that she needed to get,away from it all and that I had business that shouldn't ait in @amlea and that I couldn t leave her here like she wa@, so
	I should take her with e. @-e@ske-@@*@- I asked her to eome with me, and she quickly agreed. She was light and I cou d td@e her ri@ht in my canoe with me. I was gettin@ restless
	about @oin@, and though I had promised to wait and eat their padi temak with them, yet I wasaboutreadytoleav without iftheykeptputtin@i@off.@heywerehuntin,,formeat fort*eir feast, and h n'tbeen successf'ul except for adeerthat@homashad gotten a few
	days before; @+ @@erh @@@@-w@s-a@@@@n@@?*@@4@B@ Yakub had a8fe and I had spoken to him privately on Oom A@ls' p rc4 sittin@ with him on the de@o@ and told him about my interview
	with Corry and our sta on the questions of courtship and marriege. I asked him to Fass on
	the information to the AG@@,others. He left a@ain for Badarema. Yakub's wife had
	brought @orth a baby 1 iust a couple of weeks before, and all had been well but she had

Tuesday, June 17, 1968, Selmai.- I didn't go fishing today as I have to preach tonight. My plan is to
leave for Namlea tomorrow. During the day however people cane and said that the firstfrui
feast would be held tomorrow and they all begged me to stay, so I d*@ gave in. They came
from Badarema to the evening service and I spoke about the wheat and the tares, but there was
aeL ,,
he had boiled corn with me in the morning, and they brought (@@ais' wife) the corn yesterday.
18.
After some boiled corn for breakfast we left for Badarema. Thomas and others had gone on ahead and had bidden us not be long. Yakub had missed the service last night.
We went to Badarema via the Selmainangan village to avoid the mud on the other trail. Badarema isn't really far, but it's the way the trails are cut, so round-about. I give up with these people, who never make any attempt to better themselves but just accept everything as it comes! At the strean near Semai @ we the Selmainangan houses, where we forded, we came up on an old blind man and his comparatively good-looking young wife, and I was interested to see how he
got on, being still a little better off than he myself. He was carrying a burden on his back and had a staff and they were giving him directions. We passed them and I asked if she had married him willingly, and received the reply that he had used guna2, and that he had had
(I have forgotten the actual number Nartin said about 70 women in his lifetime. I immediately realized that such a thing would be impossible for a blind man, and told them so.
The blind man was supposed to be "Sidang" but had a mouth red from betelnut chewing.
The morning was bright and fair enough. We had had to wait for Corry who had been slow on the way down, at least according to Martin, but once we got across the wae Selmai we were on
higher ground and made better time through the comparatively dry alang2 grass, with only a patchor two of mud in the distance that yet remained. We arrived at Kofi's house first,
and there we went down to the stream and washed the mud from our legs and feet. Then we went on to Thomas' house, and it was there that the cooking was taking place. It was a
walang without walls. Sad a couple of dego2s, one now being used to cook on, and a @@@@e .
' long table at one end. Above the dego2 that ran
along the side of the house away from the streu t@@ one that we used to sit upon, was a room with a bark floor and a ladder leading up into
it from outside. I clinbed up heartily to inspect, joking with Oom Thomas about @*s- t@as house he had boasted to me of, wi@ there sitting on the door, evidently winnowing the rice.-was again, was @ama @lth. I was staggered by her spirit, for she wept when she took my hand. We
had prayed, but she had maintained the si@Jlicitv all along. She spoke about how I had circled Buru in my canoe, and had words of admiration and praise, where I was in œ light mood, @i@err
I couldn't manage to take myself seriously. I also spoke to her about the flood and @ow I had
" Euppo@ed@hatallmusthavebeenlost,butt@eLordhadspared
@;e@rrice,etc. I could now understand why Corry couldn't stay at Badarema. Maybe she was guilty of trying always to get alone with Martin, but to life in a place like that was another thing. She later told ne that
she had been ed burdened constantly with having to doo@ there, and that the children had been
in the habit of colvon@ wld taking food out of the pot with dirty hands, etc. That must have been another factor too, for I myself find it ever so di@ficult to live with the lower races. Like Andi's wife, who kept me kitchen looking like a pig-sty and worse, and who chomped like
a pig as she ate slopily with her hands. Puan was a different story, but even she had grated on Mother after awhile. The Chief of WaeNibe arrived at Kofi's house and was here to ask about
copra. I saw him there when I rouned up that way a little later. I spoke briefly to him and
got up again, feeling that I was like ice to their convsrsation. By that time we had had a
first serving to tide us over until the main meal. Late in the afternoon everything was finally ready. Yakub had come and sat on the dego2 and chr@ted for the @omen to hurry because we were hungry. The Chief of WaeNibe (known as Matgugul Nalbesi) had come and sat near me too. Then Mama Ruth chanted a kabata that drew our tears about the leading of the Lord to the original 5 families, and the harvest, and the fine and lowly way. At the table they asked me to
pray, and I did so, but rather superfluously, I felt, after Ruth's inspired chant and prayer.
I had expected them to ask me to speak, and was preparing myself, but they didn't, and it was okay by me. We ate silently, and i thought to tell the Chief of @@ WaeNibe that we were honored to have him there, or something to that effect. There wasn't a healthy, relaxed atmosphere there like there should have been. Corry and Martin and then Corry had been absent from us for long periods. Corry was absent when it came time to eat, and I was informed that she had had an attack of chill, and was lying down over in one of the huts across the stream. We ate without her, but Martin ate lightly. I had about three plates of rice. Two coconut milk rice and one plain. Also a "balik" of papeda. The trimmings were what fell short. It was not too bad, though. Meat and dendeng cooked in coconut milk. The greasy coconut milk in everything made it all too rich, though. After the meal I went across the stream to see Corry. Baet and @@@tji, I believe, smiled at me in a way that was too much for their ages and ducked inside a house to the right. I supposed that Corry were lying there, but she wasn't. I went out again and Corry approached, smiling sheepishly, from a hut that kquld

JUNE 1968. 18 continued.-
Wam@mboli to the coast, and was @@e@@ going to Rana to do so. I told Kofi that the whole
thing was beyond my control, and that if Matgugul Nalbesi succeeded it must be the will of
the Lord. I briefed him on the advantages and disadvantages of moving to the coast, and
explained how I personally disliked the idea, as it was a tactic of the Wamlana Government to
isolate the heathen from the Gospel. Kofi had had a relapse of his bleeding nose trouble.
By the time that Eorr@ arrived and we left for home it was too late to take her down and try
her in the canoe to see how it floated, It was night when Martin, Corry, Baris and I arrived at
the pastorate. Baris went to pray about it and then uent on th his home to ask for permission
to come with us. I prayed for him too, but not earnestly enough i fear. Baris didn't return.
For some reason that night I was determined to stay up and chaperone, and it was late for
our tired bodies before we all got to bed. Corry had prepared some provisions for us, and we
i
had eaten some more rice in the night, brought home from the feast. The real Buruese often
send food from the feast home with the guests. Corry had been reluctant to go these past
S*ew.@a few days, but was facing up to the journey, and s@e@ since Baris didn't return I left
my sail and other objects to lighten the canoe.
19. Thursday. Selmai-Waenibe.- It was already bright daylight ere we had eaten something and
were on our Nay to the canoe. Martin came with us and prepared a gaba2 seat for Corry with his
parang. Perhaps he was not a little upset, for he unthinkingly hurried the canoe into the water
and Corry into the canoe when he was done, all without a traditional Christian parting
prayer. I told Corry not to sit down at first, as the surf was a little rough. We wade it out
okay, though, and Corry didn't get wet. Martin stayed on the beach as we paddled away, and
I shouted him to build himself a house there. He later walked after us, and then we were past
the little point and he was out of sight to Corry. I had walked in front when we had left
the house, sinj@lb9 and they had lingered far behind, probably "because Corry was slow in
the mud" @e@in. Youth! We passed Airbuaya a little way out so that we probably weren't
very noticeable from the shore. Corry told me the story of her conversion as paddled.
The canoe was heavy with her in it, but we made good time and the sea was glassy smooth except
for a swell that was running. Corry got seasick before we had reached Wamlana, so we put
in at a pleasant beach, and at my suggestion we had a bite to eat, though it was still early,
and after that Corry walked and I paddled along the beach near her. She had vomited, but felt
better after eating, and she is a very fast walker. I took her aboard again before we
reached the mouth of the Wamlana, and we got yelled at nastily by a group sitting under a tree
(Corry said that they were), so with her consent I headed my canoe far out to avoid Wamlana.
was still remembering the trouble I had had at Biloro, and the slander of that young man who
had said that I was wanted at Wamlana, and I had no intention of getting caught in a similar
scene now. We passed an oncoming canoe on our port side, and the fisherman in it greeted
me kindly, and spoke more soothingly. As soon as we were past Wamlana the east wind came up in
force, and the sea was soon hissing, and we were making for the beach. There I let Corry
off to walk again while I paddled against the pressure of the wind. Thus we passed Waspait
and continued all the way up to near the mouth of the WaeNibe. The wind was so strong that I
even had a hard time to keep up with Corry. Especially if I tried to troll, as I did.
I called to her to e@e@@1 look for a place to stop as we approached the point where the Wae
Nibe empties into the sea, and when she had called the place I drifted way back down the
beach while I rolled in my line. It was a delightful place that we stopped at. There was a
big old log under the shady trees, and there we opened our provisions and ate, and talked, and
i fell asleep with my head on the log and she lay herself down and rested on the sand a little
distance away. It was as romantic as a novelist's wildest dreams there, to have a smiling, dark ,
little island girl for company, and the wind, and the seascape! I wasn't in love with Corry. It
was just life. Ny life had its own picturesque bright spots, and this was one of them, and I
was enjoying it. Along toward evening I wasn't ready to set out yet and I told her so, but
at Corry's bidding we set out once more through the surf and out into the rocking sagging,
s@@n@.ng swells. Water was coming in and Corry wanted to turn back. I said I had told her so,
but since she had wanted to try it she should stick with it. I couldn't see the waves properly,
and that was very upsetting to me, as I had found that Corry is not used to the sea, and didn't
know what the surf w@@ was. I could begin to see the breakers on the bar myself as we drew
near. There was a fisherman and he told us to go out farther. I tried to get Corry to help
but she was frightened and didn't know what to expect. I struck out for deeper water. The
riptides were fierce but not breaking. At least not breaking much. Some people on the shore
laughed at us and it cut me @@w@rde innards to hear them. Corry had lapsed into panic and I
couldn't trust inforMation I got from her anymore. She was gripping both front outriggers
with either hand and only wanted me to head for shore. She didn't understand what that could have
meant just then. I myself was torn between my wariness of the surf to starboard and the
riptides to port and the amount of water in the bottem, and sinking there with Corry was
about the last thing in the world that I wanted to do. In a little while we were past the
danger, and I wanted to put in to shore and let my panic-stricken little bird alight, but findig
the surf to be still too heavy I paddled on with her to the village, where we arrived at dusk.
After pulling the canoe far up into the weeds Corry led me into the village and a woman
who happened to be there led us up to the Guru LatuDerisa's house.
JUNE 1968.
19, continued.-
The guru and his wife were glad to see us, it seemed, and received us happily. They fed us
ripe tangerines and they were delicious! also bananas. The evening meal was rice, papeda,
and grated green papaya vegetable with cured turtle meat cooked in it.I
wasn't very hungry after all the provisions I had eaten to œuiet my nerves as we waited for
the wind to die down on the beach before we got to the mouth of the WaeNibe this afternoon.
The Guru had to urge me. Mataheru of the military was there indulging in some sort of trade,
which is illegal for the military, if I remember correctly. Soti of my trip with Puan also
came in for a moment. He was hauling tangerines to Djiko Marasa. I told Latuperisa and
Mataheru about my trouble at Biloro. Later in the evening I testified to Latuperisa again, and
it seemed to be sinking in. I slept on the dego2 in the sitting-room, beside the table. I
had chills and fever that night. Wo, maybe it was only fever.
20. Priday. Waenibe to Silimai.
Corry called to me several times from near my pillow, but
i didn't grasp what was happening till she had gone back into the kitchen. Then I answered her.
She had gotten up early and prepared hot water. It was fully daylight when we left, but I
don't know what time. The sea was smooth, and I struck out for WaePoti point, passing the
village a good way out to sea. Corry had had in her mind that Waepoti was on the other side
of the point, and I couldn't seem to @et across to her in her tangled language that it was
on this side. Malay can be so cumbersome! There were fish, Corry said, as we were passing
Waepoti Point. We got out my line and trolled, and I went farther inshore toward the rocks
to get in the area where Corry had seen them. I had worried about passing this point, but
the water was glassy smooth this morning. My lures were appearantly worthless. I caught
nothing. As we passed Waeprea harbor there was a school of komu jumping inland, and when I
saw that they were not far I gave chase. They vanished just as we were about to reach them
though, and it seemed that a fisherman that had the same purpose in mind as I said something
about it being something to do with me. probably some superstitious con@cction, or humourous,
or something. We crossed his tail and then overtook him on our port side. Corry said that he
had an unfriendly attitude. We came to a little stretch of @tee@ sand that formed a
beach in anong the rocks after we had passed Cape Batunuhen. There we landed and went our
ways to relieve ourselves and had a bite to eat. It was a beautiful spot and a beautiful day,
and I had a smiling island girl for company, and I knew it was one of the bright spots in my
life. So different from the lonely toil of my solitary journeys. This was indeed a picnic trip.
Corry didn't get sick today. I was a little weak from the night's fever, but wasn't doing badly.
The pago2, we found, on our right outrigger, *@ the after one, was no longer ri@ @, and looked
just about ready to give way. As we drew nearer to Hatawano we passed women fishing
with rods in the bright sunshine, standing in the water or on the rocks. The east wind was @@
already in force by the time we reached Hatawano, and we just managed to make it in with our
disintegrating pago2. A man named Achmad Hukul or Hokal, of A@il@l@! Larike came and
helped me with the canoe, and asked if he could use it to fish with if I was going to leave it!
That was exactly what I wanted, to find someone quickly to take care of it for me. I made him
promise not to let others use it. Told him that it would be all right if only one man used it
but that otherwise it wouldn't last. I also showed him the worn-out pago2 and he promised to
repair it. He spoke in a hearty manner. We walked on and started to refresh ourselves at
that stream in the di@. At Namsina we found a large group of men sitting out under the trees along the way. I didn't know it then but Corry later told me that they had just returned from
a burial. They insisted that we stop and chat with them, and were so friendly that we
couldn't very well resist. They had gotten chairs for us and I sat with the men under one tree,
while Corry sat with another group that had women and children under another tree.
I testified when the conversation led into an oppertunity, and told them about John the Baptist.
"He must increase and I must decrease." They had been commenting in that taunting, praising moluccan manner on my sufferings for the sake of the Gospel here. There was one man who
seemed to lead the others in conversation, and he said that he had been to Singapore, and had
worked for some years with the Americans in Mew Guinea. It must have been true, as he knew
place names within the city, and seemed like he had been around a little. They were so friendly
to us that my heart went out to the people of this village where I had often been insulted by
youths or children in the way before. I feel my understanding is improving, and my tolerance of humanity. At the Sanalagi I carried my tin across first and then went back for Corry. The stream was not deep, nor was it too swift. We forded her at the beach, and there was
heavy surf and whitecaps out to sea.  We didn't stop in Samalagi or WaeUra, as we were late
after being held up at @ix Namsina. In my mind was developing the idea of evangelization,
serious evangelization, intensive evangelization by outrigger canoe. You have to find a place
to spend the night if you travel by outrigger unless you want to sleep on the beach, and you have to get food from the villages to continue. The villagers all understand this from ages
of experience, and are hospitable to wanderers and travellers, and interested in their stories.
The idea of taking a small fleet of canoes and evangelizing Buru and, perhaps first, Seram, was forming. As I write now, in July, the urge has developed to use this technic on Seram,
j uow. It was brought home to us again how very far it is from WaeUra to Waeplau. Fortunately the weather was overcast.  we passed right through Waeplau without stopping, and
Corry did better at path-finding than Puan, as we never lost our trail all the way to Budin's.

As we approached the house I let Corry go ahead of me. As we had heard Budin was sick, when I
arrived he came out to greet me with tears in his eyes. At least with the sniffles. I was
perhaps too weary to feel emotion. I was dry. I was sick, really, @@@-@ and it began to hit
me when I had sat down. I bathed at the stream. if I remember correctly there was no
meat for supper.
21. Saturday. Silimai.
Resting up from my weariness. Jan@a and @anton@ arrived from Lanahang
somewhat @long in the middle of the day. There seems to be something different about the
Spirit of Silimai this time. I thought that it must be because of Budin's sickness.
Musa--a relative of M@kibo's--and his wife Safina were s@$ staying at Budin's house too.
In the late afternoon I went out back, taking a chair with me and sat under the papaya tree
reading my Bible. I heard a huff and a puff and footsteps, and Lesan was behind me wanting
to "sehati" (shake hands) because he had found a large deer in his trap, which he was carrying
now on a pole, already cut up. I felt thankful that the Lord had provided for me @gttn, as
Budin had told me that they had laid about 1@0 snares in the area but none had been successful
yet. This was evidently from one of them. I had become increasingly aware of the word
bukan after transcribing Budin's story about the @@@e@ Babirusa-man. Now, as Lesan went on his
way, Musa stood with his arms folded and said,"Bukah hai@." It turned out that Lesan had
been lazy about looking after his traps, and this big beautiful deer had been left to rot.
Now Lesan was taking it home to eat anyway, and wanted to "sehati" with me about it!
The blessing was certainly timed for me, but they had failed to believe enough to check their
traps regularly! Corry has always been one for strange Meats, and she was up in the
kitchen tonight boiling the rotten deer meat that they had brought from Lesan's house. @as
Lesan hadn't intended to give us our share until tomorrow, but Bapa Budin had raised a little
strife about it and they had gone to get it this evening. The stench was foul.
After boiling it they broiled it late into the night. I said I would eat my kasbi with
salt tomorrow, but someone had sent us a piece of pork!

Sunday, June 22, 1968.
Corry led the morning service w@l@ spoke on 1 Tim 4, and falling frn@
@@Qs@r the faith, illustrating faith with a nail, which @ould be driven into either firm or
loose substances. I "hammered" so hard and shook m@lln's poor old house till dirt began to
fall from the thatch on people. Then I realized what was happening and became more mild.
I didn't taste of the rotten deer, though Corry did. I simply refused out loud before I was
even offered any. 'de @@ia little pork, thouv@ Corry @ndl ate atthe little table, whereas

!
@ @ otA@rs ate up @n the kitchen. In the evening service I led and Corry spoke on Christ
being the same yesterday, today, and forever, from Hebrews. There was a certain tightness
of the Spirit in both services, and I noticed that many seemed to be absent. I was a little
upset when Corry said that Santi's mouth looked like she had been eating betelnut, and Budin
said it was true. Santi and her mother were both still in the habit. I said that if I had
known it I wouldn't have baptised Santi.By now I had forgotten a good deal of what had happened
or been said back when I baptisdd them that time Mother was here though. As Budin and
I talked, either tonight or last night, I thought that I sensed that I would some day have
difficulties with him on the marriage barter business. All was smooth on the surface, but I
just seemed to sense it. They told me that a couple of days before I arrived Budin had
chanted (@@satai that he would never see me again He was sick. I had an attack of malaria
chills that lasted late into the night, and then fever.

Monday, June 23, 1968, Silimai - WaePerang.
I kept waiting in bed for them to call
me to breakfast so that we could be on our way. Corry had come and asked me if I were able to
go after being sick, or something to that effect. From there on I had been trusting her to be
seeing that they were getting something ready, or if not to tell me or something. But the sun
kept getting higher and higher and when nothing seemed to happen I said to Corry, " Let's go!"
Well, Makibo had gone off to the kebuns for something, and no one acted like they had the faintest
idea we might be wanting to leave. They said that they thought I was too weary and wasn't going
to go after all or something. I was getting a little hot under the collar about then. They got
something on the table quickly and we had a bite and left, Lesan following to the main trail
and carrying my tin for me. As we walked Lesan told me in Buruese that they Lesan,
were displeased with Budin. He would have to wait till now to tell me that
Weso, and Agu
something was wrong! They wanted Andi and Budin wouldn't have him. Not only that But
Budin had spoken harshly to them, telling them that if they didn't want to hold to the true
Principles of religion th@t they mid @ as well not have any religion. I didn't know how he
happened to say this to them, and realize that it could fit into any munber of contexts. So !
Silimai was split up! Many things had been happening, and my distaste for the south
Buruese grew and grew. Before I mentioned BapaTemi's trouble with Martin to him, Budin had told
me that he had heard that Martin had told Saratan that it was too hard for a young man to tow
the spiritual mark. Martin hadn't even stopped at Budin's house on the way home, but had gone
directly to Saratan's, and on from there. Saratan was also a South Buruese. Obed, another
@@@$r@@@"@@e@%@$@@@"@ ?@@"@œ$@@F Q @ @@N@A rs @@@e@y@% @ AG @9w%ithat
xxx
JUNE 1968 2@ continued.-
There were two letters at Lesnusa's house for me, Lesan said. The other was from Andi Solissa
My mind raced to fit this new series of data into my overall stock of information as I walked
along with Corry, and I was talking out loud, something that one shouldn't do with most
Indonesians, as they don't understand the processes of reasoning something out like that, and
are apt to dispise you for it. I almost wanted to wait for Budin at Waeplau, as he was
to come down later today to try to get medical help. then I could have talked everything out
with him and perhaps made some sense of it. I had long felt that Lesan wasn't very
bright. This thought inferiorated me a little now, thinking that Andi had turned the wek and
stupid ones against Budin. None of them had given anything toward the building of the church
except for the pittance they might have placed in the offering whereas Budin, an old and weak
man physically, had given of his all, and done the whole thing himself. At Lamahang
Corry and I had a glass of kofi-susu at the warong. We stopped at the Guru's house, but
Lesnusa wasn't there, and his wife couldn't find the letters. I stood outside and waited. Then
we went on and down at the waterfront part of the road she stopped at Pauno's house and spoke
to his wife while I stood and waited at the fence. We walked on to Waeperang where we entered
the house of the raja of Liliali's house, and I visited with him all afternoon and evening
and we spent the night. He had previously invited me to stop at his place when I came through
again, and now it was convenient for @e. as Corry and I would otherwise have an awkward
time trying to find somewhere to spend the night. They assured us that there was no truck
leaving from Sawa, so it was probably useless to go on. Corry and I had no lunch, but a lovely
supper with the raja and his wife. They sat me at the inland end of the table with the raja
on my left and his lady on my right, and Corry on his lady's right. The radja's house
faces on the large ball field, a@ and in the late afternoon we had sat on the verandah
looking out across it as the children played silat games, clapping their hands in rythm and
cheering, etc. There was a casuarina tree to our left which sang in the breeze. The raja
had talked politics all afternoon long. In the early evening, after I had bathed but before
supper, he had gotten out his little Phillips 'Z-6" radio and played around with it as we
sat on the varandah. Then he had handed it to me and left for something or other. perhaps to
bathe. Corry got a little neglected, sitting on a chair behind us on the varandah most
of the time, and didn't say much till the raja had gone, when she spoke quietly to me. I got
FEBC and she enjoyed the church songs. No one had helped to show her to the bath, so she had--typical of Corry--born it in silence. There wasn't much I could do for her, as she was a
little out of place in this fast@er company, and to try to fit her in when she didn't fit in
would only have served to make matters worse. It wasn't till in the late evening that
the raja and I sat alone at the oil lamp and studied his Muslim religious books and talked
about principles. The cocks had already crowed once ere we parted company for our
beds. The house was silent, and I liked his hi@ house, because it was silent even while it
was yet day, but for the ball field across the road. It was a place where one could study, and
the raja was fond of books. I liked him.

Tuesday, June 24, 1968.  Waeperang - Namlea.
We left the radja's house after a hot drink and a slice or
two of cake from the festivities that were on as@in last night. The night before, they told
us, the party had lasted all night. last night they were hard at it but it was all held a
good distance away from the radja's house, so that things were quiet there. When they had come
and told him of their plans to hold another night, in a passive sort of way a young man had
mentioned it, the raja had said something about equivelant to the English word, "again?!"
We walked all the way to Sawa, and there I stopped at BenSeang's store to ask about the
truck, but it wasn't leaving till late in the afternoon. I chatted with the men there for a
few moments, and then Corry and I went on till we were stopped by the
Adrian Naruanajas. They wanted to talk with us, and we visited with them and were served hot
tea and peanuts. After awhile we took leave of them and walked on to Djiko Merasa. There we
entered Soti's house and found that Soti had already arrived home with his load of tangerines
and just left today for more. There was still a good east wind. We asked to buy some tangerines
but they were all sold out by then. I forgot to mention that on the way into the village,
after we had entered the village, to be exact, we met the Army truck and asked them when they
were returning and they said it wouldn't be long and that we could wait for them.
At Soti's house we were received well and were served tea and peanuts and smne tangerines
that were too small to sell, and served very soon after the man of the house had come out to
meet us. It was at this house that Puan spent the night that time on her way to Airbuaya
when she hailed me on the truck @oin@ to get her at N@@ea. They seemed eager to hear
more about the things of God, and wanted to talk. After the meal we sat and testified,
and I felt that I was doing well. While we were still talking there was the
sound of the Army truck on its way back. They hurried us, telling us that we would have to
hurry if we wanted to get on -that truck! Hurry is right! I don't think that I have ever
made the trip between DJiko and Namlea in a shorter time! I was sitting down on an empty
gunnysack in the back and picturesquely speaking, just about got my guts shaken out of
I was glad to be moving instead of taking forever like most of them do. Glad, that is,
JUNE 1968. 24 continued. -  JULY 1968.
until they told me that our dashing young Menadonese Lt had been drinking!
He wouldn't wait up long on people, and they had gotten wise fast! I have never seen Buruese
hustle like this before! It was almost heartening! We were in Namlea before too late
in the afternoon, and Corry was a little mad at me for disembarking near the p.O.,
but I wanted to see if it were open. From there I went ahead of Corry and stopped at the telegraph office, @ Kriekhoff said that there was a cable from Ambon saying that someone
or other had a @ved but he had misplaced it and would find it and give it to me tomorrow.
The PO had been closed. We tidied up and Corry went and got something for supper at Wowor's.
That night she slept at either Maruanaya's or , no, I feel sure it must have been i@bin
Tasidjawa's. Thus began our days here at Namlea. I am writing this on the 10th of July.

June 25th to the 10th of July 1968, Namlea.
During this time I spent long hours at the typewriter
catching up on my diary and, much less, on correspondance. I hope to compile a work of some
sort, some day, perhaps on Buru, but if not, then at least an Autobiography. My recent
trip around the island has made me far more familiar with all the areas. I have now been
once through the center of the island and once around it. I am perhaps the first to paddle
so far in a one man canoe, mostly alone. I have paddled my canoe all the way round Buru
with the exception-regrettable exception--of that little stretch of beach between Walwawat
Point and the village of WaeMulan. Here in Namlea the weather has been mostly sunny all
this time, except for some nightly showers during the first part of our stay. We found
the place all grown over with weeds and I worked a little at a time for several days before
I could thresh them all down. Nothing was stolen in the house, but we found the back window--
the one by my bed--unlocked. How that could be I do not know, but I doubt that I could have
been so absentminded as to leave it so. There was no mail whatsoever for me at the p.O., and
boat after boat has come into port without bringing any mail. So it goes here, when you think
that you can rely on the mails, about that time the boats quit bringing mail altogether. I
made my report to the police about the Biloro case the first or second day after our arrival.
My money was running very short, but I spent freely in faith. I had borrowed a magazine
from the raja of LIliali late that night that had the geneologies of the Sultans of Ternate,
Tidore, Djailolo and Batjan in it. During the first couple of days or so I was busy copying
out passages and the geneologies. On the morning of Thursday the 26th, along toward midday,
the "Sangsuria" entered port. Corry went down to see what was to be seen, and who should be
aboard but Ama and Kade! Kade was on her way to Wahai and Ama on his way to North Buru!
We talked and talked. Corry had once mentioned how all of the Uneputis talked too much. I hadn't payed particular attention, but with Kade here today I saw that she was entirely right,
at least in Kade's case. It was interesting to hear her story though. She had stayed with
another brother on Japen (Yapen) Island, north of New Guinea for a long time and told stories
about there and New Guinean experiences. She had brought home all kinds of goodies. Dozensof
tins of milk, ovaltine, and other luxuries, and they had all arrived just in time for Ama to
benifit by them. His body was back to normal again, and he said that he had felt so for two
weeks now. He had even brought in four tatihu in one day, and sold two of them in Ambon for
Rp@,OL@! Later in the afternoon Ama took Kade back to the boat. I didn't put myself out
to go along. Kade had bathed, had lunch and rested some on my bed. I had seen the raja of Liliali near the P.O. that morning or sometime after the boat arrived, I believe, and I
had asked him to come to my house and get his magazine. He arrived while Ama was still gone
and Corry got the hot water on and went and bought some peanuts and ripe bananas and made coffee for us. By that time Ama had returned and gotten out
a can of his sweetened condensed milk and I had to go back and open it because they didn't
know how to use the can opener. Then Corry used up about half the can, not knowing that only
a little in each cup was sufficient. Anyhow, we had a good visit, and the raja stayed till
dark looking at my books and talking. On Friday, the 27th, Ama left by truck Fe@ on his
way to Airbuaya and Selmai. He didn't get off with the truck till about noon, and I met him
again down in front of GAPIP and he followed me and I shook his hand,after telling him that
there were malaria pills in Corry's trunk, and told him that wherever he was not to forget that I would be praying for him. I had forgotten to tell him about the pills, and had been
a little worried lest he come down with the fever in the jungles somewhere where he couldn't
get help. He is of the Devil may care attitude that he won't get sick, but I have had too
many experiences to buy that sort of thing anymore. He slept at Nortje Haumahu's at
Waeplau that night, and there he borrowed a gun. Next day he arrived at Selmai.
He had left us another can of milk, and wanted to give us some sugar but Corry was foolish
enough to say that we already had some and didn't need any. Fortunately Ama himself
offered to be@rew lend me a thousand rupiahs. When he turned up with the money, however, he
had @@JI,OOO! I told him I hoped that he wouldn't mind, but that I very much needed a lamp,
and now for the first time they were selling beautiful table lamps with shades for only Rp503
each! I wanted to buy one before they were sold out. Then I went and bought one with a pastel purple-pink plastic shade. It made a beautiful light, and I was so happy that I would
now be able to work better at night. I could even see furniture in the room! The lamp
leaked, and I took the base back and exchanged it and the second one still leaked, so I had

to do just what the salesman had brazenly suggested, that is, take it to have it
soldered at the seams. I was fool enough to leave it with the solder man without
getting a price first. When I returned in the afternoon he said Rp150! Over the price
of the lamp! Ten bottles of kerosene could have leaked through it before equalling this
price paid to keep from loosing money on kerosene leaked out! There was no way out
except to cause a scene, and I didn't want to do that, so I paid and left. I told Corry to really watch it, though and if it leaked in the least I would take it back. It didn't, though, and we are still @@tting fine service out of it every night. On the afternoon of Wednesday, July 1rd, I had a dictionary in my hand and was standing behind the front door when
B@@ from outside came the sound of a very familliar voice. It was Kofi (Kefas) Leslesi. He said that Ama had given him Rpl,@)@ for his fare, and that he was going to Ambon to get
medical help for his internal nosebleeding sickness, whatever it may be. He talks with a funny twist to his Fs, and must have something blocking inside his head. He has almost died of nosebleed a couple of times. I overheard him say that when I wanted to take him he hadn't felt right to go, but this time he had felt right and so had come. He had come with Agus i'"" (AJU) and Gomu (antonis), his son, and they had returned to sleep at
Namsina or Samalagi after getting Ama's things at Waeperang.
r.J.r Kofi said that Yakub had
led the services on Sunday and Ama had spoken. The next day, the @th, the Sangsuria arrived in
port early in the night. Corry and Kofi went to see it, but, of course, Letelai was
not aboard. It was from North Maluku, and was to leave the next day, but on Friday they
were beginning to talk in uncertain terms. It didn't leave, and they were out making trial runs
with the engine during a good part of the day, which upset Kofi a little, who was worried
that he would miss his ride. He had never been off of Buru or the surrounding sea in his life!
Corry took him to the boat for the umpteenth time and he sailed out in the afternoon.
Corry went down to the point to watch until the boat was far away.

On our 2nd Sunday here, the 7th, Corry had finished her shopping and was busying herself about the house when I asked if we weren't going to worship at all today. She stopped and came and sat down, and we sang some songs and I read a chapter of Proverbs and a Psalm. We were going to close with
kneflin prayer when Haji Mochdar arrived with a little bundle in his hand, and with little
Nurlaya, who was strangely quiet at my house. I invited him straight back to the bedroom
kitchen-dining-room where we had been in the course of our worship. I had closed the front
door behind him and brought in a chair for him, but he had already sat himself down on
the bed. He had left his little bundle on the table in the front room. I sat at the table
(he had understood that we had been worshipping when he entered)
and opened my Bible, my mind racing to a fitting place to read from. I thought of his fondness
d combinations of words, so I opened to Proverbs 18, and let Corry read the
for sayings
a i @> about our mission and it';
chapter to us. Then I prayed and formally closed the service, pras
being the last time (end time , etc. When I had closed in AMEN, the Haji repeated AMEN,
and that was that. Corry went into the next room and saw the little bundle on the table and
felt of it and said that it was two hot, fried fish. He had asked, during the course of our
conversation which had followed after the end of theœworship, if Corry had bought fish, and
she said that she had. Haji Mochdar spoke to me about what I might need, in my shortness
of money, and offered to provide for me, offering different comnodities, etc. When he left he took his little bundle with him. Corry saw it all! I should fill you in on a forgotten item, better at this late point than never. I had had an attack, a severe attack, of fever bs@@ @q- beginningœr @dday on Friday. Amas and his wife had come that morning, and I hadn't recognized Amas, who had gone straight to my bedroom door and pushed it open
and I had protested but he had gone ahead anyhow. I hadbeen bent over my typewriter and hadn't really looked up till then. I rose and took his ku@d, and thoudlm@ heart didn't really seem to be in it, said, "Praise the Lord!" I had thought how wonderful it was that Amas could come and meet Kofi here and sec him off, but it turned out that Amas left before Kofi.
@@@s had =otteU % Ahis right foot stuck on a sungga and had come for treatment. He went to
the hospital that morning but they only put salve or something on it, and I had thought to ask him if there was still some of t!w sungga inside, and he had said there was, but only a little piece. I had told him that that type of treatment was useless without removing what was left of the sungga. I had asked him to go and tell the Dr. in the evening that there was still a piece of sungga in it (I had adred and he had told me that the Dr. didn't know in
the later afternoon, and he had said, "Yes," and never gone. During my fever I had written to the HadjiMochdar telling him of my difficulty and asking him to give Corry what she might need on credit and she had taken my note and gotten a couple of bottles of kerosene. That's how he had come to bring me the fish. She had used some little money from somewhere for the fish. I had taken four of those nevaquin tablets. Then two more in the evening. Two more the next day, and one more on Sunday, which finished my supply. I felt weak for some days and don't feel back to normal even yet.
Today is the 10th.
We have been eating off of Haji Mochdar's generous credit.
On the same day that the Haji came with the fish, Sunday the 7th, I heard the sound of the
outboard in the afternoon. I went down to the beach because I knew it was Isak arriving in
from a cable that I had received from Puan on the @th, and he was supposed to have my
@@@@@ and found then and Onjong told me that they had

suitcase from Leksula. I found them at the beach behind Ima's and they were unloading.
tnjoni told me that they had run into rough water at Tanjung Waebebek and everything had gotten
wet. They had taken my things apart at Airbuaya and sunned them. Then they had left them
at Frai's! How do you like that? I felt sick! That night Isak delivered letters
to Corry and me from Puan and Tien. He said that water had gotten into the battery compartment.
I felt sicker! That last statement is perhaps a white lie, as, by that time I was
resigned to the misfortune, and a little "beyond caring." I was surprised that Puan had
been all the way to Rana, and I suspect that she and Andi and wife were all thicker than ever.
My determination to leave Buru was forming up harderand harder. On Monday, the 8th, I
wrote letters to Tien and Ama, telling Ama about my things at Frai's and asking him to get
them and take then to Selmai and get the clothing washed, etc. Oom Nik came dlileIœas
writing Ama's letter and said sat
on the bed where i sat typing,
and told me that a Chinese lad had told him that he had seen an article about me in the
@j@LOPO@", and that it had said that I had stolen a plate from Rana which was the soul of
Buru. I told him I didn't even care, as I was getting ready to leave anyway.
Corry is kind of a @uuDr Joe. She can't stand anything that she considers expensive. She won't eat off a China plate if there is a tin plate. She won't drink out of a China cup if there is
a beat up old enamel cup around. Etc., Etc. Pity the man that gets ahold of her! We'll never
have anything nice in his life. She even told me- when I complained about this foolishness--
of Puan being so angry at her for drinking out of a tin can while Mother was with them at Selmai that she had either actually or almost thrown the thing against the wall! Probably as a
result of this sort of philosophy in the past, Corry's cooking dosn't particularly appeal to
me. She probably has to scrimp and save too much on spices. At least I don't have to worry
about her stealing! Corry seems to be a real ascetic! I had noticed a long time ago at Selmai,
as they were preparing ornaments for the Christmas prodram, that Corry's hands are not
dextrous like Puans are. Corry told me that once Oom Hierije had tried to teach her to type
but had had to give up and said that her hands were better for mixing jelling) papeda! Her hands are splendid to look at, though!
She does many things wrongly, and the other
morning I was infuriated when, after she had left for the pasar, I removed the water when
it came to a boil and poured it over the ingredients of a cup of cocoa only to find that it
had been stewing tea-leaves! I was having nervous trouble with the malaria, and it made me so
mad I threw the whole kettle out into the yard, Tea and all! Then the contents of the cup.
I had the urge to throw the cup too, but the beautiful C@@na prevented me, It was too expensive,
I then went to look for the pot I had thrown out but it wasn't there as far as my eyes were
concerned. I just left it and went and started typing. Corry returned, found the pot outside
with a dent in it, and forced a full confession out of me. It was after that, on monday
morning, that Oom Nik Salasiwa had arrived with more vinegar for the nitre.
What Willis said about this malaria making you hot tempered must be true. On Sunday, when I
returned from meeting the outboard I found that Corry had let the wooden "latch" fall on the
inside of the door when we tried to enter the empty house that I had just unlocked. I was
weary yet, and couldn't take
any more messing around, plus being shook
up over my things being left at Airbuaya, so I iust took the door in my right hand and
yanked her free. I broke the bolt mounting from her screw holes. Maybe, again, there was just
too much vinegar in my nitre, on Sunday @i@@t Isak had made the excuse that the boat
d that is why they had left my suitcase. Then, on Monday afternoon as
was too heavy laden, I was on my way to t@fPO to await the landing boat had brought any mail I was stopped by a
lad who said that Frai was here and sitting at Onko Ade Waeperang's house. After finding the
same old story of no mail, on my way home I stopped to see Frai. It was then that the truth
came out, for Frai said that he had come on the boat with Lt@abau(and Isak . No wonder it
was too heavy laden to take my suitcase! They are all liars and thieves, and there is not
one righteous among them. Onjong had told me on the beach on Sunday that they had unloaded
my things because they were told that I was going to return. That isn't the point! The point
is that their agreement with Puan was to bring my things here, and Puan had been in charge,
and knew where I was. Even if she hadn't known where I was, it was still their duty to bring
the things to the destination that they had agreed upon in the first place,

Wednesday, July 10, 1968.

Corry and I lived off of food borrowed from the Haji Mochdar through these last weeks.
Corry turns out to be a real primitivist, and doesn't want to eat off of china dishes,and if
she does she always wants the smallest one (a saucer), etc. I was faced with the problem of
money. Paul was gone to Java, and I had sent two telegrams to Ambon without reply, one to
Jon Letelay--the second-dunl the other-.the first--to Paul Tehupuring, telling Paul of my
arrival and asking Letelay to come. I couldn't very well leave Namlea with all my debts, and
I wasn't really well yet, otherwise I might have left for Airbuaya with Corry, as I was word
about the work, and didn't like to overstay my promised time, and didn't want to waste Corry's
time. The whole situation was frustrating to say the least!

Then, on Saturday the 13th, we heard a motorboat come in and Corry went to the harbor.
I had locked the front door, and so Corry called to me and said that I had a guest when she
got back. I thought that it was Jon Letelay. Imagine my surprise when I opened the door and
saw Puan's smiling face! She hsd come on the B.0. 104, from Ambon. She said that Paul was due
to arrive in Ambon in a couple of days, but had no money whatsoever for me. She did have a
new watch for me from Goh Tyan Cbye of Singapore, though. Teedle had brought it and left it
in Ambon for me. My old autoMATIC had been rcturned as I had sent it, evidently considered
hopeleas. I didn't know where my new TIMEX had come from, but later learned that it was a
gift. My old watch had been gold. My new one was silver. I was happy to find from Puan that
she had not--as I had thought- gone to Rana with Bapa Teni together with the Andi Solisas.
She said that Dortea had been sick at Banulalet, and Solisa's had been unable to go anywhere.

On Sunday the 14th, we held an informal service, readin@ from the @ible and praying.

On Monday, the 15th, I found that there was no mail on the B.O. that had brought Puan, as there had not been on any
of the boats that had come in for the last month or two. I didn't know what to do, but then I
decided, quite on the spur of the moment, that the best thing I could do would be - if the
girls agreed--to leave Puan and Corry in Namlea and make a quick trip to Ambon. They
agreed, and I did--make a longer-than-wished-for trip to Ambon.
With provisions from Puan and Corry and my manuscripts and a couple of pairs of clothing
or so in my suitcase, I left for Ambon on Monday afternoon, after getting a temporary pass
from Intelligence and almost missing the boat when I waited till they started up the engines
before leaving the house. When I arrived at the pier the boat had already swung out, but had
to return for sometning or other, so I was still in time to step aboard the bow. I had been
reading Michener'S "CARAVANS", and read on as I sat on the most uncomfortable bulwarks or
cleats until it got to dark to see any longer. The boat was overloaded, as usual, and I had
no place under the awning. By the mercy of God it didn't rain, and that night I squeezed into
a place in the bow and slept there on my plastic tarp.
@n@e spray came in on me over the bow
when the seas got rougher, later, but my plastic was just the thing to keep most of it off.
I was worried, at times that the seas would get worse and was right over me, but they d8ft,
and it didn't rain. They had a handsome dog aboard, and it had gotten seasick first thing out
and vomited across the deck.

on @sxTs@@ Tuesday morning, the 16th, we were entering Ambon bay
when I got up. I had gotten into my provisions last night and eaten some fried fish and boiled
plantains. The girls had done a good job, and I now had a breakfast of rice and more fried
fish, and when I saw that there was more than enough for me, and that the seas had calmed
down now that we were in the bay, I fed the hungry dog that sat in front of me (Whg by now
had dirtied the decks with vomit again, and it hadn't been cleaned off with a sloping of
sea water this time) a fiew boiled bananas, for whic4 I am sure, he was glad.
I was having bad troubles with my eyes when we disembarked at the small-boat harbor, and we had to go the long way round, to the main entrance, because the little
gate was still closed at the early hour that we arrived.  I didn't get
a betJak, as they seemed to be asking too much, so I walked all the way to the church office
and there had a word with else. Then I loaded my suitcase into a betjak and made it on up to
Tante Tin's, who was thrilled to see me.
She served me, and I got a bath, and went my way.
While I was in Ambon I went to the P.O. two times. The first I asked them @e if they
would look to see if there were any mail for me addressed to Namlea.
The man at the counter told me to go to the back. I did, and was blessed with excellent
cooperation and help, and soon had a pile of letters before me, for which I was very greatful.
Mother had written to me so many times all along the way, I was glad to hear that she was
getting my things shipped to Indonesia. Incidently, Puan had also brought the keys to the
trunks Mother is sending from Singapore. On my second visit to the P.O. it was to buy a couple of sheets of Govt. Stamped paper - used for legal documents in Indonesia - for the Intelli
gence people in Namlea, who had given me a pass without the standard bribe - seeing that I
was broke- provided that I get them Govt. Stamped paper instead. They called me to come
July 1968
paper, and I asked them which paper? They said PELOPOB. Then I offered Rp100 to the man that
could find it for me, and one or two of them went back and searched through a pile of
newspapers, but without success. In between my two visits to the P.O the old Muskita--now stationed atAmbon--came to my house at Tanahtinggi one afternoon and personally delivered
a beautiful Greek-English dictionary that Mother had bought and sent to me from Singapore.
At the bank I found Rp36,000 waiting for me on the day of my arrival,and, if I remember
correctly, I paid back a small debt to Else with it plus the Rp7,500 that I originally owed to
Paul.

I went shopping and bought several books and magazines. @X@œ I P@ID TANTE TIH TH@ B@NT y OB
@@ ROO@ rBO@ JUL@ TO @E@@ DEC@HBER.
Tante Tien cooked delicious rice meals for me all the time that I was in Ambon, and
Tante At kept us in bread. I paid Rp65 for the two loaves that I usually ordered.
I went to Eng's once, and she wanted dendeng, salt-fish, and eucalyptus oil. Same old
thing. I had to tell her that with my eyes I could no longer @i looking for salt-fish and
dendeng, but I might be able to get her the eucalyptus oil. She had food on hand, and fed me
a bowl of cold, but fried, mi. We had a little conversation in which she told of Teedle's
visit, etc. She had broken her arm and it was still weak after newly being removed from
the cast. She had it bandaged, and I told her to remove the bandages and use it so that the
muscles could get back to normal. She had been worried because it had swollen and was swollen,
but didn't reaiize that this swelling was from disuse.
I did not wish to be buddy-buddy with Willis, but whenever he saw me he invited me
out to Kate2, like he alw*Ys does. When Paul arrived, on Friday, the 19th, I think it was,
there had been three judo experts aboard his ship with him. One was an American, one an
an Englishman, and the other a Canadian. The American was their leader. His name, I later learned, was Don Greager, and they told me that he had written 30 books on the martial arts.
The Englishman was Quinton Chambers, a Cambridge man; and the Canadian was Howard Alexander,
a less polished young fellow from Vancouver B.C.

(8/30/95: After scanning this entry, I was able to locate the following item in the Hamilton Library catalog: "Pentjak-silat :  the Indonesian fighting art," by Howard                    Alexander, Quintin Chambers [and] Donn F. Draeger.)

On Sunday the 21st I was sick with something that made me want to vomit, and felt I
wasn't able to attend the morning service. I could hardly eat the delicious meal that Tante @ien
had prepared for me. It was brown beans and pork and rice, etc., and would have been delicious.
I took some chloroquine and felt better in the afternoon, when Willis came with his three
guests ( he had found the three judo men on board and taken them directly to Kate2 in his truck)
and said that they were going to go to Buru, and would like to go there with me. When
there was no boat later Willis offered to drive me up to my place. Then, as I got off and
went forward to thank him, came the usual invitation. I couldn't very reject without seeming
rude, so I went with them and spent the night at Kate2.I was feeling better by then, and my
nauseaseemed to havepassed. At Kate2 I saw and played the new classical guitar that Craig
had brought home from Manila. It had classical strings and was a deli@ht to play. Then two of the trio, Quinton Chambers and Don Greager, went out on the front lawn to practice in
their Samurai costumes with their Samurai swords and their sticks. I followed out onto
the varandah later, and found their performance pleasing to the eye. Captivating, I should
put it. The whole front of the compound was completely fenced in for the benifit of Ray,
the Willises' new German Shepherd, so the village kiddies who came to gaze had to stand
leaning on the fence and watch from outside.

In the evening service Keri displeased me by
having Salmon Patiwael lead the singing. He is right back there now going as strong as ever
Salmon), and it seemed a great lowering of our old standerd to me, to have him up
there leading, as if everything were all right. How awful an example for the present students,
who would doubtless have the same attitude toward morality later when they had their own
churches to hold down, if they ever got that far. Willis argued bull-headedly with Quinton
and even Howard until very late at night. I thought it was so foolish, as their argument
centered around physical evolution rather than on anything spiritual that might have been able
to benifit these hard-core infidels. I kept comparatively quiet through it all, but the one
who seemed to think most like I did was Don, who kept his head and didn't deny God.I had
wanted to talk to Apon@ Workala, and went looking for her once, but in my blindness I failed
to find her then, though I had seen her before, and being unwilling to ask for her, and
thus focus attention on our conversation, I had to let it go. I believe that she arrived home
in the morning, on Monday, but I couldn't testify to it before a judge. She has been telling
people that she would like to come to North Buru, I hear. That is what I wanted to discuss
with her, as I have an admiration for her that I don't for some others. The night I was at
Kate2 I got a comparatively hard bed in the room that I used to share with Mother and Dad as
a boy where I thought that I felt a spark burst out from under my thumb that time as I sat
on the edge of Dad's bed durine a thunderstorm, when the time had almost arrived for him to
pass from us.

Topi Leskona came to my house a couple of times. Once when the judo men were there, and
once, on my request, to help with my Buruese studies, for which I paid him and Tinus Rp50 each
that day. He expressed the tentative plan that he would come to work with me in North Buru in
the beginning of next year, after he had brought Tina and the Kids to see their relatives in
South Buru.

JULY 1968.

@@i'l
I am sincerely hoping all turns out well for this purpose, as I feel that Topi will be successful as long as he doesn't try to return to work in the South.

I went to see pastor Rutges one day to ask him about the book in his library that Oudenhoven
had told me about on the Buruese language. I was rewarded by being lent an extremely important
book written by the Dutch missionary Hendriks and published in the year 1897. I went to work
on copying it and enlisted the help of Oom Wim, for which I later paid him Rp250. He turns
out to be a comparatively good typist@. He also understands Dutch. Hendriks' work was an inspiration to me, and I am eager to get on to a Buruese grammer of my own. Rutges also had another
book that he lent me on my second visit to take out the book, but I didn't have the time to
make use of it yet, as it is written in Dutch. I took out Hendriks' book twice because I had
returned it once when I thought that I would be leaving with the three Judo men on the B.O. in the night. When I finally did leave, I left both of the books for Oom Wim to return for me, as Rutges had given me permission for this.

On Monday it turned that the Boat wasn't leaving till the next day. Willis came back to me with the three men and asked about leaving them because he was too busy to come back to town and run them around again tomorrow. I talked to Tante Tien and when she agreed I received them gladly and put them up in the front room for the afternoon and the night. Don and I got on
the best, as he and I share more interests together or something, and he copied a lot of my
notes, which information he will use for his book. He is writing about martial arts, and I about
mythology, so I guess his publication couldn't hurt my work.

On the afternoon of Nonday, the 22nd, I took all of my three guests to see Hank Risakota at his home on the hill. There we had a lively conversation over tea, served by his daughter,
@i
who is a dancer of the modern "Ambonese" torch dance, and is to tour Europe shortly.
Then we walked home via that restaurant on the next corner up from Patipelohi's house,
where my friends treated me to more conversation and a Chinese meal, complete with egg fu-yong
and sweet-sour pork. It was night then, and I had to walk between two of them by feel and hearing. We had gone in betjaks, but returned on foot.

On the night of Tuesday, the 23rd, we went down to the boat harbor in the early evening
on Willis' truck. He had come in to see the Dr. about something or okher. They kept loading
the B.O. - number 104 - all night, and sometime before dawn I said that if they were going to
overload her I didn't want to go in her. My companions went and checked her waterline
with their flashlights, and it wasn't long but what we had unloaded (they, I mean, for I was
left without any eyesight in the darkness) all our gear back onto the other boat, where we had
spread our various ground-sheets, and where we spent the rest of the night. Military officials,
nicknamed Gestapo by Don, came and tried to scare part of the passengers into leaving the overloaded boat a couple of times, saying that passage on the boat was restricted to Military personnel, etc.
Some did leave, but my companions saw some of the ones who had left come back and load their things aboard again.
Letelay decided to stay, and we left him on the boat on the morning of Wednesday, the 24th,
bound for Buru. I learned later that they did actually leave harbor in the early afternoon,
got into heavy @ains and had to return after nearly capsizing near Hatu. I had seen that the
weather had been stormy for the past few days, and realized that the trip would be dangerous.

My three guests left and returned later for their gear, and left again in the rain.They
had gotten in touch with the raja of Kamarian, and he was taking them to Ceram, to Kamarian,
and that's where they were going to go instead of Namlea.

I didn' even try to get another boat to Buru for the time, resting and busying myself
with little jobs. I also borrowed Hendrik's book from Rutges again and resumed copying, and
finished all the Buruese legends in the appendix, leaving the Dutch translations for the time.
@@@@@@p the Z@@
Tos Patikawa asked me to speak in street-meeting on Saturday, but it turned out to be too
rainy, and I didn't even go to the church at five, or to the C.A. service later. I had delivered
a message on the resurrection of Lazarus-and felt I had spoken too lengthily--in the last C.A.
service, of Saturday, the 20th.
Finally, after the morning service of Sunday, the 28th, Tinus told me that Sansuria was
leaving from Gudang-aram at four in the afternoon, and that I was to buy a ticket at the MOROTAI office, on Djalan Tjengki, behind TOKO A.B.C. I did (go and buy my ticket) after lunch,
and then went and made my long-promised visit to Chak's house, where I also saw Heni, in a
dazzling out-fit, and Kofi, who had been in the morning service, and was still weak but
recovering from his hernia operation.

Tante Tien made plenty of sandwitches for my provisions, and wouldn't take any more money.

I was going to return the two books I had borrowed from Rutges to him personally on my way to
the harbor, but Oom Wim generously offered to, and Rutgest had told me that it would be all
right if he did.

Cak had wanted to have his car take me to Gudang-Aram, and even sent Tos to Kuda-mati
for it, but Tos had come to my house
that he would let
"omeone to go with me, though he- 1- time. "
Before Tos' promised man came, Oom Wim  and I came up with a brilliant solution. Oom Wim went
out and got me a betjak all the way to Gudang-Aram for only Rp75! Why didn't anyone think of
that possibility before? How worth the  money it was to me, to only have to get off and on of
one vehicle, and have that one vehicle  take me right to my destination. I arrived at Gudang
aram in about 29 minutes from the time
I left the house. It had showered on the way, but
not too badly, and I was still comparatively dry when I reached the boat. My betjak driver
had been vigorously strong, and had kept the betjak moving along right merrily.
As usual, the Sangsuria didn't leave on time. I was pleased, however, when it pulled out
only about an hour or so late.
On board the boat was one of the Wakano family of Mamlea, an elderly woman, returning to
Namlea after a couple of years with her son, a high ranking military officer in Djakarta.
I read till dusk from CA@@VSiS, but had to quit when there was no more light. I slept in
a very awkward position on top of a bale of eucalyptus bark or two, with my plastic tarp stretched out under me. I was in a place where I would have been exposed to rain, but there was none.
The seas were a little rough outside the bay, and a worried military fellow kept fussing around
about whether or not we were safe. I was only worried about getting wet in the spray, should
the seas continue to get rougher, and that the engine-as was normal for it to do-would conk
out on us.
It wasn't till the town was well awake and busy that we reached Namlea on the morning of
Monday, the 29th. Corry was on the wharf waiting for me, and Oom Goro d@
came aboard and handed my stove and my lamp (for the Selmai church) across to her. I walked
quickly with my heavy suitcase and reached the house ahead of her, and found Puan there. The
stove had given them trouble, but they had made out by cooking outside.
The men on the boat had taken my pass, so I didn't go to the Police station to report my
arrival. I sent a cable and told Paul I had arrived, though, and sent my Govt. Stamped paper
to the police station, by Corryl Puan had been sick with her chest pain again.
I rested and read on and finished Michener's Cdd*V$WS.
After lunch on Tuesday, the 30th there was the sound of a marine en.@ne, and sometime later
s@ Tinus arrived at the house with Jon Letelay. Tinus was"on his way to Leksula. That day-and
evening Tinus ate with us, but he slept on the boat while Jon slept ashore with me in the front
room on the floor. Fortunattly he had brought his own mat,
On Wednesday, the 31st I sent Jon to go and look for a crate so that we could put my things
in it and nail it shut while we were gone, and after some time he found one at a store up near
the hospital, for Rp150. It was a very poor crate, but we carried it home anyhow, and used it
to put the stoves on. On the way to get the crate I had shown Jon where the offices were, and
stopped at the P.O., where I had some old letters from Mother and the capsule for the incubator
from Morris. Perhaps also a letter from Joye Knauf.
Perhaps I forgot to mention that in Ambon I had a personal conversation with Paul and urged
him to protest the return of Willis, during his furlough. I pointed out sorrowfully, the necessity
for such a move, and the fact that I could not make it myself.
at namlea I paid back all my debts by Corry. There were several hundred to Haji Mochdar,
and less tham a hundred to Rubin Tasidjawa.

Thursday, August 1, 1968.  Namlea.
Typing up my South Buru trip writings.

Friday, August 2, 1968.  Namlea.
Typing morning till evening. Got Puan started typing and taught her the
first steps. Have noticed superiority in the way she uses her hands since long ago when she
and Cory were preparing Christmas decorations at Selmai, and feel she may become quick at
typing.

Saturday, August 3, 1968.  Namlea.
Typing from morning till evening. getting my diary finished. Puan is
making good progress at her typing practise when I am not working, and has memorized most of
the letter positions already. It wastoday that Corry put the fried fish beside me--the one
fried fish--while everyone else was to eat boiled fish, and I got mad and threw it out, and
refused to eat, and Jon went out looking for it in the weeds like a dog. Corry cried in the
bedroom after I had left and was working with my typewriter in the front room, and Puan said that she was going to leave and stay at Sauleka's. She came back later, though, and I comforti
her and told her that I wasn't mad at her but at the fish, etc, and she stayed with us.

Sunday, August 4, 1968.  Namlea.
In the morning service I had Jon lead the singing - as he had it in
his head that since he refused to speak this morning he would be leading a part of the
service for the others to express their thoughts in, and preached on the seven rewards of
victory and faithfulness unto death from the first chapters of Revelation, having Ama in mind,
as we had heard news of his death by this time, though I refused to be sure about it.
In the evening evangelistic service I led. The others testified - including Jon -
and Jon spoke on a verse from Isaiah 53. He had a clear voice, and did comparatively well. I
was even a little encouraged.
On Monday our truck didn't come for us until long after the time promised, and we could
have prepared and eaten lunch by the time that it did, so we had to walk all the way to
Lamahang from Waeperang with heavy loads on empty stomachs. It was probably getting on toward
five when we put in at Pauno's house at Lamahang.
On the way, as we drew near Lamahang, I was well ahead of the others and had seated myself in the road to wait for them when I met a man coming from Lamahang who said
that there was a perahu or two from the west at anchore back nearer the point, and that one was
from Waemangit. I walked back and met the others and took Jon with me and we went with the
man, split company with him, walked on down to the beach and shouted out to sea to enquire.
The man in the perahu made it clear that he didn't want passengers, so we returned to the two
waiting girls.
Puan was still not altogether well. She had been to the Dr. with me in Namlea, and he had
that she was suffering with an unbalanced condition between her "simpatis "
made the diagnosis
and her "parasimpatis"--probably sympathin and parasympathin, and given her an injection and
some oral medicine, for which he would receive no money. He said that her illness was a strictly
nervous @ne, and that her lungs were absolutely clean. That was good news--about her lungs, I
mean - if you could believe it. Now, today, Corry also had a headache, she said, so both of
them were in a condition that was a headache to me.
I took Jon to look in vain for a perahu. Then on up to Jana with her new ukulele, which
I presented to her, and on to Nortje Haumahu at Waeplau, where I got further information on
Ama's death and saw his watch.
Pauno v1was gone westward, and his wife had been gone from the house when we arrived,
but when Jon and I got back @ee from Haumahu's. We had rice, etc., and the girls looked for us
and we had a fine meal. I had told Jon to take what fish Corry had been hording all the dreary
way and fling it away. That had been on the trail when we stopped for a little snack of
ripe bananas and a piece of sago bread at the beach. But now we ate it, and it hadn't spoiled
at all. They gave me a bed in the front room, while Letelay had to sleep on a mat on the floor.
Before going to bed, however, a S@t. Ruma sat and talked with me till late. He knew a few
words of English, and was eager to show or use them. He picked up the ukulele that I had bought
for Baris and played and sang Ambonese and English songs, and Corry finally couldn't take
any more of it so she e@ came and took the ukulele from him, saying that it was meant for church
music. I felt a little relieved. On the trail today I had been telling Puan how she had changed
for the better, and was freer with her smile, etc., when she looked back and I saw she was looking
at a man that had begun to follow us and l fear@œe3@@@@ds&@at@F@@@=
"

@@@*s@5s@r1@@@@@s@@@
'-" --" *- --"-* -- *-*--" --' - - - *---wi@ers@@@@*w@dt @@ @au@i

Tuesday, August 6, 1968.  Lamahang and at sea.
6. Tuesday. Lamahang and at sea.-
This morning Corry said that she had seen a perahu and that the fellows who were unloading it
had said that they were from Waemangit, and would be returning after unloading her. I took
Jon and went, and when I saw that the fellows working on the shore were only boys, and could
give no definite answer, and that we had no perahu to go out to the man they called Yusuf, who
was in charge, I stripped to my shorts, and leaving my clothes with Jon, I swam out to the
perahu. Taking hold of the after end of the starboard outrigger I spoke to him from the waters,
and Yusuf said that they would be leaving by dusk at the latest, and that he would
take us, but for Rp250 each. I readily agreed, and promised we would go with him.
Back at Pauno's house I spent the day typing. Sent a telegram to paul and Inggu



mwml9@.

telling them of Ama's death. Sent it by Sgt. to @ Haumahu, who said he would
take care of it for me. Corry and Jon went to Se@m@* Silimai and returned in the afternoon

They said that Budin and Lesan were acoming. We ate lunch and they arrived later, I
took Puan , Lesan, and Budin with me for a walk and we tried to talk things out with them.
We sat on the beach beyond the village, to the east, and there we  talked until it started
to rain, when we ran for an empty house someone had spotted. By then Jon Letelay had joined
us with @antong. Puan and I and Budin and Lesan sat or crouched talking on the timbers that
lay in a comparatively dry part of the varandah. I broke down a banboo lath rail on the fence
in my hurry to get in out of the rain.

When the rain let up we still hadn't finished talking when a man stopped in and talked
to us and owned up to beinœ the kepala kampong of Waemangit, which we later found out to be
a lie. He said that he had a perahu for sale at Waemangit, and that he lived in front of
the mosque there. after a few minutes he left us.

I would have closed our session in a prayer, but Puan stopped me, saying that I should
not pray over them before they made things right. This confused matters, and the way it finally
ended, Puan got up and went outside, and I grew disgusted and walked out and the whole bunch
and went home to Pauno's, followed by Jana and Mantong. The roads were covered with water,
and they went skipping along, Mantong saying, "Dekat, pa wae bae."

At home some time later the steersman of the perahu came and said that they would be
pulling out around 5, and that he would send someone to call us. He left us then, saying
that he had some business to attend to.
I grew to know Mrs. Pauno a little better during the day, and she seems like a pleasant
woman. She had been to S.M.P. in Ambon, and although she was Corry's first cousin, she didn't
have too bad a Hariaese accent.

No one came for us at the appointed time, though we were packed and ready.We stayed on,
cooked and ate supper, and even--the girls--cooked up provisions for tomorrow's journey.
We thought that we would walk out of the village a little before dawn. Then, after I was in bed,
and Jon sat talking with a girl nearby, the steersman came for us and said that they were ready
to leave. I said it must be five oclock, or something to that effect, packed, and we were off.
The time was about 2110 hours. Jon went out in the small outrigger with the luggage first. Then the girls, who got separated momentarily from the boy who was handling
the canoe as I pushed them out through the surf. Then, last of all, I got in and we were all
aboard. During all this tine the gnats had been biting furiously on the beach as I waited while
the little canoe shuttled back and forth.
The sibu2 winds were already running for some time now, and we were soon under way. The
winds scarcely ever died down all night. I had crept to the front of the cabin, but not all
the way out the other end, as Jon had, so that I settled myself down crosswise along the
front end of the cabin beside the small opening that served as a door, with my leg kiked up on top of a big pandanus-leaf bag or container. Now Jon wanted back in, but
I refused to move, and he couldn't seem to squeeze back inside with me there, so he was forced to go back to the back walking outside on the d@ bamboo-lath decking that was held up by the
two outriggers, and enter the hut from the back. By now, however, the two girls were in the
cabin behind me. As it all turned out the two girls slept lengthwise, corry on the port side
and Puan on the starboard side of the cabin, both with their heads toward the bow, so that
Puan's head was near my upper body. There was an excellent moon which descended over the sea
to the west, providing a shimmering-white path before us. In the night I longed for the kisses
of the one so near me, but alas, I was too blind and the moon was too bright to make love. As
the night wore on, however, I did manage to hold hands with her, and my soul ran through my
hand and fingers to her, and she pressed my hand hard. I had kissed her when the others were
absent twice while we were at Namlea, The first time she had backed away with a little exclamation of surprise. The second time she seemed to know what was coming, and was quiet when I
kissed her on her left cheek as she knelt at the stove. We were afraid lest Corry know, though,
and Puan was cool to me the rest of the night after I released her hand. I seem only to long
for her, and to love her, whatever may happen.

Wednesday, August 7, 1968.  At sea and to Badarema.
So the night passed. I strummed the ukulele some and
made up weird Muslim songs about Corry and Puan and our journey. Corry stepped over me once
@i her to be careful lest I bite her.

to get m@ the front door to relieve herself and I w2rr
Puan went out the back the first time, and it must have been embarrassing for her with all
those males about her. The next time she made me move and went out the front too, I pinching her as she moved out. I wanted to kiss her so badly!

It was still early in the morning when we were off Waemangit. Because the winds had been sibu2 winds, we had drifted farther and farther out to sea, and it would have been just about as easy for them to land us at Airbuaya, and one of the lads, thinking he would make some more out of me, said that they would take us on to Airbuaya if only we would pay them some more. I answered a point-blank "No!" We tacked back and forth, and when this didn't work too well with their ill-cut sails, the fellows took to the oars and rowed us in. There had been Yusuf and two boys.

As we drew   near and the men had finished rowing, Puan went back and paid Yusuf the
Rp1,000 for our   fares, thanking him. Then the two girls got into the little canoe that we had
towed behind us   all the way, and they almost sank ere they reached shore, because the way they
had it balanced, the large leak was underwater, and the boy who paddled them in wasn't bright
and quick enough to think what to do in time. At last he jumped into the sea, and just before
the canoe sank the two girls leapt off and were safely ashore. They had both stood up to
avoid getting wet. After the boy bailed his canoe he came back and got Jon. Then me. All
our goods were safely ashore.

passing the end of Waemangit we looked at the new canoe that the man had said he wanted
to sell, and I thought it looked good. It was fairly large.
Frai shouted to me at Airbuaya and I shouted back that I would be by at his place maybe
tomorrow. After we passed Airbuaya we found the land all chewed up by the rivers and creeks.
The Waili had overflowed into the Waelala and others and made them impassable. We got help from
some boys and their canoes. Corry and Puan talked to some women on the beach and they said that
there was a trail in to Badarema from the beach near the mango tree. We went on and Corry led
us in there, but only to get us lost. I balked beside the stream, that was the same stream which
flows past Badarema, but along which there was no trail here. The two girls thought that
surely there must be a trail beyond the stream up near the sago trees. The two girls went on
to search, and I stayed behind with Jon. Jon grew discouraged in the hot sunshine and began
complaining to me, saying that he couldn't take this. I advised and exhorted him from the
Word, taking material from Paul's writings, mostly, and he seemed to break or something, and
got a grip on himself, and praised the Lord that he was still strong. He had wanted to go
after the girls, vut I had told him that he could go but that I wasn't moving. I felt
sure that the girls would meet failure, and I had warnedthem repeatedly to beware of sungga
traps as they were leaving us. After awhile they returned and we returned
to the beach, where we found a little hut and stopped. There was a canoe aproaching from the
west with two men aboard and Puan called to them and prevailed upno them, at last, after they
had come up to the hut to us, to climb some drinking nuts for us. We parted company, Corry
leaving with me while Puan and Jon stayed at the hut with most of our things. The fellows
from the canoe- Waedupa fellows who said that they were "Sidang"- let Corry and me off at
the old trail and I thought we were heading for Sarawang's house, but found Corry had led us to
the stream, later, and we succeeded in fording it on a fallen treetrunk. At the far end I took
Corry piggy-back to the dry ground and deposited her there. She is light and easy to handle,
like a child. I had taken her by the hand and almost dragged her across the mouth of the Selmai
when we crossed going westward, earlier today. After we were all safely on the other side Puan
had to help me with my load, so that we got left a little behind, and I said to her that if we
were only alone! I would bite her nose off! I later felt that what I had said wasn't exactly
appropriate for that occasion, and may have been almost frightening for her, but yet I think
she must have understood my run.

Corry and I made it to Badarema, and there they told us that there was no other trail to
the beach but the one we had come up. Thomas was sick, they said, but Agus was up and about.
Walala came to us slowly at Abram's house, weeping, and took our hands. Mine first, and then
Corry's.

Corry decided to return to the beach with me to get puan and Jon. The tide was lower now,
and it was easy to get across the mouth of the Selmai, but Corry chose to wait on the eastern
side. When I reached the hut I found both Puan and Jon lying asleep. I didn't see Jon until
after I had pinched Puan's ear to waken her. She was lying with her strong knees bent up and
exposed through a border of lace, and looked very pleasant to my weary eyes, and I would surely
have knelt and kissed her had I seen that Jon was also asleep a little way away. Romantic,
really, this little open hut beneath the coconut palms near the sea. They had spread coconut
palm fronds on the ground and Jon had been lying on his bare while Puan had covered
hers with my plastic tarp. The got up reluctantly, @@d especially Puan, and we made our
way back across the scorching sands to the Selmai, where I had to carry the luggage
and help Puan, and then came back for Jon, who had already started across with his suitcase,
in which were all my precious notes on the Buru Language. We went through a
similar performance at the ford near Sarawang's old hut, but after that it was I that had the
trouble keeping up with the others with my poor vision in the tall grasses.

At Badarema the whole compound came out to meet us, except the one who was sick,
and we wept together as we took their hands. The men hugged me and some of the women made a
pretence of taking my hand first, but one or two just hung on me, and all put their foreheads
against my chest and wept. I must have appeared massive to them, and satisfied some
sort of need for a father in them, for that was exactly what they needed in all these troubles
that had befallen them. They told us of Ama's death. Corry wanted us to go to Tomas' house to
visit him, but I had already sent two chloroquin tablets, and was just too tired. At the
stream I had mistaken a piece of palm bark for a treetrunk, left my only pair of dry pants on
it, and flipped them into the water by stepping on the end of it, temporarily losing them.
Jon looked for them but couldn't find them. Then I found the olive-green shorts under the
piece of bark they had fallen from, and Jon came up with my BVDs from downstream. I
was discouraged again with my eyes. puan lent me a sarong.

Thursday, August 8, 1968.  Badarema.
After a night of deep sleep and dreams I spent the better part of
the day typing and reading. The girls washed out their things and Jon was upset about
finding his clothes all mildewed. It was his own fault, of dourse, for not checking them and
hanging them out to dry at Namlea. I napped in the afternoon and was pulled out of my sleep
by Puan's voice calling "Bu Defen". She had been lying strumming the guitar. I had slept
through the guitar strumming, but I reacted to hearing my name. She warned me that the flies
were attacking the soles of my feet. Then she offered me the guitar to strum, evidently
because she didn't have anywhere to put it. I refused but Jon took it and almost drove me
insane by just sitting and strumming all afternoon. They changed off at times, and even carried
it into the night. It was almost more than I could bear, but I was patient with them, realizing that they need to play to get to know the instrument, and not wishing them to missunderstand me.

Baris had arrived in the afternoon, and I had let him take the ukulele, but told him
that he would have to pay Rp200 for it. He told more about Ama's death.
In the evening Baris and I agreed to leave for Waenibe together to get my canoe in the
morning. Nortje Haumahu claimed that he had thought the canoe was Ama's, and he had brought it
all the way to WaeNibe, where he had left it at Latuperisa's.

Friday, August 9, 1968.  Badarema.
I was up at about five after seven, and found that I had been the last
to wake.
Baris had gone and dug some kasbi for us. I had been up reading till late last night.
It took some time Before breakfast and provisions were ready, and it was 0830 ere we were
on our way, Baris and I. We forded the Selmai, and walked along the beach, baris undressing
once when we had to ford a deep one. I took his parang for him there. After the point Baris
looked out to sea and spotted my canoe coming our way. He said it was Latuperisa, but was
mistaken. I called out and the man drew near. Baris also called out a salutation to the Guru,
but we discovered it wasn't him. As the man drew near I talked to him. We were in a state of
semi-confusion, but I was able to get nearer so that I knew the fellow couldn't get away in
my canoe. When he started some story about somebody from Hatawano having bought it from
Latuperisa I grabbed the outrigger and held him, and told the fellow to get off, as this was
my canoe. He said that he wanted to catch up with his companions first inthe big canoe up
ahead, and bade me let him go so he could do that first. Oh, no! I jumped in and told him
that this was my canoe and I wasn't leavine it anymore. He paddled me and bade Baris run along
the beach and stop his friends. I was too heavy for paddline and Baris wasn't fast enough, so
we put in to land. The fellow--who said that he had brought the canoe from Hatawano--leapt
ashore and ran ahead to his companions. Baris joined me with a piece of palm-frond for a
paddle after I had made some progress without.
After we rounded the point Baris saw the Big canoe heading back,and the possibility
of a fight occured to us. I told Baris to put in to land. Then we pulled her up and went
part way into the covering bush. I had been hooping all the time in the hope that they would
suppose we had reached our trail inland and be afraid to come near. Sitting on a log with
our lunch on my lap I wondered what was inside. Baris had been looking down the beach and
giving a running report, although not an entirely clear one. He said there was someone
approaching that looked like a tentara, but he wasn't sure. I thought it was someone other
than the men in the canoe, and had expressed the hope that I might reveal to him atms canoe
had been stolen, point to the culprits, and get the matter cleared up there and then. But
no! It was the leader of the group! He came and said that he had orders from a Salim Tahuran
-- of Hatawano, to bring a letter to Latuperisa and pick up my canoe at Waenibe.Latuperisa
had said, "So you are the one who has come for the canoe," and let them take it. They were on
their way to Bara. I spoke angry words, and told him that this canoe was mine and that it
had never been sold, and that it was staying here. There were three of them, but I was not in
a mood to cowtow to them. he said that i would have to make a letter for him to Latuperisa
about what had happened, and I said nothing doing, that this was my canoe and it was staying
here, and that that was all there was to it. The reat was between them and them. I also made
it clear to him that I had intended to report them as thieves, but after they had come and
clarified the matter to me I had nothing more against them and they could proceed to Bara
in peace. That was all. They could go now. I had rewrapped our lunch and we pushed off after
them and went ahead of them till we put in at the Selmai canoe landing. There we opened the
lunch again, sitting on-@ege a log or root, and ate all we could hold of it, about. Then we
wrapped up the remainder and removing the front outrigger cushion from the canoe, proceeded home.

At Badarema we found that Jon, Corry and Puan had already left for the old village, and
only Walala was at the house. Baris' joking about us being back from Waenibe already didn't
set well with her.
I was itching all over in my wet clothes after walking through the grass. A shower had
also hitus as we drew near the village. Baris had begged malaria medicine yesterday, complaining of his swollen spleen, but I had put him off, complaining about the members of the
corporation not buying pills from me from be fore the corporation when I was last here.
Now I couldn't resist so I gave him two.
Saturday, August 10, 1968. Badarema.
I had seldom ever heard anyone complain so unashamedly as Jon
Letelay did on our way to Selmai this morning. Even from before we left. He had said he
wasn't going to go. Corry had led the way for me, and Baris had come along on the way to
his sago works, carrying a sago branch that was to be used in some part of the work, and
that looked heavy. As soon as we had crossed the little stream to the west of the
Seledjungku we heard a sloshing in the water behind us, and I complained to Corry about
the crocodiles. I had heard his footsteps before that, and knew it was Jon Letelay. I was
about sick of him though, and didn't give him much leeway thereafter. I had complained earlier as we left the house, about his laziness.
On the way I talked with Baris and figured out that his daily earnings with the sago
were only Rp25 or under. I offered him a job helping me for 30 per day, and he accepted.
There was a whole lot more complaining at Selmai while we worked. It was too muddy,
it couldn't be done, and I don't even remember what all else, finally culminating in Jon
cursing myself, the river and the people. I and Baris had been humiliating him in Buruese
and Malay, and I made no attempt to hide my disgust with him, and told him that he was no
man, etc. Sickening!

Corry was mad at me about something or other, and I can't even remember what, before
we went home. She only made the problem with Jon worse. The way our burdens ended up I
Baris and I forded the Selmai far upstream from the fallen log. Jon didn't follow us,
but forded at a point farther down, alone. Corry didn't follov him, and forded still farther
down at the treetrunk ford.
Baris and I went back in the afternoon without lazy Jon, who was just too balky even
to urge. We forded the Selmai at the place Jon forded, and this was to become our standard fording place from then on, as far as carrying materials from Selmai to Badarema
was concerned.
Baris was walking ahead of me as we pushed "upstream" along the torrentious trail to
Selmai village, and he began talking about his S@@ spiritual experience, and said that Ama's
death was not œw@@ a fully satisfying one. He said that he wanted to die for the Lord, but
only with nails driven into him by sinners. He said this several times, and really meant it.
He also said that he wanted to go to Bible school, and that he was going to give his life to
work for the Lord. This impressed me, and I thought: perhaps my life isn't so in vain after all.
If only I could bring forth one! Perhaps this was the one. Baris is still covered with the mange from head to toe, but has now learned to read haltingly.

We worked undoing some more of the thatch, Baris doing the ground work and I above.
I had given him a couple of sulfas chinini for his malaria and he was dizzy and took a spill on
the muddy floor.

Baris took a load of kaso-s as his burden when we returned, while I took a gaba2 wall
panel with a poor, skinny little chicken of Tinus' that we found at the village tied on its
back. It thrashed around from time to time as we struggled on. It had been raining hard
when we left and Baris had taken cover for awhile while I went ahead. It so happened that Baris' father and Walala were there just as we were about to leAve. I noticed how Walala
wouldn't smile at all, but Baris later explained that this was because of his shame for his
filthy betelnut cacked teeth! They were on their way to go fishing, and had poles.

This evening Baris got ten rupiahs, I having withheld twenty of his thirty daily wage
for the payment of his ukulele.

Sunday, August 11, 1968.  Badarema.
We were too late to hold Sunday School. I spoke in the morning
service-that was led by Puan - on the parable of the wise and foolish Builders. There was
a good prayer service, but I was disgusted when Puan had to close in that same old traditional
way of singing and praying aBaln after Prayer. It turned my stomach, after all the lectures
I had delivered on it. I wanted to lecture them again, but didn't seem to have the strength.
I am utterly opposed to this, for I know that it definitely results in shallow prayer experiences, and immaturable spirituality, from my own personal experience. It tiss the prayer
service down to the place that the last one praying feels unbearable pressure to stop so that
they can go through the ceremony and let the others go home. It makes me very unhappy that
puan is hard headed when it comes to grasping spiritual things, for I still love her deeply,
and there is that secret hope that someday everything might work out all right.
I had strongly rebuked the corporation, airing my views mostly to the wind, I suppose,
for not having kept a supply of malaria pills on hand and so letting everyone come down with
the chills and fever. I got mad after praying for Thomas one day, and realizing that he was
sick because of his own foolishness and idleness as a member of the corporation for not having done his best to have a corporation meeting while I was here that time I took Corry
to Namlea. I reprimanded him for getting sick, asking who would have been responsible for
Andolina if he had died. We had given him pills. They wanted me to pray for Bram on the way
home to Kefas' house, where we are staying, and I refused in no uncertain language, saying
that I wasn't going to pray for any more malaria patients, and that was that! (Though not

in so many words, as I was speaking paser Malay). Furthermore, I refused to sell them pills
directly out of the supply that I had on hand from my last visit, when I would have
sold them to the corporation had they held a meeting as they had promised. I played the
wet-nurse and gave Thomas pills of my own chloroquin supply, while Puan administered pills
to Bram of her own supply, that I think Willis must have strictly forbidden her to use for
others than herself, as he always does when he gives out pills, making the recipient promise before receiving them.
Puan Solissa - when I asked her - said she would like to testify about her trip, but
wanted the whole group to be present. A few came from Saulahin and possibly Waebeso or and
maybe also Waelahut for the morning service, and I made a deal with Henki and Djau to work
for me at Rp40 per day, taking there meals here, but there were hardly any people in the
evening service, when I spoke on Paul and Silas singing in the prison.

Monday, August 12, 1968.  Badarema.
Jon had said that he would never go back to Selmai village, but
this morning Baris, Jon and I walked the distance back to the village
and worked undoing more thatch. On the return trip I carried a very
heavy load of thatch which cut into my back, and I was too weary to return in the afternoon.
I am doing fill in on the Buruese language.

on the seventh and forbidding me to go to Rana. He evaded handing it to me until our conversation led to the word letter, Then he acted surprised and said he had had a letter for me,
and pretended he didn't know what was inside.
Baris, Jon and I left for Selnai village and met Djau on the way carrying
e mahange on his shoulder. He joined us at the old house and we succeeded in stripping her
all the rest of the way down before going home. Complaining Jon and I darried the long
mahange on the kitchen side home. It was *aterlo@@ed, and very heavy, and snapped in two as
I skidded into the Selmai with the heavy end of it.
Baris and Djau had giggled at me when I made my way along the ridgepoles toward an untied end, and later told me to get down. I had layed the law down to them, told them who was
boss, told them that I wasn't stupid, I would get down as soon as I intended to, and that I
had taken care of myself successfully for the past 26 years and was responsible for my own
safety, etc. I returned with Jon in the afternoon and carried home a post. On the way
home I met the Kepala Kampung of Airbuaya just after I got my pants back on after crossing
the Selmai naked, and he mentioned his copy of the letter from the
KPS to make sure I wasn't leaving for Rana. I told him in no uncertain terms of my disgust
for the raja of Leisela after he told me that the raja had called me. I said that I had
no intention of going without a written summons. Invaldly I had no intention of going even
then, I later thought. When I told Corry and Puan the news at hone, Corry's immediate
reaction was to forQid me to go altogether. The Kepala Kampong said it had been Tahir who
had relayed the sumnons.
Yesterday Jon Letelay had gotten a little inspired about building a school here, and
though I wasn't in favour of him building a school here, I thought that it was a good sign
that he was now showing an interest in the people and the work, so I had asked him to speak
tonight. By the way, the day he had cursed me I had talked to him about it later and he
had put it off as just kidding. I aaked him not to kid like that in the future. Baris went
to the village to shop for us this afternoon and stayed the night. Jon spoke on Jer.33:3 in
the evening service. There was a good prayer service. I got up and stood outside before the
others were through and, perhaps because she was a little timid of me, since I had been
playing the guiter I heard them closed in a reduced ritual, where they only said a prayer,
instead of the usual chorus and prayer. They will not listen, and will never learn, yet if it
@eren't for me they would most probably have come to ruin by this time, as I saw at a glance
when I came back and found Corry living alone in the house with Martin(Sahamas) that time,
amongother things, The old fleshis so strong. Henki arrived this afternoon to work tomorrow.

Wednesday, August 14, 1968.  Badarema.
I held Baris to work with me this morning while Djau and Henki
and some volunteers went and carried more materials from Selmai village during the day.
My back was sore and my body too weak. My wristwatch hanBs loose where it used to fit tightly about my wrist.
Jon N @ e down with malaria chills, so I gave him his day's wages and Rp10 worth of pills
I had bought from the corporation, and let him go home with the others without completing
his day's work. I paid the volunteers Rp25 each to make them happy, and gave little Aser Rp10,
because he had carried my table and sickle from Saulahin.
I asked Henki to come back and work with me that afternoon, but he didn't show up. I
later found that he had gone with Jon and Baris, who I had sent to Airbuaya to have Jon
report to the Kepala Kampong. I had had a terrible time trying to get Jon to go.

when Jon and Baris and Henki returned, Henki thought that he had surely saved himself,
for he had carried a load of materials from near Sarawang's dwelling. I said "Oh. nol" I
had not told him to go to Airbuaya, and I wasn't about to pay him for doing so. Puan and
Jon made a scene by protesting this, but I demanded my money and paid Henki only Rp>O via
Baris. Puan later said that Henki had wept and I couldn't see it, but I also learned that
Henki had gone for his sago, in direct contradiction to my orders, which he had understood
earlier in the day when he had wanted to return with the Saulahin volunteers and DaJu.
Corry wisely kept her peace through the scene.
These events set my mind in motion. How unthankful of Puan, after I had been spending
my personal funds and mercilessly abusing my blind body to get their house erected here,
to protest loudly before my workman when I had to disciplin him and he was at fault. It was
actually justifying to Henki, when he wasn't in the least sense justifiable in any moral
sense of the word. No, It was another one of those typically Buruese stunts where every
Buruese is an angel and you become the devil out of the pit of Hell. This didn't set well
with me at all. She was taking ever so much for granted. If it wasn't for me it would take
ages for them to have a place to stay, They would most likely get sick and have to give up
their Nork altogether, and yet Puan wouldn't support me when I was right and had to disci
plin my workman. She herself had heard me say that I didn't want workers who wouldn't receive pay. I had made it very clear. Yet she now sided with Henki in saying that he didn't
want any pay, but was just coming to help. I happened to have certain memories about people
who just helped in building the house last time, and how Puan had threatened to hack the
materialswpif they didn'tgetbusy, when all thematerials had been there and waiting.
I called Puan in the early evening and reminded her of these facts. During the first part
of our conversation she argued, Then she just kept silent in that dirty way, trying to make
it look like I was an outspoken tyrant or something. At least trying to make it look like
she was above talking out such things with me. I threatened to leave, got up and went outside.
Psan wouldn't sit in her costomary place across from me at the evening meal but traded places
with Corry. After dinner I went out and sat on the ladder alone. Corry came and begged me
not to go because she didn't have any lunch for me. I told her that I had gone to Namlea
many times without provisions, and that once more wouldn't hurt me. I was si ting on the
ladder in the darkness, and ahe was below. She said she wasn't trying to stop me from going
but that she didn't have any lunch for me if I went tomorrow."The members could take care
of the house." So! After all that effort on their behalf, plus bringing them here, not to
mention paying both their fares, etc., etc., this was the appreciation I got for what I was
doing! The members could have done it all along at her whim, and probably have done a better
job of it! I felt sick. That sealed it. I was leaving for Namlea tomorrow. But, Jon protested, "You are the one that brought me here and you must bring me back. I told you I didn't
want to leave Namlea!" (I had told him that I refused to try to take him in the little
canoe with me, and he would either have to !alk or wait till Corry and Puan got him Transportation)- I said that I had no pity whatsoever for men like hin. I told him--though not
in so many words, as we were speaking Ambonese pasar Malay-that he was a sissy, and I had
no use for his kind, nor any pity.
In the night I thought over the situation more and more carefully, and decided that
I had no reason to let them push me around like this. After all, this work was really mine,
and they wouldn't even be here were it not for me, and the organization had made me the
head of the work in Horth Buru "until such time as a national could be found to hold the
responsibility." No, it was my work, and my work that would suffer if I were to leave here
and forsake Buru, as I planned to do. This was a typical trick of that old Moluccan Devil
that I knew so well, and that made it impossible for them to progress, where everybody
wants to be the big shot and get rid of the g4y on top, when they haven't the slightest
capability of leadership, or haven't developed to that place yet. If I let it go like that
the work would surely collapse-<wi so many others in the Maluku had-@ud  it wouldn't be
long before the jungle @weA was pushing and crowding for space again on my clean plot of
land. You see, in the Maluku it is the jungle that eventually buries everything. I would
have to swollow my humiliation. Rise above it as best I could. Be patient with them for
their limited views. Be compassionate. Remember that I was greater than they, a thing that
I tend to forget, perhaps from trying ever to see things from their level.

Thursday, August 15, 1968.  Badarema.
Though I didn't fe-- the tri@ spiritual condition of the morning
of the 13th, I got my typewriter and went up into the loft where I had been sleeping, and
worked finishing my letter to Inggu. Baris came and I asked him to help me and had to tell
him out loud that I wasn't going to Namlea, so that all heard. He didn't know all the details,
so he called Henki, and that serqed to break the ice. I worked on after breakfast, while
Baris and Henki went to work. I also drew up a concept for a letter to the KPS, to be
enclosed with Inggu's letter for his official okay. Henki brought another mahange, while
We got the first posts up and leveled and got the stringers on them and a couple of the
beams on them Before nightfall. Jon and Baris cut the elephant grass in the morning.
Henki and I performed on the stringers while the women watched.
/* The rough paper starts here */
NOVEMBER 1968

Friday, November 15, 1968.  Namlea.
The Bakti came in this morning, and I went down to see where she was headed.
As I stood on the quay near the Bakti's bridge I +h-
hailed by Deuling, who said the Bakti was headed north to Ternate,
and would return to Ambon via Namlea in about ten days time. He
also invited me for lunch on board. I went home and finished packing,
debating with myself the while whether or not I should leave for
a trip to Ternate now that I had the chance. When I returned to
the Bakti to fulfill my invitation, I spoke to Deulingœabout this. He
seemed to hesitate a moment, then urged me to nake up my mind to
join him. I didn't know that there were so many in his company.
Oudenhoven was along on his way to Taliabu. Debelle had gone
ashore and would be in Nanlea until the Bakti returned. Rettop
was on his way to his new post in Ternate. He said that if I
intended to go they were leaving before five, and he urged me to
join them. Maybe I was a little nervous, but I wanted to fill myself
up a little more so I went and had some ni at the chinese shop.
On the way I stopped at Ibu Djuna's to ask for my tjobe, that
Joni told me she had. When I asked Joni if it were at Joni's house,
Ibu Djuna owned up to having it and said that she was still using
it. I said that I was leaving, and wanted it back, and would be
back in an hour or so for it. After ny mi I returned and found
Ibu Djuna outside her house, and asked her to get me my tjobe. She
said that she had lent Jon Letelay 150 rupiahs and that he had said
she could use the tjobe until he @@ returned when he would return
the 150.
I had explicitly warned Jon not
to lend anything at all out of my house without my permission. He
was unable to account for about 1500 rupiahs of the money I had
let him keep to feed him while I was gone.  I told Ibu Djuna that no one had any right to pawn anything of mine, and that
she would either return my tjobe now or I would go in and get it.
I entered her house and she soon followed and got my tjobe for me,
I had paid the equivelant of about one U.S. dollar for it and that
isn't exactly a little bit in this part of the world.
D@%%@@7 Deuling had said that the hold was full on the Bakti, so
later making up my mind to leave with her I had had to choose
between leaving my things at Ibu D@n@jung Perak (where Inja's father
had offered to keep them for me) or just locking up as best I
could and leaving them there in the house. I was just too weary or
lazy to move then to Toko Tanjung Perak, so I left them there in
the house, my trunks and suitcase stacked one on the top of the
other. All I had left for a suitcase now was my Mother's old plastic
bucket, which I packed with such presentable clothing as I had left
crew @ear wee were called to supper below, w4cre we @o@re* o@de@n@.e.
And the lav @h@tC@ co@@tructjD@ @nM, C@@r@s@s@s *
After dinner we had a friendly evening at the little table on the
starboard side, where Oudenhoven nade a big step toward breaking
the ice when he yelled out a the to@r2q@ of his jolly, smiling
self and brandished it before me. @@ieœ E@ ov@n@o@ 0@ i@, Deulier
pre@are@ @@ he@ for we hin3elf, '

Saturday, November 16, 1968.  Sanana.
We were making our landfall at Sanana when I awoke after a night
night of cold on the owen after deck, where I had slept with no more
cover than my clothes, minus socks and shoes, mainly because I was
too lazy to go below and get my sheet. I spent the day on board,
only going ashore in the late afternoon, when I examined the old
fort with a bright boy who I chanced to meet, visited Mina,
Manda's wife--who invited me to spend tomorrow morning, and bought
)ests a@@lore
stayed with me to chat and drink tea and eat fried bamanas at
mina's. Mina said that she thought that I was a "pastor", and I
Sunday, November 17, 1968.  Sanana.
I went ashore before it was time for the ten o'clock service because Deuling was taking the children of Sanana on a picnic to Mangoli Island in the boat.
The kids had come swarming aboard yesterday
when he had issued an order to the launch to bring them out, and
I was almost shocked at how sweet and well-behaved they were. It
seemed so different from Namlea. He even had all of them shake
my hand, introducing me as the "pendeta" from
Namlea. Ashore I found Djan, Manda's son, already waiting
for me, and he led me directly home. We sat around some, went into
the chapel and sat around some more, and Djan innocently irritated
me by playing a fuzzy old tape of Osborne preaching with an Indonesian
interpreter before we started service. At last we sang a few
choruses and Mina got up and led through some short priliminaries
including a testimony from me. I preached on John 4:24. After the
service I talked to the people, who knew Oce Latu and one even knew
of Tet Tjia. I enjoyed myself. The service was somewhat bound, however, but Mina later told me that few had received the Spirit
baptism so far, and many were still bound with tobacco, etc.
The table was small, and I had to eat alone, but I had a really delectable meal of fried chicken, rice, mi, etc.
I stayed and talked through the afternoon, then went on down to the house of a sister who had invited me to visit her before leaving, and there I also met the chief of Police.
After tea there, I left them, Djan going with me as far as the quay.
We were under way by late afternoon, and rounded the southern tip of Sula Besi that night.

Monday, November 18, 1968.  Taliabu.
We coasted along the southern coast of Taliabo through the day, stopping at Pihingtjado, Kewalo, and finally anchoring at Bobong.  At Pihingtjado, I went ashore, and went through the village, meeting the headman, etc.
I talked and strolled with the elders and they liked me because I was comparing notes on languages with them.
I knew that they were pleased, and felt inspired to bring the Gospel to them someday.
The Catholics have built an SMP (I think) there with walls of platted bamboo lath.
They complained to the headman about the indifference of the people, however, and hadn't been getting too much cooperation.
Some villagers were Protestant, some Islam, and perhaps some Catholic.
I examined their peculiarly shaped canoes.
They have long stem and stern ends that seem very fragile, but lend them a certain individualistic grace.
The outrigger floats are of bamboo, which seemed to be peeled, and protruded almost as far forward as to be up even with the bow, though the outriggers themselves were lashed in the usual place, and the floats didn't stretch up normally far backward.
A man was pleased at my interest in their canoes, and came and talked fishing with me.
The whistle blew, and we returned to the ship, and were off.
At Pihingtjado they had found that the priest, Bosse, was in Kewalo, so we stopped briefly there to pick him up, and they dropped a couple of drums of kerosene to be sold so that Oudenhoven could collect the money on his return there later from the north.
I understood them to say that the price of kerosene there was Rp75 a bottle at the time!
One of the drums almost got away in the swift current.
At Bobong it was almost dusk, and we lay at anchore a long way out.
I went in swimming right away, and there were others in the water.
We all needed baths because the Bakti's water supply was low.
Deuling was on the boat in swim costume, and shouted warnings to be careful about shark, as there feeding time was then.
I asked him if he had seen sharks, and he ansered negatively.
He swam some, but only briefly.
Tried to climb up my rope also, but he couldn't.
I dove off again, and when I came up he explained his reason for not wanting me to swim.
(The natives had cleared the water quickly).
As I squatted on the rope coils in the stern, he told me of his near escape from a shark attack on a reef in Tenggara, where a shark had scraped his face when it flashed through a place from which he had just moved by intuition.
He had been saved by a block of rock over which the water was shallower, where he had stood and prepared to fight the shark as it circled around him before leaving him.
He said that he had had a specialist aboard the ship once, and that he had told him not to swim at dusk as that was the feeding time for sharks, and very politely told me that while I was aboard I was his charge, and that he didn't want me swimming in the dusk, but would swim with me at the next port tomorrow.
We were still at Bobong when I turned in.

Tuesday, November 19, 1968.  Bobong -- Djurdjoga.
We left our anchorage at Bobong before dawn, and sailed around the west and north coasts of Taliabu to Djurdjoga.
I borrowed Dueling's little chess set, and Rettop beat me twice, probably due to my poor sight, and such a little set.
It was nother splendid day, and Djurdjoga was fantastically beautiful as we entered the harbor.
I swam ashore and got to relieve myself among some mangrove trees where there were no people.
I was fascinated by all the beauty, but the insects that stung my naked body as I waded through the shallows reminded me that a paradise like this was much more to be enjoyed from a home aboard ship.
I examined a beautiful new canoe here, lifting it some to weigh it.
It was very thin and light, and I could readily see that it would be swift.
Another had a rectangular sail, and looked as if it were just rearing to go in the fair wind.
I examined the lashings on the outriggers, and found that the pago2s are made of a crooked stick with the lashing on the end of the outrigger end of the pago2 pulling downwards and thus tightly twisting a lashing about where the crook was, like a tourniquet.
The float end of the pag2 was tied to the float.
Both canoes had very flimsy outriggers, built for lightness and speed.
They were only maybe one inch square in section at the point where they were lashed to the hull.
One had a pole running fore and aft from one outrigger to the other out near the pago2s, evidently to keep the outriggers from bending or moving in different directions.
What I had found that I didn't like about Taliabu paddles wasn't their weight, but their length.
They reached up to my chest!
There is nothing for swift, small canoes like the broad Omaese paddle that doesn't reach to one's navel.
I swam on to the village, and was hailed from the house of a man named Tarawili, by the man who had boasted of all his help to the Catholics to me as I was going ashore in the launch once, probably at Pihingtjago. I swam ashore and had a glass and a half of coffe at Tarawili's house, and listened to the Australian news on his Phillips L4 radio.
His house, as most houses at Djurdjoga, was built up on poles.
The man who called me talked of taking me to the waterfall in a canoe, but couldn't seem to find paddles or something.
As I swam back out toward the ship, Deuling came up in the launch, and I caught hold, and dragged myself aboard, and he took me for a fine ride to the waterfall (a cascade, really), after stopping at the ship to get his cigarettes.
At the waterfall we bathed, revelling in the cool, fresh water.
I found a natural slide, and slid down it in a swirl of frothy droplets, and when I showed Deuling, I understood him to say, "Be careful, hor!"

Wednesday, November 20, 1968.  At sea.
Rettop and I played chess on Deuling's miniature chess set again today, and this time I got even, beating him several times more than he could beat me.
Otherwise I don't remember any special events of the day.
We left Djurdjoga a little before dawn, and spent the day sailing along to the north of the Sula Archipelago, too far out for me to see the land.
Bosse was rather silent, and I haven't been able to really break the ice with him.

Thursday, November 21, 1968.  Labuha.
I knew we were approaching land in the pre-dawn hours this morning, for I could feel a chill in the air that was different from what the deep should have offered.
In the grey of dawn I was confronted with the splendor of the island and the misty clouds that lingered here and there over the land.

Now, Labuha has to be a city, so the authorities took ever so long to get out and give us the okay to go ashore.
In the meantime, little Nona came back and chattered to me as she leaned on the rail and looked at the schools of fish in the still morning sea.
There were canoes fishing, and every moment I expected Oom Hierije to be paddling by, and Rettop knew that I was looking for him, and joked me about it.
It was a pleasant time.
I really enjoyed the little Nona, as she was one of the very few Indonesian children I had ever known that immediately felt at home around us white people, and seemed to love us.
She was always full of smiles and chatter, and won my heart.

I guess that I was ashore in the first boat load, and tried to find Oom Hierije's.
I decided that I really didn't know if I were still in the Protestant part of the town or if I had already entered the Islam section, so, coming up to a woman, I asked, and found that I was almost at Hierije's house, and he soon saw me and called to me, though they had taken me for a PASTOR at first.
He received me splendidly, and was in fine shape spiritually after having spent all of the previous night in all-night prayer.
We talked and talked of spiritual things.
His two small girls were now in their teens, and full of life and laughter, and his boy, Michel was already about ten or so.
Nino was gone at the time on a motor boat.
Hierije's told me of the demoralization of Sefnat Rumuti and the fall of Ulis Lewarion.
With all the women in the house--Hierije has two lovely daughters, and Thomas' wife was also there, plus Hierije's wife--Hierije still had to butcher the goose that was doomed as a result of my arrival.
We had a splendid dinner, and I bought some locally made bread through Hierije's children to take back to the ship.
It was also very good, and cheaper than the sour stuff you get in Namlea these days.
They said that that was because it was made with real yeast, whereas that in Namlea is usually made with palm-wine germ.
I was sorry that I didn't have time to get out and look around today, but expressed the desire to do so next time.
We left a little early today, it seemed to me, as Dueling wanted to take the passage through the channel, and if we were to leave later, we couldn't have made it.
There was a stupid Tenggara guru who--though he had been stationed in Bacian before--went to Mandawong with his wife and children and did not make it back in time to leave with us.
Deuling was understandably upset.
He waited for the Guru till the Captain--a Namlea man--said that there would not be enough daylight left to make the channel passage were we to wait longer, then gave the order to leave.
As we pulled out, Rettop scanned the beach to the south, asking if they could come by the beach, and said that he thought he saw the Guru and his family coming.
The Guru had probably roused himself when he heard the whistles, but hadn't been able to make it in time from Mandawong.

There was spectacular scenery as we plied through the channel, with a village of houses built out over the water, and rugged shorelines, canoes, etc.
Deuling stationed himself on the bow, pad and pencil in hand, and made sketches the whole way, jerking his hairy head up and down to make his quick comparisons.
I suppose that it was this afternoon that he and I got into a conversation about art, and he showed me many of his numerous water colors, that were professionally done, but lacked color to me, especially with my poor eyes.
I am much more fond of the deep, rich hues of opaque water colors, and like a little bright colors, at least near the center of the picture, to give it life.
For what they were, nevertheless, his were very good.
He explained to me that in the technique he used, the paints couldn't be allowed to dry, and it was impossible to correct errors, so the work had to be done just as it was intended to be done, and all in the space of half an hour or so.

Later in the afternoon I sat with Vervollen(?), and we talked of deeper things.
Our conversation was very satisfying, and we found much in common.
I had the feeling that he was near the truth, and could be saved, if only he had continual contact with those worthy of winning souls.
He was better after his attack in Djurdjoga.

My last conversation with Rettop was of a more antagonistic nature, with Rettop almost losing his temper when I stood him up a time or two.
And yet we parted friends.

Friday, November 22, 1968.  Ternate.
I was lying on the poop deck in the grey univers of the Moluccan pre-dawn
when I awoke this morning to find myself confronted with the matchless majesty
of Tidore looming before me in all her splendor, the outline of her cone standing
out sharply in the crystalline night air. That sight, though seen before, is
none the less unreal, and even impossible. It simply dosn't seem that islands
like that should exist in a normal world. A physical incarnation of a metaphysical
something of the yearnings of the spirit. Well, be it as it may, there was Tidore
confromting me in all the might of her mental impact, and I didn't
stir from my cot ere Kazan came with my coffee (unless my memory of that day
fails me), and I reclined in regal extasy sipping the hot liquid between my lips
and looking out across the intervening waters to this volcanic giant that presumed
to sneek up on me and then shamelessly stand there facing me so early in
the morning.
Later, as we approached Ternate town, and sailed past what must have once
been our swimming beach at Kelapapendek. I stood talking with the handsome though
slight mis--formerly presumed to be a misses--Dja, I believe, who was traveling
with her relative, the captain, and seemed bright and fairly well educated. I
think she is Nona's older sister. I had gone forward @ the bridge to take
advantage of the better view on the port side when somehow we had started talking
and I had addressed her as Njonja and was pronptly corrected, at which I mumbled
something favourable in English. She was dressed in pedal pushers. I guess I
didn't realize she was a Muslim, as@ though I touched on the subject of my work,
yet I didn't say anything offensive about her people.
At Ternate we waited for some time, and them were berthed at the new
American built quay. There, after meeting Van Den Maden, and being cordially
invited to accompany him and Rettob in the jeep, I stepped off onto the concrete
and unwittingly stood in the way of the reception procedures in the space that
they had cleared for the purpose. Deuling tried to tell me but his English is
not the best, so I had no choice but to ignore him unless I wanted to embarrass
myself. In the end I caught on in the nick of time and got off to the side. Even
so someone shook my hand in welcome, ald I had to explain that I w@@e wasn't part
of the "rombongan". The same man later found out that I was a "pendeta" and welcomed
me as such anyhow, and warmly, and we were both pleased. I went with them
as far as the Catholic pastorate compound, where Van den Maden gave orders for
the driver to take me on to the Boyless house. I was surprised at how he had (Van
den Maden) mastered the language, with even a feeling for the local form, and
Indonesian humour, and I realized that he must possess a good measure of intelligence.
He had a fine bearing about him.
When I got out of the jeep in front of the old place I found Bob Boyle
(or, rather, he found me) just preparing to leave on his scooter. He seemed to
know, somehow, who I was, for he said, "You must be Joe Devin@" and he gave me
his hand. I had just learned that the Duncans were not at present in Ternate,
and wasn't absolutely sure just what to expect from Boyles, but I soon got to
know them, and they wouldn't have forfeited the oppertunity of entertaining me
MY STAY IN TERNATE.
For the first day or so we couldn't do anything but talk, I and the Boyles.
We talked a lot about the work, and found many points of agreement. I found that
they were just back from a trip to Halmaheira the day before, and Rita was still
a little ill from the hardships of the journey and a cold she had contracted.
I was delighted to find that they were the nearest my age of all the American
missionaries I had known on the Indonesian field. He is 27, she 25, and I am 26
years of age. They had a fine dog named Buster. Bob took me out walking in the
compound, and introduced me to the Selasaas, and Selasa said that he had
known me when I was in Ternate as a boy. His wife seemdd to be a Menadonese.
The Selasas had a puppy that used to come and romp with Buster, and looked a good
deal like him. Rita said that he wasn't his pup, though, and when I
pressed the issue and said that one could never know about those things she said
that it was impossible, that Buster had been castrated as a pup. Well!
In the Duncan's bed I looked up and saw the faces of Fred and Jody
smiling benevolently down upon me from a life sized portrait on the wall, which
I later learned had been done in charcoal from a photograph by a very clever
young gentleman named An, whom I had the pleasure of meeting after the Sunday
afternoon service, when I told him that I should have liked to hear him play a
Solo during the service on his saxophone (the church's), which he handled very
well, and with much œ@sling. ;;@ invited me to come to his house that evening,
so Bob went with me around the nearby corner and down @ewar in a direction
toward the sea. It turned out that they were old friends of Thalia's, and knew
about my family, and I was very happy and pleased. Bob once told me that he was
one of the only three or so members in the church that were really living the
life. Among the other two was a woman who, if I remember correctly, came and
stoodat the door and talked with me the first day I was there, named Sis. Nona,
or something, and remembered Thalia too.
NOVEMBER 1968. STAY IN TERNATE.

Tan's house one afternoon. On the way I asked a girl if she knew the place, and
she went out of her way to help me, and said that she was from Langgur. At the
Dr.'s house, I was introduced by the gardener--who led me back to the 2nd gate--
a "pastor". Beppy Tan came and opened the gate to me, and when I had
removed my sunglasses she said, "I know who you are, you're--(I kept silent)--
Djo-djo!" I suppose she was right, though I didn't like it, and when I told Bob
I didn"t like it he had said that he was the same way about the name BOBBY.
I had a very pleasant visit with the Tans out under their arbour, which the Dr.
claimed was a manifestation of his wife's Dutch or Western nature (the arbour,
probably one of the very few in Indonesia). Beppy and I were joined by the Dr.
and then Beppy brought us some delicious and tangy punch of some sort or other,
ice cold, and bagea. It was so pleasant and cool under the arbour, and I so
hot. I polished off too glasses of the punch and ate several bagea, and when I
commented on how good bagea Ternate was she said that she would give me a can to
take back to Ambon with me, and she later did, sending it by page to Boyles,
where Rita said to give it to Naomi to put away, and I did, calling Naomi loudly
and with plenty of mirth in my voice, and telling her
to put it away. She appeared on the varandah in a light-hearted mood and I pushed
the tin into her arms, not failing to notice how splendid that moment seemed to
be, with everybody happy, and in the prime of life, and the tropic environment
all around us.
I was indeed treated royally, or pampered, or whatever it was those days
that I was with the Boyles, and those were sunny, happy days. We enjoyed each other.
When I wanted to know about Ternatenese history boyle suggested that I go
to the house of the historian, Diau. Now, I thought that the name had a somewhat
familiar ring to it. It turned out that the Bakti was to make an unexpected trip
to Bitung, probably to get the old priest, for the others probably suddenly decided,
for some reason or other that they couldn't fully trust Rettob to just
turn everything over to him in so short a time.
This gave me a
splendid opportunity--the splendid opportunity that I needed to do the things
that I needed to do in. Therefore, one day, Monday, I went to Diau to interview
him about Ternatenese history. As I was about to leave, and having
made another appointment for early the next morning, Diau said that there were
white people walking, and that they were stopping at the Boyles' house. As-
I approached "home"I heard Americans speaking in English, and entering the house
Rita greeted me and told me that we had guests off an American yacht. When I entered
the sitting room I was introduced to Mr. and Mrs. Edward Grimme,
their boy @edl7,and their daughter, Linda, aged 15. They were
Mormon people, I learned, and from the Phillippines. These invited us to join
them on their boat that evening for supper. They had just arrived, and had evidently
come directly to the house. We went with them on foot, and on the way I
talked a good deal with the man, a grey, retired U.S. Col., who said that he had
run the port of Manila for something like thirty years. In the conversation I
related how I had been born at sea, and he said that he Snew the Chaumont, and
he had sailed out in convoy with it on the very trip that it took my
parents home and I was born at sea on board. He had met McArthur in Australia
and been in the Army the very next day. He once told me how McArthur, finding
that the Japanese had also almost reached atomic warfare capabilities, had
ordered him to get rid of l,O@OiOOO,COO dollars worth of materials, which
he had loaded onto two landing craft and dumped about forty miles off the coast
of Japan. Then next day McArthur had received a telegram from Washington forbidding
him to destroy just those materials.
As we approached the harbor I could plainly see the masts of a great sailing ship in the sunset. They were non other than the masts of the LANIKAI,
Grimme's yacht, which was built of steel, and measured about a hundred and twenty
feet over all. It must have been about the finest yacht I had ever seen, as ships
like that are generally just too expensive for even millionaires to own.
DECEMBER 1968
Monday, December 30, 1968.
3Q. Mond . Eand@ @.-
Last night at the church I thought of how amazing it was that this local
church could survive. It seems so dead to me. their pastor, Niu or Nio, seems so
dry. I thought also of how he had always reminded me of a heart, even as a
child in Djakarta. The way his head is parted in the middle,and so wide, etc.,
coupled with his gestures and the way he speaks.
Man Sit was here with his wife the other day, and I began to realize what
a real crack pot the fellow is. He has been trying to sponge my old guitar off ne.
The nissionaries here don't attend the mid-week services, it seems, except
for nedigars, who have a Bible-class. At least the Devins don't. The only
missionary children that attend Sunday School are the Devins'.
All the that the nissionaries ever seen to talk about is money and things.
Things that the WMCs gave them, and more things. I would be surprised to find
people so strictly materialistic, even among the worldly. They are mostly not
intellectual in their conversations, and they bore me to death, so that many
times I just get up and walk out. Then also, there are those that use language
I wouldn't se@"GSe@ etc., and constantly bring the name of God or "the Lord"
into their fun. That these men could be here to preach the glorious gospel that
I have known is an enigma to me, yet they seem to have their own form of godliness.
Morris tells me that he has heard Howell give a message, whether tongues or
interpretation I do not know. They all live like lords and seem to think nothing
of it. I am ashamed of them before the Indonesians, for if they are really sincere
it would seem inconceivable to think that they would be so indifferent.
The popular thing is hair styles, and all the wives I know about go to the
beauty parlor. Joyce and Anita, especially. She latter go to get facials. They
listen to the type of music that I consider unworthy of Christian feelings. Etc.,
etc.,etc., etc.
These things I write so that someday I can look back and study my present
feelings in the light of the future to see how they look and perhaps thus form
the better picture that I need of myself if I am to fit into the picture of life.
Perhaps the reason that I take these things as seriously as I do is because
of that suttle something inside of me that I call spirit, and which finds no
unity. Could that suttle something be wrong? Unfortunately it is usually not.
This I have found repeatedly in my experience with life, and often wonder,if
it isn't a power of discernnent beyond the ability of others about me, for many
times they don't understand me. It must be that, or else I am the one that is
the deviator.
Morris compares Jack Willis with Mother, and says that Mother also becomes
angry, etc. Yet perhaps I have felt something different in Mother's anger.
A different motive, that is not in Jack Willis' rantings. I will not go on to
explain spiritually and physically based motives or causes here.
To you, whoever you are that may happen to find and read this without my
permission, please pardon these mad ravings of mine, and know that they were never
meant for others, but were written to myself, and myself alone, for I must yet
ponder the mysteries of life and spirituality which I persue.
Sunday, December 1, 1968.  Kate2 and Ambon.
Redekers, Willises and I got off to a late
start this morning for Ambon, where Redeker spoke on David and Goliath.
We were then detained for dinner at Tehupurings' house, though Paul was
still not back from Java.

Returning home to Kate2 we rested awhile, and I got into a conversation
with Lis and others about love and marriage.

Jack Willis had told the kids that he would be leaving for town again
at four in the afternoon, when actually he didn't intend to leave till much
later. He had been befuddled, Therefore, everyone was ready long before
departure time, and they had to wait around in their clean clothes.
e laud @pokeabo@@i the @@@s@esh@;-b@@oSi@oda@9V made a@@ ]. en prayed for the
@@@
Then prayed for the
sick and I went forward for prayer.
I got another one of those dirty deals from Puan again tonight when
Lis called me from the truck and told me that Puan wanted her passfoto,
which I don't think that I ever had. I grew irritated, and said that Puan
could ask me herself. Rotten!
They dropped me off at my place. I spent the night intown.

Monday, December 2, 1968.  Ambon to Kate2.
I started packing in the morning. I paid Tante
Tin RP1000 rent:to bring my payments up to January 16 of 1969. I went over
to the Batu Medja police and got a pass made for Java, and a new STMD book,
1: There was a new silence or strain about the atmosphere of the office this
time that hadn't been there before, and I suspected that one of the higher
ups must have said something about too much joshing with me, or maybe they
just felt that they had been too silly themselves. I also sent a cable
to Morris telling of my projected departure with the Redekers.
I really had a hard time getting everything ready for departure in time,
but arrived at the church early for the evening service, though late for
the little personal work seminar that Redeker had held. Redeker showed
his slides tonight and spoke a little afterward. Then we went on to Kate2
in the truck, I holding a boy on my lap as far as Galala, where the third
year boys got out to ferry across to Rumahtiga and walk because the truck
was overloaded.

Tuesday, December 3, 1968.  Kate2 - Makassar.
We didn't have to get up too early this time,
as the plane now leaves later than it used to. Some of the kids, including
(Jack and I) talked to some Filipinos, and one of them was a sportfisherman.
The day was splendidly clear over Ambon today,
It was maybe 11:30 ere we took off. Hoalmoal was beautifully clear,
as was Pwa@ -- Nusa telu and Buru. The beaches of the southern coast were
spread out like a map, we were so high up. I pointed out different places
of interest to the Redekers, like Tanjung Batupekat, where I slept that
night on the sands. Also Oki Island and other places, including Labuan
(Waenono), etc. I tried to get them to find Banulalet, but unfortunately
it was too cloudy over the mountains.
I sat beside a New Guinea man who was going to Djakarta in the train
of the governor of Sukarnapura, or some such thing.

At Makassar we got another taste of that stinking Indonesian begging
that you often get in the big cities, where fellows came out to the taxi to
us, saying that they were the ones that had unloaded our luggage from the
plane. I rebuked them in no uncertain terms.

We put up at the Grand Hotel, were served very well.
We went walking after resting a little. Redekers bought some souvenirs and then we
found what one was Toko Nam, now bearing the name of SUBUR, where Claud
and I got stung on lousy tuttifruti, while Wilma enjoyed chocolate or something.
I had also bought myself a blet and a soap-box (not a peti sabun
but a tempat sabun). When we returned to the hotel I bought a candy bar and
soap at the counter while Redekers bought some baskets. There was a sweet
Thursday, March20, 1969. Ambon.
The leskona man didn't come. I found from the receipt that Paul had
received that I had fifteen thousand rupiahs plus coming to the bank for me from Morris.
I had borrowed ten thousand from Willis, hey wouldn't give me my money at the bank on
the strength of the receipt from the bank in Java, but I succeeded in borrowing the
remaining five thousand rupiahs plus that I didn't owe anyone from Else at the office.
In the afternoon Newton and I piled our belongings into two betjaks again, and left
for the harbor. We met mn@ Hukom Lesnusa at the gate, and I left my tudong with
her to cover the baby from the sunbs rays while she stayed to watch the goods, Bollmw
her to cover the baby from the sunbs rays while she stayed to watch the @oods. Bolhmw
in@ Newton I carried the sack of flour and my suitcase to the boat. I had been sick
a-bed the day before yesterday, and now I felt pretty sick again. I felt the urge
to vomit. Newton found a place on the hatch for me and I ]@ / lay down. Tin Gasperz
came aboard and spoke to me a moment. Willis also came, having cone to town, shook
my hand and wished me farewell. He is leaving for the States. We left Ambon at about
six in the evening. Oudenhoven had also come aboard, and was sailing
with us. It was so crowded where we lay on the hatch that it was almost impossible to
sleep or lie on one's back. about the only position that there was room enough to lie
in was a side-ways position, jammed between the two people nearest you. Even then there
was continuous physical contact.

Friday, March 21, 1969.
It was still fairly early in the morning when we reached Leksula. As we
were entering harbor I stood shooting pictures of the rocks, and someone cane up
"acting wise"
behind me and spoke to me in EQglish. I thought that he was an Indonesian.
When I finally turned around there was Oudenhoven. I shook his hand joyfully. I later
got his picture. %e saw Martin Lesnusa, and then John Parihala come aboard. Be saio
that he was just back from a trip to Kana. We went ashore to John's house and talked
and talked, and talke. Asta made us tea. Leskona, Yamarua, and Oom Chor Lesnusa were
also there. @i@o came in. When I asked about Oom Se they said that he had come and
stood outside but hadn't entered to speak to me. I shook hands with Oom Peni, though.
We ate lunch both at Parihala's and at Martin Lesnusa's
house. At John's we had dendeng babi, and at Martin's we had babi ketjap. I was
practically too full to eat at Martin's. It rained in the afternoon, and Newton had
to go out to the boat to cover the cement. We boarded in the late afternoon, and left
the harbor probably sometime after six. We both felt strangely sad at leaving
Leksula, and we spoke about this for some time. as the boat pulled out of the harbor
and coasted to the east. When we passed Namrole Newton said that he saw lots of
electrical lights. He later left me to sleep on the hob@, while he found a place on
the deck aft. I was at the very edge, where I could stretch out a little bit. I slept
better this night, but Newton evidently didn't get much in the way of sleep.

Saturday, March 22, 1969.  Namlea.
We reached Namlea fairly early in the morning and went directly to
my little house, where we found that someone had broken in during my absence
and stolen my good paddle and my buckets among other things. Gerson seemed a little
funny when I talked to him. He said that Andi Solisa had been staying in my house
while I had been gone. At the KPS's office, later, I asked Odik, and he said that
Andi hadn't been staying there. I tried to send a cable to Ambon telling of our safe
arrival, but Kriekhoff wasn't there. I went to the police, the KPS office, and Buterpra,
got all our pass-work down. Before I went to Buterpra, though, I found a truck that
aS
w@!t. l@@e for Waeperang. I asked them to wait for us. At the Buterpra I was
fortunate in finding Newton already there, so we went straight back to the house,
packed, and brought our things to the truck. then we went to eat a bite of lunch,
but before we could get decently done the truck was there, and Newton
ran to get the things from the boat (we were eating at that place beside the wharf.
It was still very early in the afternoon when we reached Sawa. Djak let us put our
things in the store. I went up to the house once, but seeing no one I returned again
to the store. Then we went looking for a perahu, and found the Kembang Padi, and when
Bazir Makatita came ashore and we talked to him he said that he would have to go ask
Abdul Fenolon first, because it was Abdul that was chartering the perahu. When he
returned he said we could go, but that we would have to pay Rp500. I didn't really
know if it was Rp500 each, or for both, but I readily accepted his terms, overjoyed
that we were able to get such a quick connection. We went back up to Bamatraf's house
and the old man got up and came out of his bedroom and talked to us all afternoon.
Newton and I got baths and dressed. Abdul Bamatraf arrived in the early evening.
He had been delayed by the rain, which had forced him back to Namlea. I had played
tapes in the afternoon of Bapa Temi and Mama Mura kabata-ing, testimonies from Airbuaya,
etc. Now they made me play these again for Abdula. Many people came and listened, and
I felt that this was a good opertunity for them to hear the gospel . hey seemed to
had asked the women if they could buy some bread for our
March 1969.25
who came to my rescue and washed my long pants for me in the stream. When he returned he
had a cup of coffee at Frai's. Then Newton and I left for Badarema with my taperecorder,
camera, and a bag full of accessories and medicine for the Badarema people. We found
someone at the beach near Seledjungku, and they gave us directions to take the trail
to the west for the mouth of
the Selmai. When we got up into the fields the people
greeted me from their little hou  ses, and remarked at how much Newton looked like Ama.
They sent a little boy, Anwar, to show us the way. Well, little Anwar didn't seem
too sure of the way himself, and
so Newton had to go a-searching for some time after
he left us at the fence. I waited. After awhile Anwar returned, and they had found
the trail, and were calling for me. As we struck out through the Kussu2 grass Newton
pondered whether this was the path of man or beast.
The sun was getting high now. When we reached a tree along toward the little dead stream we
stopped in its shade to pray a moment. Then we went on and forded the little stream,
climbed up the far bank, crossed the intervening field, and arrived at Abram's house.
The sun was already high. We waited around at Badarema for some time, I using my tape
recorder and camera. I played my tape of Mama Mura and Bapa Temi before we ate. In the
late afternoon or early evening everyone (with the exception of Agus and wife) had
come, and I played my tapes for them again, and they all sat around weeping. As
dusk drew near Newton began strumming on the ukulele, which irritated me, so, taking my
taperecorder I walked down to the new house near Thomas's old house, where it seemed
that everything was ready for Mama Ruth and the other women to kabata, as I had requested
earlier. They followed me in, and said to "sit here." Mama Ruth didn't begin
immediately. She sat med itating, then be8an talking to me, and sayimg that though she
couldn't see Bapa Temi she could see me. Then she wept and began to sing, and we @t
on as she sang. I sat weeping too. we had had rain in the afternoon. The sky was
cloudy and dreary in the dusk. The waters of the Waeili began to thunder in the
background as they swelled in the storm. This was our setting for the sad kabata, a blending
with the wilderness in all its raw, wild grandeur. I gave Baris his medicine
today, but didn't get to apply it, because Baris wouldn't take a bath. In the
evening Yakub led, and
seemed nervous, but I supposed that he sounded all right to his
fellow countrymen.
Newton spoke on "Memandang kepada Tuhan" from either Eph. or Heb.
after which we
prayed together. To Torry returned in the afternoon, and she
att ended the service.
She hadn't even said hello to me when she arrived.
I went and got her letter and brought it to her. when the service was over
we still sat lingering in the church. Newton sang a song, and wanted me to translate
it into Buruese, which I reluctantly attempted. The people never said anything, but
-
when Newton urged them to try to sing it they started right out in words different from
mine. Andi Solissa had already translated it for them. He was so very far away, yet there
he was in the darkness, undermining me like a rat! I felt humiliated and embarrassed,
but bore it quietly. If only they would have simply said that they already knew that
song! We talked about building Ama's tombstone, and they immediately agreed to
help, many of them offering their services. A little after we arrived this morning
they had served us with hot water, ripe bananas, and peanuts. At noon we had
rice, papeda that had grit in it, and some dendeng that they spiced with red peppers,
and so Newton could hardly partake of. I had intended to return to Airbuaya, but
they detained me, and when I saw that Corry had not been in charge of the services
since I had left,
couldn't bear to force anyone to go to inform Frai that I wouldn't be back for dinner.
In the early e vening before serv ice we had hotong, papeda, kasbi, and kuah dendeng
at Kofi's house. Kofi and Lazarus are gone to Waslei, but his wife, Itje was there, and
served us. I found that Yakub is fresh back from Rana, having returned only
about ten days or so ago.

Wednesday, March 26, 1969.
Newton was up and praying in the early hours praying before I was up.
He said that he couldn't sleep last night. I relieved my bowels yesterday,
at the stream. Then again this morning two times. I have been a little constipated.
They called us down to Thomas' house for breakfast this morning. We had a
heaping plate of rice, of which I could only finish about 1/2 or of mine. There
were also peanuts, and warm water died with that red pule dye. At the table
I begged off from going to Airbuaya with the others. I wanted to do sone recording amd
take some pictures. They permitted me to stay, though my plans seemed a little awkward.
Some boys from Saulahin came to call Yakub to pray for Djau's boy, who was sick.
Newton borrowed my tudong, and he and Martin Biloro left first, taking the
inland trail. Then Yakub and the people from saulahin and the others who
were going to work on Ama's tombstone DJakub and the Saulahin people were going
to Saulahin to pray for Djau's boy) came out onto the trail I took their picture.

There was a boy who followed me up to the church, so I had to ditch him to
get off alone. He was the kind that just stares and stares. He was strumming the ukulele.
I went back and left a shirt at Bram's house, and the boy followed me. Then I walked
briskly back to the church (the house that I moved from Selmai that time) and on into
the alang2 grass toward the place where I used to sit and meditate by the little
dead stream, furth er upstream from the place you cross at when coming from the
beach. As I walked Corry Manuhutu and a girl, perhaps Baet, came up behind me,
and I stopped to let them by. Then I followed swiftly and got a picture of
them from behind as they made their way on through the tall grasses.
I followed them as far as the little dead stream. Then I turned around and saw
that the boy I had ditched earlier was behind me, and going somewhere with a
basket on his back. I returned to the village, talked to the people a little,
and then came back up the other trail, and am sitting at Atus' house now. It is
very lonely. Not a soul around. I went down to the stream, and found a dish there
but still no sign of man or beast about otherwise. I tried to find the @r il
on to the waeili and Walnetat on the other side of the stream, but failed and returned
to the village. I had been sitting and listening to recorded music on my old batteries.
Id@es I returned to the village, I sat down at Abram's house, and talked to him of
going on to Airbuaya, but Bram said for me to stay at least until after we had eaten
lunch. I feigned surprise that they were preparing lunch. I ate with Bram in his
house with its open walls. Then I sat around the place, and it got later and
later, and a big storm began to brew. Not only that I felt tired, so I lay
down and rested. Some people from Saulahin came, and I had to play my tapes
for them. I think that there were also people from Waeseren that heard. I took
pictures of the people from Waeseren, and of Anto and Djfri. In the tall grass.
Among the people from Waeseren was one heathen old man, complete with betel nut
pouch whom I took alone in the grass. He was short. Later in the afternoon I heard
an old grandmother singing "ding, ding, ding, ding," to a baby, so I went and recorded
her. Everyone laughed and laughed to hear hher, as she jumped the baby up and down on
her lap singing "ding, ding, ding, ding, Opo, ding!"

Yakub and otherscame home
and told a little about the progress on the tombstone. Djau's boy had died
before Yakub could even reach Saulahin. I spent another
pleasant night at Badarema. It was cool, and there were no mosquitos.
I guess the Badarema people aren't really @00 m@c@@el@, and Newton had to do most of the work.

Thursday, March 27, 1969.
This morning I took pictures of Yakub and Antonis. It  looked like more
rain today, and so I hurried Baris and he got a plastic tarp and left for Airbuaya
with Tinus and I. It started to sprinkle somewhere around the point, and
misted all the way to Airbuaya. I put my camera and taperecorder under my shirt to
keep them dry, and fortunately it didn't really rain.Tinus was holding my pouch.
At Airbuaya I sat at the Bamatrafs' house. Newton sent word by baris for
me to come to the cemetary, but Bamatrafs were detaining me for lunch. I sentNewton
my spirit level, not knowing what it might be that he needed.
Lunch was a little late in coming, but when we had finished I went on
up and found Newton almost finished with his work. It wasn't true, as he
hadn't had the level to work with the day before, as I had forgotten to give
him the key to my suitcase so that he could get it. All that remained to be done now,
however, was to give it a few finishing touches. The epitaph was already in
place. Newton has ended up taking his meals and living at Martin
Biloro's, for which I am not very happy. I still eat and sleep at the Bamatrafs'.

Friday, March 28, 1968.
After breakfast this morning I talked to the men who were sitting in the
store next door, and asked them if there were anyone here who could teach me Buruese.
They told me that the old Kepala Soa lived right next door, and after someone had led me
to him I spent the morning working with him on my Buruese dictionary. There were ever
so many other volunteers standing about the place and offering their help from time to
time. The only one I could afford to pay, however was the old kepala soa, and I gave him
Rp100.He had done a lot of good. I had evidently gone up to see how Newton was doing
on the tombstone before my Buruese session, and had taken pictures of both him and Baris.
Baris had been begging me to take a portrait of him all along. Either then or some other
time in the day all the people went home and I got a chance to relieve myself out in the
grasses behind the burial plot. Then I returned home. Newton came in while I was still
working on my dictionary at the kepala soa tuah's house. There had been a young man that
had stood near @; and offered good assistance, and Newton had noticed him. In the
early evening Newton and I went to the kepala soa tuah's house again and he found the young
man, and when we had ad@ed his service he granted our request, and with
him I worked into the night. Then the people gathered around to hear my taperecorder, as
I had promised to play it to them that evening. I didn't know how nany hundred people there
were standing outside, but they seemed comparatively quiet. I played my new recordings
from Badarema, which ended in a brilliant testimony by Yakub, while those many people stood
intently listening. This was too much for the Bamatrafs' Muslim natures to take,
so Matraf immediately called for me to come to eat supper. Whether it was really ready
or not just then I do not really know. I went straight home not realizing or
perhaps not wanting to realize that there was anything wrong and proceeded right on back
to the kitchen on my own. There was a woman sitting at the table, and she immediately
got up when I came. The women asked me where I was going. I answered that I had come back
here because Matraf had called me to come and eat, and sat down after the seated wonan had
gotten up from my usual seat on the bench. There I sat and waited quite some time, and
when my two companions arrived it seemed to me that Frai had struck someone with his hand.
They were evidently very jealous about what happened, because Yakub and others
had testified very strongly on the tape, anditwas veryklear, and everyone could hear
it very distinctly. After supper--which I went through with a gay air--we sat out in front
again, I and Matraf. It was very hot. There were hundreds of people
outside in the darkness, though I couldn't see them. There was a tenseness in the air.
I couldn't see the people, but Matraf could, and he was very nervous. I wanted to go out
side to sit because it was so hot. I went to put my glasses away in my suitcase, and the
kids thought that I was taking out my taperecorder, so they all began crowding into the
house again. Well, Matraf suggested that we should go for a walk, so we did. We went walking
all the way along down to the other end of the village to a place near the beach,
and there I urinated on the beach. We came back and Matraf talked to different ones along
the way in a strange language, probably Sulaese, and it seemed that I could understand
him to say that if it had only been singing it would have been all-right, but this talking!....
He was doubtless talking about my taperecordings. As we walked I asked Matraf if we
could stop at the Kepala Kampung's house, as I had something that I wanted to talk to him
about. At first he wouldn't agree. I suppose that he was afraid that I was going to do
something or other- I don't know. The thing was, I had talked to Yakub - who had come down
to take the baptismal certificates today--and given him some advice on how we buried our
dead, performed marriage ceremonies, etc. I wanted to arrange for our church people to be
able to marry legally at Airbuaya. Insert: I had corrected the baptismal certificates
with Yakub, then signed them for him . I had told Yakub that I would talk to the Kepala
Kampung about the matter, and see what could be done. Matraf finally agreed to let
me see him, so I went in and talked with the Kepala Kampong and talked to him about marriage,
and asked his help should and "Sidang" people want to be married. He agreed to help and to
make a joint letter from him and me to the Kepala Ketjamatan tomorrow to request that he
be granted permission to marry Sidang people legally at Airbuaya. He made a rather stiff
stipulation, however, and that was that we would have to pay the normal fee that is
paid at Wamlana, that they told me was Rp1,500! Salim Alkatiri came in and sat
and he seemed a little funny at first, but when he found out what we were talking
about everything seemed all right. Then I told about Ama, and the atmosphere grew relaxed.
I told different stories about Ama drinking the coconut oil, etc., and they told other
stories about him. Then I wanted to go home, but Matraf was outside telling stories with
other people around the fence. There was a bright moon, but I couldn't enjoy it. I sat
down beside him on the flagstaff base, and they talked on about the way the Sulaese eat
so little compared to the Buruese, and one of the heros in the story about the trip
along the coast of Sulabesi was a fellow named Gani. I notice that Salim Alkatiri is
rather bright and quick-witted. It was rather late ere we got home and into our beds.

Saturday, March 29, 1969.I haven't seen Newton yet. It is Saturday morning. I've just
finished my tea, and been working on my diary here. Newton was trying to find a canoe for
us yesterday, and I suppose that that's what he is doing again now. We haven't as yet
been successful. The weather has been a little stormy lately.

Sunday, March 30, 1969.
I didn't do any work on my dictionary this day, but went and sat in the store
next door because they were working on the porch. In the store I sat reading from the Bible
and the Reader's Digest. Frai was tending the store today. Some time in the morning he
began to ask me about the things of God, and I was able to explain to him about our beliefs
in a quiet and thoughtful mood. I was very happy for t@is splendid o@Fertunity, and thought
that perhaps this was one of the reasons that the Lord hadn't yet provided a way for us
to leave. Newton was gone to Badarema this morning, and there they asked hin to speak.
I had to beg off because of my feet, which were getting inflamed, and which I didn't want
to subject to another beating in the tall grasses in such a condition. Newton spoke on
In the afternoon Newton went with me to look for a canoe or boat of any kind that could
transport us to Waeplau or Sawa. No, I guess that we went to the beach to wander
a little, and to eliminate. Well, at the beach as we were walking back from the end of
the trail west from the village we came upon a canoe that looked like just the thing that
we needed. Back at the village we asked around and found that it belonged to Bapa "Djenlatu"
(Djen Latuconsina). We went to his house, and there he told us that he was trying to get
March 1969.

that very canoe delivered to sawa, and that there was a young man who had promised to
bring it, but was still looking for others to go with him. Djen said however, that if
the young man was going to play around he would talk to him and we could take the
canoe ourselves. It even seemed possible that we might leave sometime before, or at, dawn
tonorrow morning. When the young man, Man, came later in the evening, however, he said
that he was in charge, and would be making the arrangements.

Monday, March 31, 1969.
Of course we never got away this morning. That would be too much to ask in
a place like Buru! We finally got straightened out on the camoe deal this afternoon or
early evening though. It seems that Djen Latuconsina had sold the canoe to a Chinaman
from Sawa a couple of years ago, and the Chinaman had never received the goods, no matter
how hard he had tried. Now it seems that the Chinaman had comissioned our young man to get
it fron Djen. Man wanted Rp1,OOO to take us to Sawa, but I refused, saying that I would
only pay Rp@m. To this he finally agreed, on the condition that we would help in the
paddling.

Tuesday, April 1, 1969.
I didn't have the least recollection that it was April Fool's or any such
thing today. The weather had been sporadically squally or stormy the last few days. We
were to leave early this morning, but the sun was well on toward her zenith ere we were
off, Man and the guru Ali (the other passenger) were so long in making ready. I sold a quite
a lot of goods this morning. They wanted my parangs that I hadn't wanted to sell at first.
I finally let them have them at Rpiece. I thought that it was still too much. I had
been holding them back at first, only agreeing to let them go if I got Rp500 each for them.
There were three, and I had intended to use them as trade goods or as payment for Labunga
should he turn up with my things from Waslei. I was now a little hard up for cash, though,
so I let them all go. I had paid Baris one hundred rupiahs to carry my remaining goods
down from Saulahin, so I sold my drill (that was in them) and a few bits to Salim Alkatiri
for Rp1000. My hoe I had given to Matraf. The Bamatrafs bought my adze for Rp500. For lack
of anything better to give them (Frai said that they already had some) I gave Frai
a couple of bottles of BAYER UPIXON anthelminthic. The tombstone was finished long ago,
but was never true because Newton had started ina rush and not had a spirit-level.
As far as Corry was concerned, I had never got into conversation with her, and I never
found out anything definite about her plans. All I did find was from Martin, that they had
been as far as Waeplau on their way to Namlea to try to get married, but that Andi
Solissa had told them to wait awhile. I don't know whether this was true or not. Martin said
that he "@ould swear in church" that he had not had intercourse with Corry. He had only
been in bed with her, he said. I told him that I didn't trust him, and that what they had
done was a weighty matter. He seemed to visibly cower slightly when I said this. We were
standing out in front of the kepala soa Tuah's house at the time. When Yakub came
to Airbuaya that time I had spoken to him about the situation, and told him that I was willing
 to take Corry if she wanted to go with us. I later heard that Corry had told them that she
  was sick. I had said to Yakub that the people didn't have to put up with Corry
hanging around their houses, and Yakub had said that if she had been working for the Lord
it would be their duty to keep her, but not like now. I had supported him, and advised him
to get the people of Badarema to pass her a resolution that she get out, either by marrying
Martin or otherwise. I told him that the people had a right to accept who they wanted into
their homes, and to refuse entrance likewise. At the last moment Salim wanted to buy
my spirit level, which I wanted to give him at half the Rp500 price that I had originally
asked because of the measuring strip that had come loose. Even at this new Rp250 he didn't
 have the cash to pay for it, and was in a flurry trying to get some money to pay for it.
 I suggested that he try Man, as I would have to be paying him Rp500, and could just as well
 pay him Rp250 and he could then receive the rest later from Salim. This worked, so that at
 the last moment Salim got his wish. We left paddling out onto a smooth sea. About the first
 thing I had done at the beach was to sieze my tudong from off Newton's head and complain
 bitterly yet jokingly that he wouldn't buy his own but was always wanting to wear mine when
he was caught without one. So I was wearing my tudong, and we had rather good provisions
 prepared by Martin's people and the Bamatrafs. We stopped at Waemangi and Newton got out some
 of the provisions that Martin's people had given him while our two companions were gone
 after matches or tobacco or both. The ketupats had a funny sweet taste, and seemed to make
 me a little sick. I had been the one that was quick to suggest a bite to eat, as I don't
 at all relish paddling or any kind of heavy manual labor without something hard under my
 belt. After we got past Wamlana the west wind sprang up with massive black clouds both ahead
 and behind, and sheets of rain eventually blotting out portions of the coast to the west.
 We were really scudding along by the time the rains hit us. We had been foolish enough
 not to put in at Waspait to wait the storm out, and were soon numb with the chilling rain.
I bailed like a fiend with a coconut shell as the seas began washing into our overburdened
 hull. We were forced in somewhere before the mouth of the Waenibe, and found out
 that there were no huts where we had happendd to land. I sat with them for awhile under a
Kowloon Star

They suffer like hell and they're too stupid to know they are suffering.
The whole ship reeks of vomit, and none of them know it. People are
lYing on mats in all the passageways. Somebody's bicycle is parked in the salon port
passage. The kangkong tastes like it was cooked in piss, and the
Salt duck egg tastes like puss. The decks are slikk with vomited rice, and no one scrubs
them. You can't open the port for the rain and waves outside. The w.c. at the end of the
hall reeks all the way down to the stairs. They slumber on in the sweltering heat with
the cabin door almost closed. People are lying all over the first class couches.
It's unbelievable! Un human! Like swine! This country of disease, ignorance, and filth !
The water dosn't run. The fans are turned off in the first class salon. People make
raucous speech
I dreamed last night that for some reason I was at Selmai, and Mother had just arrived
from America for a visit and that they had put her in a house that seemed like Antonis's
old house, and she was bedded down in the room on the only bed in it, placed on the west
side. The time seemed like dusk. The Selmai men were there, and somehow we started
talking about a tree that Yakub said was sutji or koit, upon @@ which a type of locust
lived which ate the spirits of men (smangin). They showed me the locust. I told them it
was impossible that any such thing could feed on the spirits of men, and didn't
think that they would actually believe that such a thing was possible, but they did. I
didn't know it but Mother was sick in the next room (perhaps I had arrived later than she,
the way it had happened the first time she came to Selmai. They argued with ne. It seemed
that the tree was growing in the next room to the right of the foot of Mother's bed, and
when I stood up to go in I saw Yakub's bare back turned to me as he stood picking something,
perhaps locusts from the tree. I threatened them that none of them would be allowed to use
the name sidang anymore if they believed in this thing. Of course their typical
response would have been, "Bukan kami pertjaja barang ini, tapi betul..." I held my
Japanese rubber thong in %@d my hand, held it up to my mouth and said that if these
locusts could eat mens' spirits I would eat my sandal, get the salt and the red peppers!
Then I stood begging the locusts to eat my spirit, if they could. All this availed nothing,
and at the last I saw that there was no one to stand with me. I said that I was
of that blind determination I always exibit in such situations,
that I was leaving Selmai, and went in to bring my cause before Mother, who might not
have umderstood what was going on. When I entered I saw that Mother was far sicker than
anything I had thought, and that her replies were weak, and that there were a row of
lighted boquets made of the leaves of the tree strung around the foot of her bed and up
the sides, and that they were trying to cure her with their magic. I leapt upon the bed
and scattered the burning bouquets, praying outloud, "God forgive us " (Tuhan,
to the tree and tore it down in an instant (it was only about 10 feet high or less).
They all came to defend it. I spoke in tongues, and they spoke out in tongues louder
than i to defend it. I battled them to get it through the door, beginning to attack them
directly, got it outside into the main room and broke the trunk into pieces less than a
foot long and threw the whole thing outside into the gathering gloom. Then I rushed back in
to ot@r, and, clearing the resqining pa@che@ of fire off her bed I knelt upon her
to Mother, and, clearing the remaining patches of fire off her bed, I knelt upon her
bosom and felt her pulse, and found it very weak and a little erratic. It was weak like
that time she had malaria in Namlea and I had to help her off her bed in the night and
couldn't find her heartbeat. I asked her
if she had taken malaria
pills, and she said no. I felt that the last of her life was draining fron her, and
embraced er and kissed her and told her I thought she was great, and though no
one else knew, I knew she was great. This was with a weeping spirit. There seemed to
be quiet in the room about us. Even as I held her in my arms I was trying to put out
a patch of amber light where that blanket she had brought me from Singapore, and was
now spreadfolded under her, had caught fire. I pushed on it with my thumb, but it could
still get air through its fibers, and the flame refused to go out. I could never get her
to the coat.
it can @e@ " this because of its unique @ividness and drama, U!ou@l I sup
itcan@Q@ @en this because of its unique'vividness and drama, though such
ly to past @ j and thought. I had been talking to the
ss@@i@@ a@uo@ Lnd8wmi u@@a
Ib@ saja, @an@ Lucy Morris d@adi di California Utara tahun 1898, Ajah saja, Ralph
Mitchel Devin, djadi di Oregon tahun 1899.
TAhun 1938 mereka tiba di Indonesia dengan lima orang anak. Perang Djepang petjah
ketika mereka berada di Pulau Ambon, lalu
dan @iak laki2 k@tjil @w@i @n*k2 perempuan
lari ke Australia dengan pesawat terbang, laru Ajah dan Abang lulus djuga ke Australia
beberapa hari kemudian.
Dari Australia mereka berlajar dengan kapal A.S. bernama "Chaumont" menudju benua
Amerika, i@ru saj@ @j@@i diatas k@@a@ "Chaumont" tersebut pada tanggal 15 Maret 1942
kira2 2 hari dari Panama.
Kami langsung ke Amerika Serikat lalu diam disana sampai kami menerima chabar per-
d*m@@@n @*@@ tahun 1945. Kami berangkat nenudju Australia dengan kapal "Matsonia" lalu,
sesudah berada di Brisbane kira2 5 bulan lamanja kami berangkat @ul@ dengan pesawat terbang
Nei*Lui Barwin dan tib* di A@tion den8an sel@ @ t dalam @@hun 1946, dimana k@@i *d@ berdiam
@w4wd@@i@umurkir*27t@hm@
@ir@2 tahun 1949 o@mn@ t@a @aja pula9@ tJuti ke Amerik@ Serikat m@nb@w@ s@ja. Ketika
i@i @@j* sudah m@suk @@kolah Belanda untuk kira2 @ bulan di Am'bon, tetapi sudah berhenti
karen@ tid@k p&nd@i Bih*@@ @@@asda, 8i Amerika Seri@a@ s@jamasuk sekolahpula, dan@etika
k@mi be@@n@@atmenudjulndone@islai1 tahun 19@J s4iA sud@h di kelas 2.

Ketika tiba di Indonesia pera@; B.M.S. @edas@ men@@muk di K@l@ku, djadi tcrpake@ kami
tuys@4 di Dj*Va(DJ@k*rta) s@mpai dE@ai tertJap@i ia@i, kemudian kami l@n8sun@ ke A@bon.
" (kal@ltid@k salab) lalu kami @ulang(s@ia
4j@h @ ja menin8g*l di Ambon pada tahun 1952
den8@n Ibu) la@i kir@2 tahun 1953. Sebelum @emb*li ke Indonesia s4ja sud@h lulus kelas 6.
Ibu dan s@ja kems@li @@@@@@/%@@%%%@/@@%%@@%@% sendiri ialu diam lagi di imbon (diman@
p*dA w*ktu itu I@u saja @el@jani seby @i kepila Sekol@h Teolo@i@ Bethel) dimana kami
berdiam s@m@ai t@hun 1957, la@u kBm@ali 1$ @ tJuti di Amerika Serik&t kir@2 6 bllan
l@d@nj4ltSwk@mb@@ila@ikeA@bon.
#
T*hun 19$9 Ibu @@ja melet@kka@ djabatan lalu kami pulang ke Ameri@@i Serikat, dimana
s@Ja--ketika umur i8 t@hun - mulai b@i@rdja untuk BoeiB@ Air@l*ne Comp@*y di S@@ttle, d@n
k @ $i*n l@@i di $@ndenburg Airforce Base, C@lifornia.
Ketikt di Cali*ornia @4ia pinda@ dari @@@@ Boain@ ke Convair, l@lu, pada s@kali peristiwa
sedwl@ Pul@ne hari @jum@at malam s@ia ketemukan tjcla@a mobil d@lam m;ma mobil ssJa hantjur
dansaJ@h*m@irmati.Kira2% i/ 4/@/ sebulaneesudah
peristiwa itu s4i@ menNam@il @utusan a@an ke I@waii lalu kes*na den@*n pesawat terb@n@. Di
@@w&ii s4ia *d* dapat pekerdjaan di @ailu@ dan di Lapangan terbang Honolulu, dan e@ja ad* dif
disana kira2 1@ tahun
Dari Hawaii saja berangkat lagi dengan kapal ke Singapura, dimana ibu saja eedang

Letter #57

Ambon
March 10, 1969

Dear Mother,

I am glad to hear from you that you are now bacK in good old Hacienda
Heights, and know that you must feel a little sense of joy to be home,
yourself. I can always remember you saying that there was no bed in the
world like your own bed, etc.

I feel that they are definitely right about the malaria, as I can
now fit it all into your complaints of not feeling really well as you
wrote
in your letters before your heart attack. I feelL sure now that this is
what brought you down, and you must do everything possible to get the
stuff out of your system and to keep it out. I was the same | when I
was in Java, and then came down with an attack in the | museum
just a few days after they had given me a negative mala | ria
blood test in Bandung!  We are finding out more and more | from
hard experience.  For one thing, it makes you extremely | weak.
this might have been one of the big factors in Willis's | behavior.  He
was introduced to malaria when he just arrived here. He | i
ent, though we know that he is basically good-willed. No | w he knows this
himself, and knows why he feels like that when he does, | and takes a
preventative dose. I have found that to be healthy it is|
the Dr.'s advice, and take the preventative dose, which | I have done
ever since my visit to Java, and I now feel pretty health | y.
tremendous pressure of the heat here in Ambon-Town. In |
you must be extremely careful not to get malaria, so by |
ever they tell you to do to keep from getting it, and |
about it. They know more about what makes you tick n |
ever known, and if you just wait around a few more year |
will be able to give you a dog's heart, and then you wil |
a dog's life! How about that for a thought?

As usual I am still going to Buru but not gone |
There was a little boat leaving and they told us that we |
enter our names or anything (Newton Uneputi and I) but to come on, so we
did,
with all our luggage, only to be turned away when we got to the harbour.

I saw something in NEWSWEEK that really looked good for here. It is
a saucer shaped hydroplane made by Chris Craft (Chris Craft subsequently
erased) out of fiberglass, which
uses a fifteen to thirty-five horse outboard, and can make 40 miles an
hour.
In a pinch it can carry 4 people. It has built-in Floatation (which means
that it is unsinkable), weighs only 120 lb., and is only 7 feet in
diameter. It is called the Circraft, and (1.) built by Bifort Engineering,
Ltd., of Blackpool, England.

Thalia has given me a shot in the arm about my Buruese dictionary.
She thinKs that I might get some real U.S. $ out of it. She says that
recently met an Indonesian Language expert named Echols, the one who
made the Indonesian/Eng. dictionary, and will be trying to find a market
for me. I have written her that I am reluctant to hold off printing it
here in Indonesia, because I consider the application in God' s work of
first priority. I have just retyped the whole thing, and find that I
now have almost three thousand words. I am now re-checking it, and putting
last touches on it. I want. it to be very accurate, and have the parts of
speech identified on all words. After this we will translate it into
Indonesian, and Sorbo will print it in Malang.

I was glad to receive the good color picture of you in the hospital,
but it almost broke my heart to see you looking so down. May God raise you
up. Halelujah!

About Joy, I have written to her, but no reply yet. I can't blame her in
the
least if she doesn't feel like talking to me, however, because I was about
four months
or more in answering her letter. How shameful of me, after all her help
andkindness.
I hope that she is all right and doing a good work in Bali.

I suppose that it would be nice if sister Hilda came to see you about,
now,
and I sincerely hope she does. If se, please send her my regards.

I'm glad Rod is paying a little attention to you, and think he oughtht to,
for I
don't have any idea where in the world he could find a better mother than
_our_ mother!

Of course I understand your deep spiritual experience, and rejoice with
you in
your splendid revelation. God is great.

Right now I find Ezekiel 38 and 39 fascinating, as there is perhaps no
prophecy
in our time that is being so spectacularly fulfilled as that except for
the return
of Isreal to Palestine, which is all a part of the same thing. Gog, the
prince of
Rosh, Mesech (Moscow) and Tubal (Tobolsk) and many peoples with him are
finding their way to destruction on the mountains of Israel. God will rain
fire upon Magog
(Russia). It is unbelievable! Happening before our very eyes!

I thought the story of the young Israeli (Mordecai Rachamin, 22) who drew
a
pistol, leaped to the ground from the high emergency door
of the El Al plane and charged the three Arabs who were machine-gunning it
from a
position of higher ground at the Zurich international Airport, killing
one, was
moving. He had such impossible odds against him, and yet he never
hesitated for a
moment, but charged straight at the machine guns, knocked one out, and
still escaped
with his life!  God is surely with those people!  Must close, Much love,
Joe.

2003 note: Someone seems to have wanted the stamp off this areogram,
because the part that would have been around the stamp has been torn away.
 I have placed a vertical bar at the tear position on every one of the
lines that was torn in the above.  I have tried to fill in the torn parts
of some of these lines from memory. --Joe.

End letter #57.

Begin next letter:

Ambon
May 29, 1969

Dear Mother,

I have just returned from one of the most wonderful trips you could
imagine.

I left Inggu, Rene, Cak's wife and others at Mardika beach and paddled
to Hatu on the afternoon of April 15.  I spent one night at the chief's
house there.

The next morning,—April 16th,—I paddled on and arrived at the little
island called Nusa Ela, the last of our Three Little Kettle Lids toward
Ceram, sometime fairly early in the afternoon. Here I was received into
the house of a Butonese named LaSabihu.  The people there remembered me
from the time that I spent the night there 10 years ago when I was sailing
alone in my little boat that we made at Kate2.  There are now about
sixteen houses on the island, and many people converged on La Sabihu's
house to see and here me.  They were anxious to hear about the things of
God, and kept me awake talking to them by serving me little glasses of hot
coffee so that I never slept before about midnight.  It was a splendid
opportunity to testify, and I did my best to make the most of it, and felt
that my words were well received.  They wanted me to come and stay longer
some time.  Also to always make their island my stopping-place.

Next morning, the 17th, I crossed over alone in my canoe, TANGIIA, to
Hoalmoal.  Strong winds arose during the crossing, and sometimes it was
hard for me to see Hoalnoal any more at all in the rain squalls.
Fortunately I had decked Tangiia fore and aft with plastic table-cloth
strips, and shipped only a comparatively little bit of water.  It was as
though the demons of Ceram were barring the way to me, so I rebuked them
in the name of the Lord and paddled slowly, letting the storm vent its
fury on me without struggling against it.  After awhile the winds slacked
off and I was able to reach the coast of Ceram probably sometime before
noon.  I paddled past Tihulesi on the west coast of Hoalmoal and brought
in a small swordfish with my line as I approached Waease.  Beyond Waease I
found a little beach where I beached my canoe and knelt in the sand to
offer thanks to God for the safe crossing, and for allowing me to set foot
on this land I had so long prayed for and loved.  As I sat on the beach a
Butonese man came and talked with me from some nearby houses.  I was
somewhat weary, so I was glad to accept his invitation when he asked me to
stay with him for awhile.  I rested a day here, spending 2 nights.  I
didn't find the same spirit of receptiveness here, so was somewhat silent.

On the morning of the 19th I paddled on to the north along the coast and
encountered some waves when I reached the great capes that thrust their
boulders out into the brew where the Hoalmoal peninsula begins to broaden
out, guarding the approaches to Lobang Haya, if you please.  I was looking
for water in a little cove when I met a man in a kole2 who led me on to a
village called Latu where he went in with his kole2, dipped water for me
in the smaller kettle of the two that you brought to me in Buru, and
brought it back out to me so that I didn't have to risk landing.  He had
asked if I had medicine, because he said that their imam was sick with a
bad foot infection.  I said "no," but told him to tell the imam that I
would pray for him, and left him.  I haven't heard anything yet, but am
hoping for some sort of a miracle as a witness.  Late in the afternoon I
found a spot where the surf wasn't so bad and put in to ask for directions
to Lobang Haya at a house I saw there.  I found that it was too late to go
on, especially with the condition of the sea, which would have been very
unsafe for me in the dark.  The people there agreed to put me up for the
night, and here again I found the population to be all Butonese.

The next day was Sunday, the 20th, and not wishing to desecrate the
Sabbath, I asked if I could stay on with them that day.  They consented.
Here again I didn't find that spirit of spiritual hunger that I so well
know, so I didn't testify much to them.  On Sunday I was called to the
Chief's house, and there I found that it was a police officer that was
behind the summons.  He turned out to be a Buruese from Waepoti (between
Hatawano and Airbuaya), and was delighted, of course, when he found that I
spoke Buruese so well, and the people there were all amazed when we
started out rattling off that language to each other.  He begged me to
come on and spend the night with him at Talaga Nipa, a predominantly
Butonese village of over 600 at the entrance to the Lobang.  We walked
there and let my new friend's boys paddle the canoe.  We passed the
Protestant settlement of Hatualang, wheere several families have now come
to live from the crowded Alang area.  I had met some of them earlier, and
when I was alone at the stream with one who seemed more responsible I
asked him if they had a pastor at their new village, and when he said that
they were still in the process of "urus"ing
that I told him to talk to the elders, and if
they wanted I would "Urus" them one from our organization, figuring that I
would be game to come and minister to them myself if need be.

At Talaga Nipa I went straight to the beach, and found the scene set for a
splendid photograph of the Lobang in the gathering dusk.  They soon
arrived with my camera, and I took it.  then we went in to the chief's
house, a Butonese named Ladira, and there I got a splendid opportunity to
testify that night, and felt the presence of that excellent spirit of
testimony that I so often feel, and that Nebuchadneaxar could only
describe as the Spirit of the Holy Gods.  Ladira had a big, comfortable,
stucco house.

Next morning, the 21st, I was off again in Tangiia, paddled up through
Lobang Haya and on to the Asaude area, stopping to ask unsuccessfully for
provisions at Waesalah.  Talaga Nipa was the first place I stayed that I
was given no food to take along, for the people of the Moluccas have ever
been seafaring people, and know that to paddle over the scorching seas
from dawn till dusk one must have adequate provisions, and usually are
thoughtful enough to provide them without being asked.  I finally made the
acquaintance of a young Muslim fisherman named Tajuddin who took me
ashore to eat at his house, where I was able to buy a kilo of rice from a
neighbour, from which his wife made plenty of katupats for me.  After
eating and waiting for my katupats I journeyed on and passed some
spectacular scenery with islets, caught two fine komu and arrived at the
little Butonese village of Tatinang, half of which is built out over the
water, and most of which is built on poles anyhow.  It was dark by the
time I had reached the chief's house.  Here again I found opportunity to
testify.

Next morning I paddled on, stopping to pray alone on a beach near Tanjung
Tapi.

Beyond Tanjung Tapi I encountered a fierce wind against which I had to
paddle for some time ere I could find shelter in the lee of Pulau Buntal,
a small, rugged islet surrounded by drying reefs.  I was amazed at the
force of the wind even there, for it lifted my paddle and flipped it into
the water from where I had set it on the canoe, and carried away a pair of
wet swim trunks that Joyce had given me, and which I couldn't hope to find
even in those shallow waters with my eyes.  I ate and paddled around to
the other side of the islet, where I was surprised to find a whole village
built out over the water, which was most picturesque, with a ramp or
walkway leading out to it from the mainland, where there was only one or
two houses whereas there were so many crowded out over the water.  I
approached to beg water, and found a woman who complained to me that her
husband was sick, and she had to stay in this village built in the water,
etc.  From what she said I seemed to be able to gather that her husband
was suffering from a severe attack of dysentery (berak darah) coupled with
malaria.  I had just the thing for the malaria, and gave her a bunch of
sulfa quinine tablets with instructions on how to use them.  I took my
kettle from her hand, and though I knew it could be very dangerous for me,
drank deeply, and went on.  I must have appeared as an angel out of the
void to her and her suffering husband to appear with the medicine he
needed absolutely free.  In our brief exchange of words, I got to tell the woman that I was a preacher and believed in Jesus, and then paddled off into infinity.  They were Butonese.    The woman had given me directions on how to reach Mumul, a place not on my old map, but where I had heard that there
were Germans living, and was curious to meet them.  The wind was from
directly astern now, and my canoe raced over the shallow reefs toward the
islets between Pulau Osi and the mainland ahead.  As I approached the gap I was to paddle through I couldn't resist
stopping to take a picture of the excellent and exotic scenerey.  Trees
growing right out on the reefs.  Once through the gap I headed right and
thus began my quest for Mumul, which, it turned out, was no easy place to
find.  After asking directions many times and even paddling up the wrong
river once I finally found it at the southeast corner of the bay, a good
way up a murkey stream that wound its way through the mangrove trees,
completely hidden from the sea.

The natives took me to a crumbling house amid thousands of coconut trees,
but were afraid to awaken the occupant.  It was mid-afternoon.  I knocked
and called, and was answered by an unfriendly voice from within.  When I
finally roused him, though, Inyo Olczewsky saw that I was something
strange and was delighted to receive me.  He is probably in his later
fifties.  Rather thickset.  His Mother was Saparuaese, but his father was
pure German, and had come to Indonesia as a soldier in the V.O.C.  in 1900
or so, and was now dead.  Inyo had a brother, Yaneke, but he was in Piru
at the time.  We had a good visit, and it was here that I got out my long
pants and dressed up a little for the first time since leaving Ambon.  Our
mood was European.  He talked a lot to me.  The Govt.  had tried to take
his lands away from him but he was "warga Negara," and had gotten them all
back, and had about 1000 hectares, and wanted very much to find foreign
investors to help him with exploitation, as he was rather cleaned-out
financially after all the political unrest of the recent years (the T.N.I.
 had battered his electric plant to scrap-iron), and with the present
regime it seems that it is possible for foreign investment to pay off in
Indonesia.  He said that he had known Dad and Shirley from the services in
Ambon.  We had a fine time, and he entertained me with stories of his
jungle experiences with snakes, pet crocodile, etc.

Next day I paddled on with fine provisions and arrived at a beach called
Kaliwei as dusk began to gather.  This was the one bad experience of my
journey, for there were people staying there in huts to work sago, etc,
but they were very suspicious and unfriendly and even nasty to me.  They
were from Mornaten, the place I had hoped someday to evangelize.  They
were the first big group of Ceramese I had come across, and they left me
with a terrible impression.  An Impression not applicable to the people of
other areas of Ceram.  They were some of the crudest, beastliest human
beings that I had ever seen, and they kept me awake shouting at each other
in their vulgar tongue. Then, every time I stirred during the night they
would say, "Hum! Hum!" and taugh coarsely, as if they expected me to try
to catch them asleep and make off with their heads.  I had to trust my
life to my guardian angel, as no one could be sure what primitive people
like these might take a notion to do.

I found out the next morning, the 24th, after I left in the reddish light
of dawn, glad to get away from that horrible place (where I had slept with
them in an open beachhut on a piece or two of atap that they had provided,
and had been fortunate enough to have my own provisions from Mumul to
eat).  After I ate a little for breakfast and resumed paddling I found
that I was following another canoe, and that they were paddling fairly
swiftly.  At first I thought that they were afraid of me, and trying to
get away.  Or, maybe these Ceramese just naturally paddled at this pace.
At any rate, I saw this as a fine opportunity to play follow the leader
with them along this unknown coast, and thus avoid unintentional
encounters with both possible contrary currents and reefs.  They were
going at that kind of pace which made it just hard enough to keep up to
give me some competition, and that way even help me to make better speed.
I got closer and closer to them, and saw that they weren't women trying to
escape, but three men, the one in the middle being the fellow who had come
to me when I had just landed the day before, told me he was a chief, and
demanded to see my pass, even threatened to take me to Taniwel before I
could even finish the katupat that I had been eating as I sat.  I could
sense the high tension in the air.  That very same spirit I had felt that
time they robbed me at Biloro, Buru.  Tangiia was swifter, however, and I
smiled at them and chided them, "Tambah, tambah, tambah!" as I passed them
and they struggled to forge ahead.  They had smelled so badly that their
odour had drifted back to me several times as I followed them.

After I passed them, and knew that something very bad was afoot, I split up
with them and struck out across the bay ahead for a distant, hazy point.
I had seen in this skinny little chief exactly the same personality that
had confronted me on that trek to Waslei, mid-trail, none other than the
personality of Nawas Latsikit (MINGGODO!).  I had felt like greeting him
by his name.

A little beyond Mornaten I heard the knock of paddle pulled swiftly
against canoe hull from landward, then shouts for me to halt.  I paddled
on.  They drew near.  I was experienced at this sort of thing by now, so I
just argued at them, ranted at them and dodged them back to the village of
Mornaten, where I had to go through the same old primitive ordeal, this
time even having to wait on the grand prince of their domain (whom, when
he came, I greeted as "Paduka Mulia").  This time, however, I had a
mysterious weapon.  Once ashore I immediately fumbled in my can and
brought out my 35mm camera and started taking pictures of one of the
canoes that had gone out after me.  I later learned that this really shook
them up.  They should have been shaken up, violently, I mean.  Their
skinny little chief had already seen that all my papers were in order the
day before, and had no business whatsoever to send his bucks out after me
on the high seas.  I let them know this vociferously.  To make a long
story short, after it was all over I paddled on to Taniwel, and there was
received graciously by the KPS and his wife, eating at their home and
sleeping at the home of the Agraria Dept.  man's house.  Taniwel is the
center of government for that area of Ceram.  here I met a Protestant
minister named David Hukom, of Paperu, age 68 or so, and he insisted that
I wait for him at his village of Uen, about 20 miles up the coast, as he
wanted very much to talk more to me.

Mext day, the 25th, I set out with the best lunch packed for me thus far.
The KPS's wife had made it, and it contained katupats, delicious at jar,
and lots of tasty deer meat.  She had lived at Kawiri, Buru, as a girl,
and could speak a few words of Buruese with me.

The rugged mountain scenery along this coast is beautiful, with great rock
faces like gaping wounds in the blanket of green.

The surf was a little heavy and I got swamped when I tried to land at a
village to ask where Uen was.  I lost my paddle in the confusion, and
after swiftly dragging my canoe out of the water and bailing her dry I
threw a fit trying to find it.  I shouted and shouted, but the houses were
a little way back in, and when some people did come they were horrified by
the sight of me, and couldn't be expected to immediately believe I
couldn't  see, and desparately needed their help to spot my paddle and
retrieve it from the sea before it was swept forever away by the swift
eastward current that was then running.  Finally a young man came to my
assistance and caught it from the surf.  back at the canoe I found that I
had been quick enough, and that the water had not gotten a chance to get
at my camera and tape-recorder.  I found that I had landed at Hatunuru,
which was not far from Uen, and I later arrived at Hukom's house in a big
rainstorm, bathed at the fine stream, and waited there for him.  He didn't
come that day, but there were •two maidens there who were his
"anak-piaras," and they served me good food.

I decided to stay on and wait for Hukom, and on the next afternoon, that
of the 26th, I looked up from where I was sitting on the varandah to see
his helmeted head approaching, and was glad.  He was also glad to see me.
He asked me to speak in the Sunday service tomorrow morning.  He wanted to
know and go over with me that night what I would preach on.  I chose the
parable of the potter from Jeremiah 18 to illustrate the rebirth.  They
liked it, and I had noticed that Hukom had been bowing during most of my
message.  He later told me that he had wept during my sermon.

That evening Hukom and I ate out at a marriage supper, where I was the one
that had to make the speech and pray over the feast.  They had been trying
to detain me (I was due to leave in the morning) but I didn't want it to
appear that I was the one that wanted to stay (as of course I did, to
preach the word to them) so I had been turning them down to see their
reaction.  It was during the feast that the elders and Hukom got together
on the deal and detained me with the invitation that I should preach for
them at the "Utusan Indjil" service at Hatunuru next Wednesday afternoon,
where the congregations of several churches would be gathered.  In that
service I preached on the verse about the Kingdom not being in word but in
power, and showed then how people still believed more in the power of
adat, tiup2, etc.  than in the power of God.  God is not dead, I told
them, and he is the one that has the real power.  Then I showed them that
though the power of God was invisible, yet there was no power on earth
that was visible, eg.  gravity, electricity, etc.  (gravity is really a
force, I know), then I explained the power of god to deliver us from our
sins, if only we believed.  I got by without misshap, only that I put my
foot through a gap in the stairs on my way down from the pulpit, and that
was very embarrassing and discouraging for me, but I just gave the glory
to got, knowing that the flesh profiteth nothing, and that it is the
spirit that quickeneth.

I can't describe the joy, and the receptiveness, and the opportunity and
the fulfillment that I felt during my week at Uen.  Old Hukom seems to
have accepted everything that I said to him, and I think that God is
really going to save him and use him, and pour out of his spirit in that
area.  About all we did was talk on and on about spiritual things from
morning till late at night every day I was there.  He said that he was so
hungry that he was actually "golodjo" for the deeper spiritual things.  He
hadn't come into contact with assemblies before, and confided to me that
he saw that we A.  of G.  pastors must have more than the Protestants!
etc.  He complained to me about the people that were leading the service I
preached in at Hatunuru being "whitewashed tombs," and told me that they
didn't pray in the spirit, but composed their prayers at home, etc.
Before I left he asked me for a verse that we could examine together for
him to preach from and I gave him that verse from Jude about building up
yourselves on the most holy foundation of your faith, and praying always
in the Spirit.  You would have understood how it tied in had you been
there.

I was sad to paddle away from Uen on the morning of Friday, May 2nd, but
that evening I reached Labuan, the new village that they have built om onb
Nukucin's coconut trees on the mainland right in front of Pulau Tengah,
where Wimpi Salatua has been ministering.  I found Winpi gone but three
converts there (of other ministries).  Your old converts had all gone
back, and were worse than ever, except for the old Kisarese, Oom Laban,
who stays with Wimpi together with his wife ( Oom Laban's wife.  Wimpi is
still single).  Your old converts went the way of all flesh.  First of all
into Pinkster, then on down the ladder into Protestan (Prosetan).  Now
there is a rather nasty spirit of unbelief among the younger people
mingled with curiosity, though, plus a passive yearning for what they once
tasted under the ministry of sister Devin .  back before the ffall, some
thirty years ago.  Oom Laban's wife detained me and so I stayed till
Sunday, when I held morning service at Wimpi's house speaking on the
waters of life, and evening service with pressure lantern at the house of
the Chinese girl, Simpua, speaking on the resur rection of Lazarus.  I
don't know at all how much good I did, but feeling a contrary spirit there
I decided to push on.

On the morning of Monday, the 5th, I set out for Sawai via Pulau Esau,
where I stopped to stand for a moment in my Mother's footsteps and to
kneel in the sand to pray and consecrate my life to God, and ask for a new
outpouring.  I seemed to find inspiration, and prayed in roughly these
words, "Bless these canoes that have struck out across the vastness," as I
saw our lives as swift canoes that shot out in their time on a mission
across the great deep and into the oblivion of eternity, and only God
could weigh or know what courage throbbed in the hands at the paddle or
the indestructible will that drove us on.  I speak of the will and courage
of God.  What motivated us was something that few people would ever
understand, and it made me feel lonely.  While I was on P.  Esau I found
an old foundation slab and a thatch shack, but no man.  Only birds and
surf.  I heard that the island was bombed by the allies during the war
because there were godowns there.

I came to a village I thought was Saleman, and photographed it, then went
on and found that it had been Horale.  The mountains behind were very
steep, and the little village nestled below captured my imagination.  I
passed Saleman later and paddled on toward Sawai.  (I forgot to mention
that after P.  Esau I came back to the mainland near Pasanea, paddled on,
and stopped and talked to Keri's uncle, Zed, at Karlutu-Kara).  I had
never dreamed of the beauty that awaited me at Sawai bay.  here, across
the bay from Saleman the mountains sheer off into the sea in a massive
headland that forms the entrance, and my voice echoed sharply bacK as I
paddled along below.  Then there were blankets of green, and the shrill
hum of the cicadas drifted out over the silent waters to me.  I recorded
then on tape.  I photographed the little village of Rumahsokat, which hung
half out over the water on stilts.  Then I approached Sawai and
photographed it also in the perfect, slanting rays of the late afternoon
sunlight.

I had seldom ever heard such a babble of wild voices as greeted me when I
landed at Sawai.  It was unbelievable.  Hundreds of people materialized
almost instantaneously, it seemed, and every one of them was shouting at
the top of his voice, and I don't believe there could have been anyone of
them that could really tell for sure what the other was saying.  It seems
that for almost a generation or so no white man had ever been seen at
Sawaii, and many of the children and young people had never seen a sight
like the sight of me (although I was so dark from the sun by now that
people seldom noticed me anymore when I passed by at a little distance).
I just had to grin and bear it all.  I had had the same experience before
when I arrived that time at Pelau with my Matangi tonga.  The chief led me
home, then he or someone else led me to the bath.  There throngs gathered
to watch the spectacle of me trying to get clean.  I remained grave and
just washed myself as if no one was looking.  They shouted and roared when
I had to scrub my private parts beneath the trunks I was wearing.  Of
course there was no such thing as the crudest of bath-huts there, and
everyone that had been washing or bathing at the stream, if they had not
come after me with the crowd, had paused to scrutinize me.  That must have
been one of the things Paul meant when he wrote about becoming a
gazingstock.  I saw it as one of the undesirable parts of my duty.  When I
walked little children, naked and clothed, ran and danced along in front
of me.

That night many people came to me at the chief's house, and they
remembered you and shirley well, and were very glad to see me.  They told
how you and Shirley swam across the bay from Rumah Olat, daring the
sharks, passed out candy to the bright ones, played the accordion, etc.,
etc.  Best of all they remembered many choruses, and the chief himself,
once one of your pupils, sang a couple of choruses for you on my tape,
which I hope to bring when I come.  Of course it is needless to say that
many send you greetings.

There was a fine spirit of receptiveness there, and I testified clearly
late into the night.  All those old ones seem to love us at heart, and I
think that there will be a great harvest yet at Sawai.  One named
Jakarias saw that I had only one paddle, and brought me a fine spare.

I was up and ready before daylight on the morning of the 6th.  The Guru
Maba and the chief (the Guru had spent the night on the same bed as I in
the chief's house) led me down to my canoe in the dark ness, and we had
launched her, and I was off ere I could really see where I was going.  I
arrived at wahai some time that afternoon after a day of hard paddling,
contrary wind, waves, and sun.  Dode and Hans were there and came to greet
me.  Ama's other sister, Kade, was also there.

We opened our campaign on Thursday night, the 8th, and my sermon was on the
five steps to salvation: hearing, believing, regretting, repenting, and
being reborn.

I preached for seven nights, and every night it got better.  I kept making
invitations but none would come forward until on the second to the last
night a lad named Elias fell under the power during song service and started
confessing his sins at the top of his voice.  We could hardly go on.  I
went back and ministered to him while the others sang on.  people gathered
outside the open walls.  The power didn't leave the boy.  I went to Dode,
who was leading, and asked her to turn the service directly over to me
rather than go on with other formalities.  She did, and I preached a
spontaneous message from acts 2 (Peter's sermon) that really seemed to
sink in.  The boy was still under the power during most of my message, so
that the people standing outside could see what I was talking about from
Acts 2 as it was happening.  "This boy isn't drunk, as some of you may
think!" The boy grew silent part way through service, and that night a
young girl and a boy came forward to surrender.

Next afternoon, that of May 15th, Elias came to the afternoon prayer
service.  I asked those who would like to seek for the Spirit to come
forward, and several children and young people did.  Among them was Elias.
 After I had laid hands on them individually we prayed.  I knew that the
spirit of baptism was there, but I felt their faith waver.  I sang
choruses, and soon the power began to fall on Elias and a girl.  She
merely got to the crying stage, but ELias fell under the power again, and
prayed in a loud voice, fairly lost in the spirit.  People began to throng
outside, Elias prayed inspiredly, not like a boy trying to pray, but as if
his job had been praying for 20 years.  He began to pray for people to be
filled with the spirit, got to where he started to ask for them to speak
with tongues, got to the word tongues, halted, said it, and was
instantaneously filled with that tongue-speaking spirit himself.  Those
outside stood in awe.  Many of them were of his age group.  Most evidently
knew him personally.  He went back into Malay, but got wonderful
revelations, some new to me and rattled off deep metaphores.  Then he
seemed to hear himself and be amazed, and lapse into glory.  This lasted I
don't know how long, till the other members of the congregation grew weary
and went home, leaving me and Elias reveling in the Spirit, and the
heathen watching amazed outside.  When I saw that Elias was getting too
weary to continue much longer I stood up and addressed those outside, and
asked them if they knew this boy.  They said that they did.  I then asked
them if this were of God or if Elias were putting on.  There was
controversy, but I sensed that most new that Elias couldn't do that
himself.  Then I went on and preached a spontaneous sermon to them, and
felt it sink deep in.

That night the place was fairly packed, inside and out, and I preached on
the 7 shouts of victory from Revelation.  A couple of small boys came
forward for salvation that night.  There was a tremendous spirit of
revival in the air, and everyone seemed on fire.  After service I taped
the Chinese girls singing "Sweet Jesus" with all their might, they playing
the guitar and ukulele themselves.  I feel that this isn't the end for
Wahai.

During my stay there I met an Oom Jan Watimuri, a Eurasian who well
remembered you, but is now a little bit tetched, and over eighty years
old, I believe, but very spry.  I got his picture, and hope to show it to
you.

Next day, the 16th, Tangiia and I said farewell to Wahai, and that
afternoon arrived at the animist village of Opin in the rainy afternoon.
There I didn't find a receptive spirit among the animists, but testified
tirelessly to a young teacher from Uen.  I forgot to mention that Uen is
only about one kilometer from (east of) Sukaradja.

The 17th I paddled the little distance to Sawai, and there began looking
for transportation for Tangiia and myself to Ambon.  Incidentally, the
night before I dreamed of you and the USA, and that I helped you use a
heater.

 Next day was Sunday, the 18th of May, and I paddled across to Rumah Olat,
and went to the service at the Protestant church.  The Secretaris Clasis
for the Wahai area was there, and when I testified about repentance he
said that he understood what I meant, and that afternoon (after lunch at
his house) they asked me to speak at a youth service.

I had heard that you had had the use of the old Protestant church when you
were there during the fruit season, 30 years ago.  This day I preached my
classic sermon on the death of Adam, and there was rapt attention all the
way through, and I really think they almost wished I wouldn't stop.  It
was a clear message of salvation and receiving the Holy Spirit into their
lives, and they loved it, and the Secretaris Klassis praised it, and said
that he wasn't satisfied, and that some time I should return to Rumah Olat
to which there seemed to be generally unanimous agreement.  There was a
light snack at the house after the service and we sat talking.

Well, Mother, I have been doing nothing but writing you this letter all
day, and I am getting a little sick and fed up with so much work over one
masterpiece, and am just going to fill you in on a little more of the main
points and let it go at that.

I went to Jakarias' house while I was at Sawai, and prayed the sinner's
prayer with him repeating after me at his own request, and he said that he
awaits the day that I return from America and come again to Sawai.  I
didn't get transportation at Sawai as planned, but set out paddling
Tangiia again, arriving at Warasiwa the first day (night) and at Taniwel
the next.  On the third day I had passed that infamous Kaliwei beach and
was rounding the great capes toward Tanduru when a prahu agreed to take me
to Ambon for Rp1,000 (over $2.50).  I didn't know what I was in for at the
time, but it turned out to be an ordeal for me.  All in all I was on the
prahu (Garuda Laut, from Buton) 5 days and four nights.  We had run out of
food, and the last two meals of the 5rd day consisted of nothing but sago
meal fried with a little grated coconut.  I had found that morning that
the water was putrid, so didn't drink all the rest of thAt day or night,
so had my sago meal dry on top of it all.  I was already suffering a
little with stomach discomfort by then, but perhaps worse, £ had developed
a boil below my lip on my chin.  It hurt, and what was worse was the
sleeping conditions, which made my body sore, both because there wasn't
enough room, and because of the uneven surfaces.  When we arose that last
morning after being tossed around all night long out in front of Tanjung
Alang, and I could understand the lay of the land, I paid the man his
Rp1,000 and bid them farewell.  We had been out in the middle between
Alang and Nusaniwe points, but still outside the bay.  The breeze was
contrary, and they probably had to tack about all day or more ere they
reached Ambon.  The big thing that I had in my favour was that the time of
the shift of the tides had come, and I had the current with me.  I paddled
against the wind for some time.  During some periods I couldn't even make
Nusaniwe out in the golden haze.  When I saw that I was fairly well into
the bay, however, I cut in to Tanjung Nama.  As I paddled landward my
course converged with that of a school of black whales, and one that was
plowing along my way, I saw, would surface almost right under me If I just
paddled forward a bit.  I did.  There was a moment of doubt as to what
might happen if he were really to surface right under me and be surprised,
but he didn't.  He was only a few feet off, however, and I got an
excellent view of his fin and middle section, though my failing eyes
failed to make out much more.

I got water from the pancoran at Tanjung Nama, and there a Latuhalat
woman asked me where I was from, and when I told her my story she took
pity on me and gave me some kasbi and a  slice of fish for a lunch.  My
stomach got better later, after I had drunk of the water and stopped to
eat out on the sea.  I couldn't find anywhere to land my canoe at Ambon,
so paddled all the way to Kate2, where I found no Americans, but Tante
Baba was there and cooked for me, and I went to the evening prayer service
where Keri preached, and spent the night there.

Sorbo was here but left just a few days before I arrived with wife and
kids for Ternate.  He spoke at the dedication of the new church, about
which we heard in detail over the radio at Wahai.  Inggu is already gone
to Java on his way to Manila for conference, and Paul is due to fly out
tomorrow.  I am here waiting for news from Morris on my round-trip ticket,
and to get my Immigration papers taken care of.  Today is Mohammed's
birthday, and all the offices are closed.  I have received two letters
from you, only about 2 days apart, the last telling me that you had
deposited or were depositing the money in Morris' account.  I would very
much like to be in time, and join Paul and Inggu for the conference in
Manila in June.  At any rate I am hoping and praying to see you soon.  I
arrived at Kate2 day before yesterday.

Praise the Lord! This is all for now.  May God bless you.

Yours truly,

End letter.

Next letter:

Liang, 15 March 1973.

Dear Mother,

It is about eight o'clock in the morning here, as I write to you, and I find myself faced with the impossible fact that I have just turned 31.  It seemed that theme of my life for all day yesterday was "HOW EMPTY THE WORLD IS".  The older I get, the more I realize that despite all it's cracked up to be, the world is nothing more than an empty crust, beneath whose thin facade forever lurks unbearable suffering and sorrow.  Out of all this waxes my interdependence on the reality of Christ, and that without Him we are truly lost.  As I prayed with Charlotta in the church at dusk, I felt flooded with the presence of the power of the Holy Ghost, and felt somewhat comforted as I knelt in the presence of the God I love.  I only wish I could see farther into the future, and understand more of the will of God, but I know, now, not to expect too much.  Of course, my present state of mind suffers heavily from re-impact with the realities of this dismal place to which I have just returned.

I had been away for about a month.  Hiring Atus to carry my suitcase, and taking Salehong as my guide, I left Liang for Leksula on the 10th of February, bound for Ambon.  That was a Saturday, the day the boat was supposed to arrive from Ambon.  As it turned out, there was no boat for Ambon until the following Thursday afternoon.  During that time, I relaxed, visited, met a Japanese Dr. named Turao Ota, and got some action from the KPS on the adat kawin issue.  It was good to be at Leksula, and to chat and banter with Cak's family, where I stayed during the time, and I could see that between Liang and Leksula--a mere 2.5 hour hike for most people--was a gap of at least a century in human development (if, in this, you can measure human development in centuries, which you obviously can't).  Cak's family helped me aboard the little M.V. "DIRTARA," and I was on my way to Ambon.  The crew were exceptionally kind, and there were not many other passengers, and I had one of the most pleasant passages on a Govt. vessel from Buru to Ambon that I can remember.  I had a comfortable seat in the wheelhouse, and the sea was glassy smooth.  They gave me rice and salt fish to eat at dinner time, and a mug of hot tea or coffee in the morning, and we had the docks at Ambon by mid-morning.  The kindly young skipper, Cawu (Saul), phoned Cu Kaihatu, and she sent her next-door neighbor's Japanese jeep down to pick me up.

On the following Saturday, the 17th, I returned to Kate2 with Margy Brown, and preached in the morning and evening services there the following day.  I returned with Kerry to Ambon the next day, and was surprised when he brought me a gift of four tins of sweetened condensed milk, which he said was from Kate2.  I thought it was from Margy, but was surprised again to learn later that it was a gift from the Kate2 church.  On Tuesday, the 20th, I returned to Kate2 on the back of Inggu's scooter for a meeting with the Majelis Daerah, but only Kerry and Inggu were there, though Margy sat in.  In this meeting, at least, I got them to form the "Penitia Pembangunan", something that could so easily have been done months before.  They chose Inggu as chief, Kerry as deputy, and Mon as treasurer, and agreed to let me go ahead with the Wahai church first.  Inggu agreed to come to Buru in March, so, though they would not lengthen my written commission to work in Liang, Inggu agreed to give me a copy of his cable to Martin Lesnusa in which he forbade Martin to relieve me of my duties, complete with signature and stamp.  With these assurances I felt somewhat more secure, but reiterated my threat to part company with the Assemblies unless justice is done to our work in Buru.  This is now one of the unfortunate aspects to my life--watching and waiting to see what happens, and not knowing from one day to the next but what I will suddenly have to abort all efforts with the Assemblies, which would then disrupt my already chaotic life into fragments.

That night I started my campaign meetings at Paul Matatula's house at Kudamati.  You may remember him. the small thin fair-skinned fellow you once reprimanded for not taking his wife along in the company of girls.  He is also a leper, but they think they can cure him if he continues treatment straight through for a couple of years.  There is a critical rift in the work between Mon and Inggu now, which has its roots mainly in Mon's uncooperative spirit, it seems, but with plenty of spice from Inggu's shortcomings.  Though this new work in Kudamati has contributed to the problem, and is seen by some as a fracture from the Ambon church, I had no compunctions about accepting the invitation to preach there.  It is my opinion that good competition is exactly what the Ambon church badly needs.  I have also long held the opinion that the Ambon church has not been effective in the spreading of the Gospel.  My hopes were dashed long ago when I saw that this beautiful new church building was not to be used as a vehicle for evangelization but as a talent display for the wearisome church elders.

My evangelistic services at Kudamati went beautifully.  I preached the Gospel straight out, bringing righteousness and sin into rigid contrast.  On the first Sunday morning, the 25th, a woman was baptized in the Holy Ghost, and the following Sunday morning, her husband was likewise filled.  He is a political prisoner at xxx, and only allowed to go home on Sundays.  That he had come forward along with his wife the first Sunday, the place had been too crowded, and, not realizing that he was a prisoner, and could not return to the other services, I let him go till later.  On the second Sunday, understanding the situation, I wouldn't give up, and though he merely wept for an hour or so, we prayed straight through with him until he fell on the floor and was filled.

These meetings were often attended by a remarkable young Chinese girl named Ona
Tan, who amazed me by being able to enter into the Spirit and give messages in
tongues which were interpreted by Inggu on both Sundays. On the second Sunday,
during the song service, we were singing a chorus, which she started singing out
in tongues. This she repeated several times, then started singing her own tune
in the Spirit, which had a ring of beauty about it that I recognized as being
of the Holy Ghost. It was after this that she went on to speak in tongues and
Inggu interpreted—a message that matched my sermon perfectly, though I hadn't
breathed a word to Inggu about what I was to speak on that morming. Cu and Inggu
no longer attend the Ambon church, but now attend regularly at Kudamati, where
Paul Matatula is pastor. They have a beautiful beginning, but will have to get Matatula filled or refilled with the Holy Ghost if that work is to be successful, I feel. During all the time that Mon has been in Ambon, and Inggu attended his
services, I don't think Mon ever once had Inggu speak in one of the regular services.
I find it impossible to understand him (Mon), and often wonder if he is sane.
I kept on with my meetings at Kudamati until the night before I left for Buru,
and on that last night several came forward, and we feel that at least one girl
really gave her heart to the Lord. She seemed to receive everything, and wept and
wept. Cu seemed to think she might be pregnant. If so, I hope that her troubles
have driven her through to real salvation. I don't think that I have ever enjoyed
such good will and reverence during any evangelistic campaign I have held in the
Moluccas as I did at Kudamati, where the people were so silent I would think no
one was there until I said something funny, when I would hear many laughing
voices, and new that many people were intently listening. We had moved out into
the open air after the first Sunday, and it was lovely and cool out there compared
to the heat of the cramped houses of Ambon. Maybe they were so reverent because of
my beard, which I had let grow out for some months in Buru. Cu told me not to
cut it off, because she thought I needed the prestige it gave me, so I just
left it, though it had been my intention to cut it off after parading it a bit
in Ambon. Somuch for the campaign.

I have not been able to make ends meet these past few months, and had
lots of expenses in Ambon, mainly to pay for a new      battery for the Sidadauan, which
cost me about $55. In my difficulties I took about $50 from that money you
designated for building a house, but I still need another fifty dollars or so
to really get me back on my feet, as I haven't been able to pay Cak's wages for
over four months. I only fear that I shall be plunged further doun the ladder
by the Sidadauan, about which I will tell you more later.

I boarded the M.V. "VEYBER" in the evening on the 6th of March, 1973,
and we pulled out of the harbouar at about nine P.M., bound for Leksula. Aboard
with me were two new graduates from the Protestant Theological Institute at
Tanalapangkecil, Ambon. One of them called himself Sahetapi, but the other
was none other than Tolo (Bartholomeu) Patikaua, youngest son of the old Guru
Patikawa of Hunut, who passed away last year. Tolo was bound for a post at
Waeturen, and Sahetapi for Waemulan, both within a day's paddling distance to the
west from Leksula. Bert Solisa's wife was also aboard, and she helped me keep
track of my things. I sat perched on the edge of the hatch near her feet, on the
starboard side. That night, after we had passed Cape Alang, the north wind rose,
and our little boat laboured under the blows of the seas, which swept the deck
below my feet, and drenched me in spray. I could not keep warm. Finally I managed
to crawl back over the drums to the deck house, where I got out of the reach of
the spray, though not the wind, and got a measure of warmth by standing near the
engine-room companionway. I was weary, and had been suffering
from a cold,
and pains in ny left lung, and time and again I caught myself coming down as
my knees buckled under me after dozing off and even dreaming. Water splashed in
through the door onto my feet, and the lurching of the boat made it a little danger-
ous to be standing e near the companionway in my condition. Towards dawn they
showed me a little space on a mat where i could lay part of my body and rest. I felt
thankful for the Sidadawan that night, thinking that, whatever suffering I had
had to go through aboard her was nothing compared to this. There was no breakfast
for me this time, and Cak's people didn't feed me when I arrived, perhaps a
little after noon of the 7th, so that despite my weariness and suffering I had
to fast until dusk, when Cak and I sat down to the evening meal. That night
I was exposed to the hordes of mosquitoes that now infest Leksula. The following
day, the eighth, Rame turned up from Liang, and with her I was able to
send a letter and some gifts to Charlotta, who had been keeping house. That
afternoon, miraculously, there was an east wind, and leaving Leksula at a quarter
to four in the afternoon, Cak and I reached Kawiri at about seven in the evening.
I was so weary that I don't know what I would have done mithout that east wind,
I nean should we have had to paddle that big kole2 all the may to Kauiri.
That night we tried to start the Sidadauan, but she wouldn't budge. Cak's
younger brother, Eli, had been watching Sidadauan for him, and he fed us
an evil fish soup concoction that he had brewed, plus some kasbi and sweetpotatoes.

Eli led me back to the Sidadawan, where I spent the night alone, and got a
fairly good night's sleep, though I moke up to a fit of coughing once when it was
raining outside, and the humidity got too high. I turned around so that my head
was under the starboard porthole, then slept on. I regret that I  don't have the
time to go through all the details of my experiences at Kawiri here, as I am sure
they will all be lost from memory later. Let it suffice to say that, after working
through the day (the 8th), and part of the next (the 9th), me had to give up in
temporary defeat. The engine is simply frozen--why I could not determine.
We even tried turning it over with the giant pipe wrench I have aboard--all
without any success whatsoever. On the afternoon of the 8th I was foolish enough
to manage to plunge our little outboard under water on a trial run, so that we
couldn't use that on our kole2 to return to Leksula. In the evening on the 8th
I testified to a group of girls who came to see me at dinner time at the store
which also Eli was watching. In the evening on the ninth, as me waited for the
rains to stop and the land breeze to start running, I testified to a group of
boys, who put pertinent questions to me right up until the time of departure,
when they all ment down to the stream with us to help launch the heavy kole2
over some low tide rocks at the stream's mouth. They were gay and       congenial, and I
felt drawn to them.  Fortunately the days at kawiri--hard work, fresh air, relaxation
--had done my body some good, for Cak and I had to paddle a good deal of the may
back to Leksula.  We caught good land breezes off the Tifu Bay entrance,
but they had all but completely vanished ere we reached the Mepa reef. It seemed that
the currentt was with us, however, and we reached Leksula as the roosters were
crowing before dawn, and, after ending the heavy kole2 around about three times
till it was out of the reach of the sea, made for Cak's house, and some rest.
I had dozed as I sat in the kole2, but sleep didn't come so easily at the house.
It was Sunday morning, the 10th, but I didn't make it to
church until the evening service, when, mouldn't you know it, an elder got
up and preached. There had been throngs of people outside, which I have little doubt
had come to hear me, but they all left shortly after the elder got started.
The elder was Martin's father. I don't think Martin was in the service at all. It
seems he dosn't regularly attend evening services, perhaps because he has to
stay home and watch the kids. I seem to have gotten mixed up on my dates somemhere,
for Sunday mould have had to be the eleventh for it to be the 15th today, Thursday,
right? Well, close enough. On Monday, the 12th we found people from Liang
selling their wild cloves for ten rupiahs a cupak at the stores, and I got people
both to carry my suitcase and to lead me back over the long hard trail. The brand
new sandals I had bought in Ambon for Rp45 tore apart on one side, which made me
dissappointed. We met some people with durian who said that they would sell for
Rp25 each, but when I received them •they turned out to be only about the size of
a grapefruit,—probably the smallest I had ever seen.  I felt badly cheated,
but still enjoyed the thin layers of meat that covered the large pits. Enos-tama,
my guide, had not eaten since morning, and was weak as water (he isn't very
strong to begin with), but revived a little when a woman let him take some
cucombers from her field. Charlotta didn't seem particularly happy to see me
when I arrived here, and I seem to be in for trouble, though I am hoping and trusting
in the Lord to help me through it. She had led a school teacher on. His name is
Agus Sambono, a tanimbar islander, and far from a Christian. He had been stationed
at Waemulan, but it turns out that about a week after I left here he showed up,
and now stays at Liang and teaches at Waebohit. The whole thing was like a
staggering, crushing blow to me, and left me so upset that I ran off to my bowels,
was up time after time, and couldn't sleep till not long before dawn that first
night. Charlotta is not bright, and I have often had trouble with her because of
lying, but she has much improved. It seems that when I had had to let her go
before she had taken up with this fellow, who had asked her to marry him, She
had agreed, on condition that he repent and be born again. He had come to church
a few times at Leksula. On the following afternoon, the 23rd, he came here and had
a long conversation with me, overheard by Ota (Charlotta), in which it became
distinctly clear that he had no intention of repenting or changing his beliefs in
any may. As he left I heard him stop and exchange words in subdued tones
with Charlotta outside. She claims that she broke up with him then, but that he said he wouldn't accept.   She also claims that she never really loved him
at all, but cannot explain how she could have given consent to marry him if he
repented when she says she couldn't marry without falling in love. Now you can
clearly see my predicament, as I have to rely on this girl so much. She claims that
he came to the house from time to time to talk to her, but that he never so much
as kissed her, nor she him, and the kids do say that they slept with her during
the time I was away. The thing that tears me up, though, is my knowledge of the
people with whom I deal, whose will is shifty and week as water, and having been
lied to often, my heart cannot really trust anymore. I can only wait and hope.
Meantime, my relationship with Charlotta has deteriorated. Her respect for me
seems to have gone, not to mention her love, which once made it pleasant for her
to help and serve me, and that made her show kindness to me again and again,
even long after I had had to let her go.  I had to believe that God had
somehow ordained her to be this way, and the only person I could even remotely rely upon. now I seem to feel this slipping through my fingers like melting ice.

I am just casting all my burdens on Jesus, knowing that I will stick with Him
through it all, and that He will be with me all the way.  Meantime I have been taking
special time to reason and pray with Charlotta, and am trying to get her back
into touch with the Holy Spirit as a way of life, which seems to be the only
happy way out.  If I have learned one thing, it's this: people who love the Lord
love me, and are faithful to me.  This is what has been able to bring me through
all the differences of opinion and bitter disputes and all the rest--the unity
of the spirit that is in me with the spirit that is in other true believers.
This is something that I have difficulty finding in the Moluccas of late.

On Sunday night, the 11th, I went to talk to Ongko Lanking after the evening
service.  He agreed to tow Sidadawan back to Leksula with his boat, the Laut
Buru, for Rp2,500 as soon as his boat returns from Namlea.  I am waiting on news that
the Sidadawan has arrived at Leksula.  Then I will go to Leksula on a Monday,
start dismantling the engine, and return the following Saturday, continuing
the process for as long as it takes to determine the cause of the trouble and find
the cure.  I cannot afford to hire a man to do the work from Ambon, and I don't
know what amount of money will finally be involved before Sidadawan is running
again.  I am just hoping and praying.

It now appears, however, that my tentative plans for returning to the
States in May will simply have to be abandoned.  It breaks my heart to do this,
knowing how much you long to see me, and I you, and not knowing just how much
longer we will have the opportunity of enjoying such a visit, and all the rest;
but I can't see what else I can do.  I am still hoping to return to you after
erecting the Wahai church, howeer, and all we need for that now is the Sidadawan
running and some men.  Please pray that God will help me and stand beside me through
these difficult times for this blind man.  I especially need God's help for my
body, which has been under great stress.  It seems that I suffer physically
as a direct result of whatever evil happens to be happening around me in the
material world.  I mean that all the sin and hypocrisy and unfaithfulness simply
make me physically ill.  This, coupled with the diet and living conditions makes
it a miracle of God's mercy that I can keep my head above water, and the problem
will become more acute if I have more trouble with Charlotta and if I have
to keep up the rugged routine of trekkiing back and forth to Leksula
and living away from home for too long.

So much for now.  This will give you a clear picture of how things are with
me now.  I am physically well, aside from the slight stomach
upset that still persists because of the stress of the moment.  I am confident,
though, and know that better and bigger things are ahead, like Inggu said in
one of the interpretation messages that seemed to be directed at, or partly at, me.
I am thankful and grateful because I know that God is still with me, and He is
blessing me, and improving me for the work ahead, I know.

God Bless you, and keep you, and bind your soul with Him in the bundle of
life.
					With my love,
					Joe.

End letter.

Next letter:

15 February 1974

Dear Mother,

I am still with the Seawards here in Singapore. I wanted to call you up
since night before last, but the telephone company here is nasty, and they
won't let me make a long distance call to you because they say the Seawards
haven't paid some bill or something. Maybe this is better, so I'll just write,
and not use all that money, even if it does take some more time.

I have heard no word whatsoever from William Roberts, and begin to wonder
if He ever intends to do anything about what I called you up about. Of
course, I haven't written to him, either, because i sort of don't know what
to say to him until he decides to do what he promised he mould do. I have
written to Jim Swanson, however, telling him that I have left the Assemblies,
stating my reasons, telling him that I was temporarily no longer involved in
church building in Indonesia, and asking him if he wanted to use the money
his church gave on some other field or would be interested in allowing me to
apply all or part of it to the purchase of a boat for (the building of a
boat for) the floating theological training center project. I have also written
to Bro. Lucas, asking if he wants me to return building funds ($675.00) that
I have from him, or whether the people that gave it want me to use it on the
boat project.

As far as the boat project itself, the Lord has worked out all things well
for me. Please pay particular attention to this paragraph, as what I am writing
here is the main purpose of this letter, and is what I mould have talked about
to you had I been able to get in touch with you by phone.
Available to me here now is a smaller boat, the Maranatha, which Peter Rullm ann
built five years ago for use in Papua. It is a beautiful little boat, well-
equipped, and complete with sails. It is forty feet long, and the Sidadawan
was 21 , so you can imagine hou much larger it is. Despite some friction, of
which I wrote to you, Maureen now agrees to return with me to Ambon if I
purchase the "Maranatha". The naranatha has beds, kitchen, folding galley
table, powered by YANMAR diesel engine, comes complete with compass, binoculars,
radio telephone, and other accessories. We have examined it, and it is in
good condition. For it Peter is asking me tuentyfive thousand Singapore dollars,
which is roughly $10,200. {ten thousand two hundred dollars   U.S.).
This price seems reasonable, and according to Peter's own words, he could sell
it easily for over twice as much on the open market but dosn't want to
because it was built in faith from offerings for missionary work. The only
reason he wants money for it at all is because he is afraid it might sink
or fall to dissuse, or somehow otherwise fail to serve its purpose if it
went to a new owner who did not have some financial responsibility for it.
Also, he is intending to move to Indonesia very soon, and needs enough money
to build at least one new boat there to get his operation under way.
what I want to do now, is buy this boat, if necessary borrouing part of the
money, and use it for the next few months to get my operation under way, while
at the same time waiting upon God to provide the funds needed for the bigger
boat that I have in mind. with this smaller "Maranatha", I will be able to
see beforehand what difficulties or snaggs I may encounter, etc., begin my
work, and, hopefully, acquire students. If the larger boat materializes, or,
for some reason my idea fails, all I will have to do mould be to resell the
Maranatha, which shouldn't be too hard, especially if I sell it in the Moluccas,
where boats are in such short supply. The greatest risk is that the Maranatha
could be wrecked or confiscated, but I have done well with the Sidadawan
(remember, I wasn't aboard or anywhere near when they let it sink), and I
am trusting God that he will protect the "Maranatha" if she becomes mine.
She will be registered in my own name, and from the American embassy here I
can get a "CERTIFICATE OF AMERICAN OWNERSHIP", about which I have already
asked. This will allow me to fly the American flag, which should give me respect
in Indonesian waters. Can you provide me quickly with ten thousand dollars?
If all my accounts were liquidated, including that in Faith Church of Downey,
I think I mould have about four thousand. If you could somehow raise or lend
the remaining six I would be in business, and on my way back while the west
winds are still blowing. If this money has to be borrowed, I have (100 per
month coming in from Faith Church which is earmarked for boat ministry.
I could guarantee this as long as they are supporting me.  Please try
to work something out, and let all my supporters know what I am doing,
and, if necessary, that the Assemblies has taken the Sidadawan.

The Lord seems to be wonderfully working everything out for me, and I
have had a great peace about it all from the beginning. I can't recall once
feeling unhappy or regretful about leaving the Assemblies, but instead have
felt as if I am breathing clean air again, and am happy to be rid of the
unfortunate affiliation I had had with them. I do feil, houever, that I
have profited enormously in my years with them from being able to see the
pitfalls and mistakes that are prone to besett whatever work I may attempt
to undertake in the Moluccas hereafter. I have no hatred toward anyone,
but look at those who have opposed me as victims of circumstances, and of their
own mental drittes and inhibitions. I just feel that the time has come for
God to do an entirely new thing, and I am banking on the belief that he will.
Lite have gone as far as we ever will be able to with the Assemblies. now '; t is
time to take the knowledge that we have gained in our years with them and
applyit in a way that will bring God's work to a new and higher plane of
developement in that field.

I am still hoping that Roberts comes to his senses about this thing, but
if he dosn't, I am ui 5.11.''n r to do without him, even though it means being
left with far less wherewithal to do my work. I don't build my confidence in
men, and I know surely that if he dosn't want to deal honestly, God will
raise up someone else, or many other people to replace him. Rake sure, there-
fore, that if he refuses to send me the statement he has promised he no longer
uses my name on his broadcasts. I don't want to break with him, and am still
hoping, because I think that he could raise the exact amount I need for the
whole floating theological training center project in a very short time;
but I don't even want to know about it if he wants to be dishonest.  what do
you think is happening?

I have sent Linda a tape, telling her all about everything, because
she asked me to. Maybe she would let you hear it too. Please be careful not
to be unkind to dear Linda, because she has never been anything but good to
both of us, and me cannot expect her to have any special burden for Indonesia
unless it were really the will of God to call her there for some express pur-
pose. Right? After all, Indonesia is not the most desirable place in the
world, and neither are the people. You are right: about the way she feels about
me though, and I think she would do just about anything to make me happy. My
feelings for her, houever, were evidently not so deep, and since being away
from her I now feel sure that I don't intend to ever marry her, though I
will always treasure her friendship dearly.

Enclosed you will find a summary of the advantages of the floating
theological training center as I see them. These are crudely done, so be
careful that they don't fall into the hands of just anybody. I have been
overly frank on this first draft, trying to get everything down exactly as
I see it. From this I hope to work out a recording on cassette in a day
or two, presenting a mellower tone and leaving out some of the negative
elements. This will make the  idea seem less vital and have less impact, perhaps;
but will also take out some of the sting of bare truth for those who tend to
see things less distinctly contrastic than in the terms in which I have
presented them.  (Hope all that makes sense to you, cause it sure seems
abstruse to me).

Please QO over these notes, end try to understand them for yourself, so that
you can help present my idea to tohose who seem interested, as i-iell as grasp
ii'hat I am doinn yourself. Remember, to make this succeed, I need not only
money, butspiritual backing and prayer. I want this thin-: to have the blessing
of those who know.

Are you still planning to come out to this part of the world this
year? The greatest thing would be to have you along for the passage through
Indonesia to Ambon, but I fear that it would be far too arduous an undertaking
for you now. If you could join us at Ambon, houever, we might be able to have
some wonderful times together uandering the villages i-.iith this bigger,
more comfortable boat. Anyhoiii, do as the Lord leads you.

Thank you for bearing with me through this long epistle. I was happy to
hear that Kim was with you, and hope that he is happy and well. Please give
my regards to Jimmy and her husband, and also the people who are renting
your house. I will try to send Aida a Braille letter one of these days.
I hope she got the one that I sent to you from Ambon so long ago. god is
uonrinrful, and he is blessing here. This coming Sunday I am going to
speak to the youth group of a Lutheran church and pray with them to receive
the Holy Spirit (some have and some haven't, including the pastor, who invited me and wants me to pray for him too).  So much for now.  Love, Joe.

End letter.

Next letter:

Singapore
26 April 1974

Dear Mother,

Yesterday, finally, we got the Maranatha cleared into my name. I renamed
her the "Metikei," which is Moluccan, and has no religious significance.
I am paying Singapore $25,000 for her, which took your check, the one from
Roberts, and the one from Faith, plus a thousand Singapore dollars from
Bethel Church here, and some other money of my own. The American dollar
took an unfortunate plunge just at the time I was about to pay for the boat,
so I lost over a hundred U.S. dollars in the deal; but I am still happy.
The rate yesterday, when I payed for the boat, was Singapore $2.3815 per
American dollar. I cashed all checks yesterday with the exception of the one
from Roberts, which was on the Bank of Canton here, and they are going to
cash that one for me on today's rate. I only hope the rate doesn't take another
plunge today.

Attached you will find a copy of the bill of sale. Please put this in
my drauer in your living room when you are done looking at it. I want it
as a spare in case the original somehow got destroyed.

I am planning on going down to the Indonesian Embassy later today to
apply for permits to sail into Indonesian waters. Then it will be all the
last minute preparations, I hope, and off we go.

The Metikei has a nice little two-way radio in it, and with this we hope
to maintain contact, for awhile at least, with friends in
Singapore.

Peter, Steve, and Judy just stopped by to pick up all the tinned food
here to bring it doun to the boat. Maureen has been staying aboard for the
last couple of weeks or so, and has been working hard to get everything
ready. She is now in the process of fixing up the little front cabin for me.
It is really going to be nice, and Like I said before, I will never have
lived in such luxury in all my missionary work. The only battle left nou,
houevar, is really the greatest one of all--that with the Indonesian authorities.
I am depending upon God for help in all these situations •that are bound to
arise.

I haven't heard from you for some time, and I hope that you are okay.
Too bad John Buckle has deserted us, I used to like him so much. I suppose that
Jimmy Workman is still helping you to shoot rattlesnakes, though. Please give
them my regards, if you can remember to do so.

Speaking of sending greetings to people, I was over at some new church
the other day called "Trinity Christian Center" (A. of G.), and a couple called
Sonny and Keng walked up to me and shook my hand, and Keng had put Singapore
$15 into my palm. They said if I wrote to you to be sure and send them
you their greetings. They say that you used to pastor them at Elim, and that
you also married them there, and they love you. They are both working in offices now.

Well, I'm just back from the Indonesian Embassy about an hour ago now,
and they say we all have to have visas, and I brought home application forms
for all of us. Then, when we all have visas (they mill only grant for one
month to b extended in Indonesia), they will give us a permit to sail into
Indonesian waters. This permit will also last for one month, to be extended in
Indonesia. And so it goes--the beginnings of my woes.

I have been praying for you, and hope this letter will find you in
good health and happiness. It was wonderful to talk to you on the phone, and
I feel sorry that I can't afford to call you more often, since I am here. I
hope all will go well for your planned trip out next year. If the "Metikei" is
comfortable, perhaps we could go for a ride and do some evangelistic work
somewhere together again. Please pray that God will work everything outt so
that our time will not be taken up in getting government permits and such
foolish things, but that we will have time to really be effective for the Lord.

End letter.

Next letter:

Kagaba Bay
2 July 1976

Dear Mother,

Here I will attempt to set forth an account of my trip to the villages
of Tegano and Hutuna on the shores of Lake Tegano (I am learning that
the people here spell the "ngg" sound with a simple "g," and the "v" sound with
a "b," so I am following them in this thing when writing to other people
about these places since that is the way they will be spelled on the map. For
my oun use, however, I prefer "r" for the "ngg" sound, and "b" for that con-
sonant of theirs which seems to shift from "v" toward "b."

On Friday morning, the 25th of June, 1975, after some coffee and a
native breakfast, and hurriedly stuffing clothing, shoes, walkietalkies and
taperacording equipment into a couple of nylon bags, I went ashore in the
dinghy to where Tauniu, his wife, Tesimo, John, Damarise, and Mordecai
(Tauniu's children), and a girl na'i':.;c '".'-^'•.c 1.1. E' u:^'. i ":"
for us. The name
of this place was Ttrtw^a-g®-,--—^'  Tauniu had spent the night ashore with his
wife in a shelter on the beach,      sather was fins. The Metikei was lying
at anchore rolling in the swell just a little way out beyond the rocks
of the reef that fringed the shore in maybe 20 feet of water. UB landed the
dinghy in small surff on the white sand of the beach, where some strange
creatures--crabs probably--made sounds underground that sounded like
szfi^f distant outboard engines revving and slowing down to a stop again. Tauniu
relieved me of my bags and led me a little way up the beach. Some Polynesian
words passed between Tauniu and Maui, and It was evidently decided that Maui
would lead me as far as the ridge at the top of the cliffs that descended
two or three hundred feet to the beach. Of course the two men were worried
about how I was going to manage to scale these cliffs without accident. I
had brought Tauniu outside once and shown him how easily I could climb
the smooth mast of the Metikei with the boat rocking, but poor Maui
thought that the two of them mould have to carry me all the way to the top
of the cliffs before I mould be able to do any walking at all. He was
very surprised, therefore, when I moved agilely up behind him and kept urging
and prodding him to get farther ahead so as not to be in my way, and when
hee had reached the top, I had still not succeeded in getting him to stop and
warn me less and keep moving ahead so as not to waste time. Of course there
were horrifying drops, but I could care less, since I could not see them,
and I seem to have lost all fear of height with my blindness.  The rocks had
ample toe and handholds, however, so that it was no problem to scale the
cliffs, even though they rose almost vertically in places, and I couldn't
help thinking how easy this going was compared to what I had been used to
In Buru. Sometimes there were also roots to hang onto, but more of the time
it was hard, bare rock. These cliffs are the remains of the edge of an old
atoll which was somehou pushed up out of the sea again to its present
imposing height. I was glad for the opportunity of studying a coral reef
so closely without having to go under water so that I could get a better
idea of what to expect underneath the  water when approaching atoll islands
later on in my journeys. What I found was not comforting, however, and I
am sure that the atoll would have had even steeper edges if left
under the water where erosion would have had less effect.  We halted at the
resting place for the others to catch up with us and rest auhile themselves.
It was like one of the "kandeat-s" of Buru—places where people always stopped
to rest, usually at the top of some pleasant rise or ridge, or near
fresh water, from a long tradition. In Buru the kandeats even have names.

The name of this cliff was Telagu, but I don't know if the restingplace
had ay particular name. Of course it must have afforded a spectacular
view of the sea, which we could hear roaring beneath us. The air was also
filled with the singing of the insects and the birds, and the rocks were
covered with a mat of moss, making the whole aspect of the place lovely,
especially with the east wind sifting through, and the bright sunshine
filtering doun through the leaves.

Tauniu is a large man, fairly tall, and possessed of a paunch in his middle.
He has a clear, masculine voice, and commands a dignified air—or, perhaps
I should say, an aire of Authority. He is very knouledgeable about the old
things of Rennell island, and knows how to read and write; but, true to the
primitive mind, does not do well in things involving any kind of measurement.
He has the character of a primitive, and yet something seems to separate
him from a primitive of say, Buru, though I don't yet understand just what
this is. Perhaps it is his self-confidence and ability to adapt to new things.
He took most of the responsibility for navigating the boat here, and pays
attention and learns things more than his fellow islanders seem to. He had
to stand to steer one full night because the two other men on board

2

could not be relied upon to keep the compass course with no land in sight
ahead.

Unfortunately, his people killed the first nissionaries here at Kagaba Bay,
and the white man (these two missionaries were blacks) did not return to
establish a mission on rennell until Tauniu was a boy. I guess things
didn't move too quickly, so that people of Tauniu's age only received
about 2 years of schooling. It is still remarkable that one who came in
contact with the outside world only during his own lifetime could adapt so
well as Tauniu, however. Maui, like Tauniu, comes from the nobility,
and has very little education, and speaks little English. Like Tauniu, also
he has worked for white people in Honiara, and knows better than other
natives how to deport himself around white people. Maui is smaller in physic,
however, and has a somewhat diminutive personality. He is a master of nothing,
as far as I can ascertain, and does not know the old songs and legends in
detail as does Tauniu. The people here have the legend of Maui, in common
with other Polynesian peoples, and when Tauniu told the story of Maui and
fishing up islands, I immediately associated it with our Maui on board the
boat, which tickled them, but which they thought was incorrect, since
their version of the name for Maui the Hero is Mautikitiki, and they were
adamant in correcting me every time I said Maui tikitiki, as I tended to do
since I knew that their llautikitiki was no one else but our old friend,•Maui
of Hawaii and other islands with an elided "i." Tikitiki has got to be Tiki
of the eastern islands, and I suspect they recognise the word tiki as being
somewhat obscene, though I have not risked asking yet, since it is my under-
standing that the word, in other islands, is closely related to the nalay
word "tikam." Anyhow, I always get a good laugh out of Maui when I call him
nautikitiki. we left Maui to return to the ship from the ridge, and moved
off doun the trail that now sloped inland toward the lake, Tesimo and the
children walking ahead, and Tauniu close in front of me. Tauniu had made
me a "tokotoko, "or walking stick, which I used sometimes for support, some-
times for support, and sometimes for both. With my left hand I would touch
Tauniu's back or one of my bags which he was carrying, and we talked and
Tauniu taught me new words as we Bumbled on over the boulders and loose
chunks and slabs of rock that covered the trail, often naking metallic
tinkling sounds as they teetered under our footsteps. Sometimes we walked
beside big boulders, and in one place we had to walk through a very narrow
gap that ran knee or hip high between two of them. It was here that I learned
their word for narrow, which is "kapikapi." The same root word exists in
different  forms in the Buru language, as do many of their words. In Buruese
es-kapi-h means to clamp, as bamboo wall material between two poles or
strips of bamboo lath, which, in turn, are called es-kapi-t. Another
relative of the same word is gepe, in Ambonese Malay, and so is jepit, in
Indonesian, which in turn seems to be related to sempit. So, you see, these
languages se interrelated in mysterious and wonderful ways that have yet
to b understood. Walking on, we came to a rise, and rested a second time on
top of a little knoll or ridge, also covered with mossy rocks, called
Onggo-ho'ou. Onggo is the Polynesian word Oro or olo, which evidently
means mountain in Hawaii as well, since Olomana is a beautiful cone on the
windward side of Oahu. This word is closely related to the olo of Buruese,
which means head, either of a hunan being or a river, and to udik (r and l
are related to d in Indonesian languages) and hulu. Odo, by the way, is the
Buruese word for think, this hed idea is obviously present in the Rennell
word unggo, however, since unggu means head in their language, and o and u
are forever changing places in Malay-o-Polynesian languages, as in Buru, where
olo is pronounced ulu in the north. Tauniu said that Onggo-ho'ou was about
half way to the lake. We malked on, and the children played noisily and for-
got to move ahead so that we kept slouing doun and Tauniu would have to prod
them on in stern tones. "Bo ake," he would say. "Noka te" something or other.
Bo means go, and ake is roughly equivelant to the Buruese aki, which means
"there," or "yonder." We came to a better path as me drew near to Tenggano
(their version of "Te rano," meaning "the lake") which is the name of the lake
as well as the village we were approaching on the lake shore. Notice how
this rhymes with Tondano, which probably means the same thing. Finally we came
out into what I could tell was a clearing, for the sun shone brightly all
around us, which it had not done in the forest, and we came to the shore of
the lake with the wind blouiing through the palms at the water's edge, and in
our faces. Tauniu led me to the health extension officer's clinic, and the
officer gave me a seat inside when he had finished what he was doing. He
was a nervous little nelanesian who gave me the impression of one who might
have had bad things on his conscience, but we were friends since I had
given him a ride on my boat from Kagaba bay to tuhugago when we first came.
All around the place were a bevy of young girls, but no young men, though
there were one or two old men who came to meet me. theviI'Laae seemed b hae
3
men were off working in the forest. I was later told that there are up
toward 100 other people from Tenggano village now living in Honiara because
they find life there more profitable, interesting, or comfortable. I had
heard about the maids of Rennell Island and their ways. They struck me as
being typical island types, however, not unlike girls one would encountEr
in the Moluccas or New Georgia, and I semed to understand them without much
difficulty. Like the Moluccan girls, they gathered round, laughed and talked
in their language and flirted with machismo in their voices. when I was
about to go I said good bye, and one of them said "I'll see you tomorrow
night." What impresses other white men about them must be their
appearance, which I was unable to see. I suppose that white men notice them,
especially after having been around Melanesian people, since Polynesian
people have that something about their features that is faintly European,
and very attractive, whereas the nelanesian girls are black and frizzy.  I
thought we mould be going directly to the canoes, but Tauniu had other ideas,
and left me standing in short grass while he went again to consult with
I could sense that their society was highly disciplined,
like a village society in Indonesia. Even before I went to the lake this
first time I had received a letter from one of the chiefs warning me that
I was unwelcome unless I gave specific reason for my visit, and threatening
to fine me $50 unless my ship left immediately, etc. This really surprised
me, since the man had never even seen me, and few of the people had, but I
took it as a message from my enemy, the Devil, and determined not to
have any feeling against the old man, took Tauniu doun into the main cabin
and prayed with him about the problem, told him I loved the old man, etc.,
before he left for the lake to give an answer on my account. He had come
back later that day saying that all was well, and that the old man now
welcomed me and even wanted me to say some words at the  S.S.t.L. church at
Niupani. He had been there and shaken hands with me when we entered the
village. As I stood waiting for Tauniu the young girls gathered around me
again, and I passed the tin making pleasant talk with them not forgetting
to tell them of my wife and son. I asked them about school, and found that
they had no higher education in hs latfe area. I thought what a great pity
this was, since Polynesian people elsewhere were known to have good minds and
I had heard the same of these. I urged them to do something to remedy this
explaining that education was the thing in the world today. They did
understand a good deal of English. well, Tauniu finally arrived, and I
once again expected to step into his canoe and be off, but this was not to
be. We had to walk on over a mild path for another 15 minutes or so before
we reached the place where he parked his canoe. Here he spread a bago
mat under the trees and asked me to relax with his wife and another lady
cooked our noon meal. The bagu mat is something like the kokoya mat of
the Moluccas. These nats are not woven but made of broad,
thick leaves seun together side by side. The bagu nats of Rennell seem
softer and better quality than the kokoya mats of the noluccas, however, the
texture of the leaf material evidently heavier, and of a texture about like
upholstery leather, though rougher, of courss.  The spot must have been
beautiful, for the east wind was blowing through the sunny sky, and the
water of the lake was lapping in just a little way from where we were
camping with a sound that was harmless and restful compared to the
roar of the surf on the reefs of tuhugago. now the children gathered at
my elbow, chattering away in their language, of which I was able to catch
only one or two words. I soon had then teaching me, houevar. And they were
wonderful children. More lively than the Melanesian (or perhaps I had just
never been near enough to Melanesian children), they were still well
mannered and sweet, and not roudy like Indonesian children are. They were
just absolutely lovable. I asked for my taperecorder and went to work
learning language from them while Tauniu chatted with another man and
Maui, who had just arrived with two walkietalkies. I forgot to mention that
at Onggoho'ou I had found that the batteries in both walkietalkies were
low, and that here we had met Tauniu's son, Edwin, panting hard evidently
from a fast walk up the trail, who was on his way to
join Maui on the boat, as they weree the ones who were to watch the boat
together while I was gone for one Australian dollar per day. I had sent
the walkietalkies back with Edwin, and he had changed the battery in the
little one, and exchanged the big one for the other one, which I thought
had good batteries. Maui said that while coming he had had contact with Edwin
who was on the boat where he could use the ship's batteries, until he reached
Onggoho'ou, but that contact had been lost after this. I took the walkietalkie
and tried to call edmin over and over, and even Tauniu tried his hand, but
the cliffs were evidently just too high and massive for our equipment to
penetrate, though we could hear other voices from farther away—evidently
powerful transmitters on other islands; but still too far away for us to
catch any more than a word here and there. Tauniu and I also chatted,
perhaps before the children came. We sat and lay on the mat side by side in
the island way, very relaxed, and with conversation coming easily. Maui stayed
with us until the meal was served. It was hot from the umu, or earth oven.
I did not ask if Tesimo had build a new umu, or if there were old umus in
places like that which people were wont to use from time to time in their
travels. There were delicate and delicious flavours. Most impressive was
the vegetable packet. It consisted of kokona and potu leaves stacked
together on a banana leaf wrapper. somehow these leaves were saturated
with coconut milk, wrapped in the banana leaves, and baked in the earth oven
to a lovely perfection which filled my nostrils with a sueet savour when
my plate was placed into my hand. Speaking of savors, I forgot to mention
the children and their lala gi, or nggemunggi nuts which they came cheuing
around me. These they had also baked in the earth oven, but somehow some
were hard—terribly hard—while others were softer. Evidently they had been cooked in two ways. these strange nuts--I still have no idea what they really
_QI B-'-cgme _f' r c    ' -          "',   '"-'•'. ; .
the island,
''.
What is extraordinary
about them is their odor. I begged some from the children to taste, and they
gave me samples of both the hard and the moist. You know how I eat everything;
it was hard, however, for me to manage to get these things doun. The only way
I could describe the flavour with any degree of accuracy would be, "like
the smell of bilge scum on the Metikei," or, "like horse manure." I marvelled
that these nuts had become a staple in the native diet, though they say they
only bear once every six years or so. Considering the rough terrain, however,
and the great isolation of this island from the rest of the world, plus
the frequent outbreaks of tribal warfare that plagued their past, I can
see that att one time or another in their history these people may have
been forced to try these strange nuts for food just to survive. Then, as it
is with taste, they developed a liking for the flavour of this strange food
that they had had to eat because of necessity. The reaping of the nggemungi
nut harvest is evidently a time of rejoicing for these people, who speak
poetically of climbing high in the foliage and looking out over the branches
all beautifully laden with fruit, and breaking forth into song. After
tasting these nuts I realized the foul odour I  had detected since our
arrival on Tauniu's breath had not been due to any obnoxious disease, but
merely to his fondness for nggemunggi nuts, which wonderfully happened to
be in season this year so that he could eat his fill of them after living 7
months away from his island doing wood carving at Honiara. The other
foods that were served were perhaps sueet potatoes and yams, and, with them
one of the fish that now abound in the lake. They were introduced there from
either Africa or south America in the 1950s or 50s, and are better tasting
than most fresh water or lake fish I have tasted. The lake is in the basin
formed by what used to be the atoll that is this island, and their are no
streams flowing out of the lake, so the water is brackish. These fish that
have been introduced are both good and bad--good because they provide a
tremendous and ready source of protein for the people, and bad because vast
numbers of these fish often die off, making the waters stink, as they did
at one place or more on the path from Tenggano to where we had our lunch.

Maui left us after lunch and a little prodding from me. I said very gently that
he should hurry back to help watch the boat - calling me fron time to time to
try to keep contact over the walkie talkie, as he had the little one with
him. Our party cleaned the dishes and packed up, and we all got into
Tauniu's great canoe, which was built on the western Solomons plan, with no
outriggers, and powered by an 8 horsepouer Japanese outboard that seemed to
push it along at a good eight knots or so,—faster than the Metikei by a
long shot, I am sure. Beside me sat little Uarnaris, Tauniu's daughter. I
didn't try to help with any of the paddling or maneuvering out before they
started the engine, since I was intent on keeping in contact with Maui over
the walkie talkie, but, alas, the interference of the engine was too much,
and I lost him. We shot through the water like a torpedo, careening from
side to side with spray flying and waves coming in over the gunnels from time
to time. Little Uanaris, sitting beside me, got soaked, but I managed to
escape with only minor splashings, and too keep my precious taperecorder
and walkie talkie out of reach of the water. we were evidently traveling in
an eastward direction, and reached Hutuna village perhaps 30 minutes or an
hour from when we started. It was toward mid or late aftErnoon, and the
people gathered round to see us. I stepped out of the canoe all the while try-
ing to reach Maui on the walkie talkie, but I was never able to reach him
again. The people were all gathered around me, and laughed when I called
poor Maui "Mautikitiki,"in my vain attempts to raise him. I tried to reach the
boat many times and many ways with the walkietalkie while in Hutuna, but was
never able to get through once, and think that even had my signals carried

feBlWteereatbSebQafe aSSate'^By^eH^n 0§tan£VgdbB9ci<itaSQl:l;9Theia6^o?•,l^icoMttB

5
bilge pump makes a horrifying racket over electronic equipment whenever it
comes on—which is not infrequently since we have a leak that I have not
yet found someplace in the engine room—and anyone the least bit impatient will just turn it off and forget about it.

After waiting outside for some time to give the people a chance to look me
over and meet me and Tauniu and Tesimo a chance to make ready their house,
I was led round to the steps, up and through the low door onto the rattan
floor and back through different doors into what would be my bedroom. It
was a lovely room, with a comfortable single bed, a table, a chair,
board shutters mounted on steel frames so that they could open
and close, which opened out to a lovely breeze and a direct view of the lake,
which came in almost under the house itself. There was the gentle murmer of
wavelets sloshing around and over mossy rocks awash in the water. The house,
built on poles about four feet from the ground, was very clean and airy,
and had a water tank beside it that was filled from the run off of the tin
roof.

           .... ,,  h.u^i:; irc'LuL;;.-nn
ny bedroom. The other, half

~     '                                                                                     -'    •'           ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^u^M^^we,   • •^

was covered with pandannus thatch, from which material
^KW^^H^tl^^^ffS
also
made. This was new to me, both as roofing as well as mall material, and so
were the rattan rods lashed side by side for the flooring. I thought that
this must be the best native roofing material that I had ever encountered,
however, and it was beautifully even and strong. I was astonished at the
amount of work that must have gone into that part of the structure, since
the area of the house was not small. Just the rattan would have been hard
enough to find and prepare in the thorney thickets of the forest, but to top
this off I found by some exploratory feeling with my fingers that the joists
were only about one foot or less apart. Though these were made of round
bush poles, it must have been hard to find so many straight ones as that.
My admiration and respect kept growing for Tauniu. As you can imagine, and
dust or dirt on the floor sifts right through the cracks, leaving the rattan
clean and smoothed, polished by many bare feet. There was no table for eating
but again we sat round on bagu mats and the food was laid out on the floor.
The food was all from the umu during my stay there, and this seemed to be
their normal may of cooking. Tauniu made the meal more interesting by
serving me a glass of lemonade made from his limes after some of the meals.
I was never once given plain water to drink as far as I can remember,
because there was always a supply of fresh drinking coconuts, for the
drinking of which these people had no fear, even in the early morning,
a thing that would be unthinkable in Indonesia. how wonderful to find people
that have not been influenced by Aristotle's four humours or four elements
theory, which has been spread so far and wide in the east by the Arabs and
Moslems. I met the pastor, Rev. Hatinggeva (singing in the top of the
nggemunggi tree, it means), but he was on his way to Tenggano. where he
would hold the Sabbath services next day. After eating with my hands) that
evening they were about to give me water to wash my hands, but I wanted to
take  a bath anyway, so Tauniu led me down to the lake outside, and I went
in for a bath, clutching a bar of sweet smelling soap in the darkness
;:i,nvi;;i-;c '.")',' T--'r;;.u.
I rnit my way arro
/^/jK'^/^/////
gingerly among the mossy rocks to deeper water, not without some loathing; but it wasn't
really too bad. Nowhere on any beach had I smelled the smell of human
excrement, and Tauniu later told me that the lake was reserved for washing
and bathing, and the other needs are taken care of in the bush. I stepped
up out of the water and took the towel which Tauniu was holding for me,
stripped,
/^^^^/^//^^rijt'suranQ
my pants as dry as I could, and dried off,
wearing the towel back to the house as Tauniu suggested. I slept well that
night, tired but well. I had escaped from the trail with only minor injury
a cut on my right shin that the health
extension officer had put a piece of plaster on while I was at Tenggano.

next day was the Sabbath, a day of worship and cold food. In the morning,
Tauniu had come in and sat on
my bed, and talked with me about spiritual
things, and asked me to tell him more about rebirth, since, he said,
many people did not understanding this thing clearly. I did my best. My
bedroom, incidentally, had no closing door, and children and adults came
and went into it as they pleased, just like in the villages of the Moluccas,
though somehow not in so depressing a manner. On our way to the church I
could hear the children off to my right someplace singing, and the whole
atmosphere of the place reminded me of Liang so nostalgically that it
nearly brought tears to my eyes. It was communion Sabbath, which only
happens once every three or four months, I believe, and,
miracle of miracles, I was allowed to take part. First was footwashing. Tauniu
was my partner. He brought a basin and a towel or rag or something, washed
my feet one by one, drying then with the touel, then went back someplace for
a fresh basin of water, and I did the same to his. This part of the
service was much like our own, with inalulL-Suai. prayer-fe over which

As usual, I was moved to tears; but once again I was disapointed with a
feeling that the service had had little effect upon anyone else,—a thing
that has puzzled me about communion services in Papua New Guinea as well.
how I wished the people could have really felt what they weree doing from
the heart, and allowed the Holy Spirit to have full sway. how beautiful
it might have been. I think the last footwashing service I was in before
that was when Bapa Temi washed the feet of the people in my church at Liang,
with the love of God and the pouer of the Holy Spirit flouing from him like
a river. In the afternoon I went to another service, as I had the afternoon
before, but this tine with some
/^//jrf/^/
Tauniu leaving me in the church and
excusing himself because he had other business. It was talks by different
people, some of them wonen, and singing—the ceremony of closing the Sabbath.
The school teacher came and sat beside me after the service and we talked.
He was a man from the western Solomons married to a belona girl. Belona is
also Polynesan, the people are relatives of the Rennellese, have the

•-" 3 lan^.;     !'''   ' ••'•" 'ir r-ronccs; -'•""' liv; on isl^n^'s in sight of onn
ano^lfittllk- It ua;. '
...who had spoken in the Sunday school
^IHMNllllllMRilt h

school) class of the morning, and done quite well for himself--probably the
best I had heard in these islands, using Solomon Islands Pidgin, most of
which I could understand quite well. The services were all in either
Polynesian or Pidgin, with scripture readings in King James English, and
singing in King James and standard English, though the children sang
one chorus at least in Polynesian, translated by the deceased f^f firtefc
n3.iuG missionary, Moa, who was the man who went to Belona and
hacked the two stone images their ancestor Kaitu'u had brought
in his canoe from some island on his way here from Uvea-Henua-Tai, I
believe they said it was, meaning "Sea Island." The church was also built
up off the ground, had rattan floors and pandannus malls. On Saturday
afternoon I asked the children and young people if there was any hill
nearby that I could climb to try to reach Maui with the walkietalkie, and
was amazed when they led me up a very steep rock that seemed to be shaped
like a cona and rose very high right in back of Tauniu's house. Nothing
from Maui, though. Hutuna has a population, Tauniu says, evidently did,
rather, in a recent sensus, of 183 souls, large and small (I hope I said
Hutuna, because that is the village I meant, Tauniu's village). A little
smaller than Liang, in Buru, which I used to think was very small. Rennell
has a very scanty population, though the people do not seam to be dying
off, as has been the case with the Polynesians coming into contact with the
outside world in the past. On Saturday afternoon I was visited by a bright
young nan of the village named John, who had been on board the Metikei at
Tuhungganggo (Tuhugago), and he had the theory that there were formerly
many more people on Rennell, but that they had been killed off in the tribal
wars of the past, which could well be true. I subsequently questioned Tauniu
on the subject, however, and he did not share this belief at all, but thought
there had never been many people on Rennell, simply because there was not
enough arable land to support a larger population. This latter explanation
r.iirin't seem far wrong to me from any of the island that I had walked upon,
There are reports, however, of an outbreak of dysentery or some similar
disease that wiped out sixty people in the lake area not to many years ago.
This is a huge chunk of the population, since john told me that even now
the population of the lake area numbers only in the four hundreds, if I
recall correctly. The people of the lake have one great benefit, however,
and this is the sheer isolation of their homeland. For one to reach them it
is necessary to either fly to Tigoa, from which one has to walk about five
days through the bush to reach the lake, I an told, or come across the
vast expanse of sea separating Rennell and Belona from the rest of the Solomons,
then scale the steel walls of cliff from the shore at Tuhugago and walk the
several kilometers in to the lake over the rocky path. The only other
alternative seems to be by seaplane landing on the lake, or perhaps by
helicopter, which would probably have to be launched from a ship since
Rennell is so far from other islands that most helicopters probably couldn't
make it out and back on one supply of fuel. Once again, think of Tauniu
managing to get a water tank in and a tin roof on that house, and the clinic
at Tenggano even had a cement floor! Unfortunately in many respects, the
people are energetically occupied in clearing a runway in the bush near
Tenggano, a d       '; to have it ready for the First aircraft lap
next year. No 0.1 . i.udlly know is, I fear, just what will happen to the lake
and her people who have lived there so long
;,
after that Speaking of how
long the people have been here, they trace their lineage back 23 to 24
generations to the ancestor, Kaitu'u, who came with others in a large
double canoe (nggua-nggua, their version of rua-rua) from Uvea, Kaitu'u and

l^i^^N&%^^

'•i, T   .-/•^ ; -' ^ -'^-' i-iT-i 7

Hiti may have been the ancient Polynesian word for "Melanesian," since it
seems to be the same word as Fiji (even the Rennell people slurr their
Ts and make them sound almost like Cs in many cases, and the Rennell H
sound is the Samoan f sound) or Viti (Viti Levu, etc.). Fiji is on the
border with Polynesia, and this could be how it got its name, since part
of the Fijian ancestry is Polynesian, and there were contacts with Polynesia
by canoe until the arrival of the white man. The Anggiki or Hakahua = nobility
of the island trace their descent to Kaitu'u, who was prompted to sail
in search of Belona by a dream his mother had, in which she sau Belona floating like a button on the sea. Kaitu'u was a priest-chief, but his guide
was a prophet whose name I cannot recall, who served the God (evidently
a far-removed ancestor of the distant past) known as Te-Hu'ai-Nggabenga.
This prophet never spoke directly to Te-Hu'ai-nggabenga, but through another
lesser god who was medium. This prophet told Kaitu'u what to name the islands,
and informed him when the gods went ashore to stay at Belona, so that Kaitu'u
could
sl.ao ^r-1-*-' -
tin-.rc;.
The amount of information these people can give on
al,jfej,his is .      -^ ..-. .-., -i. . -.. , -.-...:..... ,-
havs a society
J^^^^aa. ,. -.
much more highly organized than any I have ever encountered before, and, most
wonderful of all, they have only recently come into contact with the outside
world, so that men like Tauniu know about what went on before, and can
describe everything in great detail, including the coming to power and
duties of three ranks of priests, the prophets and the chiefs. So much
for now about the people. On Saturday night I went outside and sat down on
the grass near the lake with the children, whom I had been teaching to sing
"Praise the name of Jesus, singing halelujah,"a chorus from PNG, which they
were beginning to catch onto. They sang enthusiastically awhile, then
the singing dropped off, and some of them started singing the romantic
songs of their island, but I could feel the Holy ypirit there, and the Holy
Spirit didn't want them to sing those songs, and they could feel it too, and
kept saying, no, don't sing those worldly songs, and I heard one of them
suggest a story, but another seamed to say no. finally, when I felt the time
was right, I suggested bat I tell them a story about Adam. They agreed, and
I began unfolding the teaching of spiritual life and death, which they had
evidently never heard before. They were bright, and several of them readily
caught on to what I was saying, and began asking questions. My answers
brought discussions in their language, and I could sense one or two old
people beginning to poke their noses about us because they had heard the
singing stop and were suspicious, I thought. After some little discussion
they said that the doctrine of their church held that rebirth was water
baptism. I said that I didn't think so, that water baptism was something
done on the outside, but that rebirth was something done in the spirit,
inside. Once or twice I heard one say "ma'onggi," (their form of maori) which
means, "True." There were questions from a bright boy on my right who
became interested, but I was called to dinner, and sadly had to leave them,
and it was too late to go back when I was finished, and I could seem to
sense some unease about Tauniu, as if he didn't want me to go back, and held
me in discussion a little while after the meal so that I would be occupied.
:, "'..i'-^lc
while after the meal so that I would be occupied.
The meal was hot this time, since they had closed the Sabbath and could cook.
There didn't seem to be as many girls at Hutuna as at Tenggano, but there
were some, and, as there custom is, they came and stood around Tauniu's house
and talked with me on Sunday afternoon. They seemed a bit tamer than the
girls of Tenggano, however, and perhaps a bit younger. I think some of the
people or girls and children of Hutuna may be genuinely born again, or at
least had some personal experience with Christ. Like the young boy who kept
asking me Questions on Saturday night (I can't help getting it
mixed up with Sunday), when I described how the Holy Spirit came to us and
made us weep I asked him if naybe this had ever happened to him, and he said
that it had. Next morning (real Sunday) After breakfast Tauniu went to ready
the canoe. He called me too early, so I stood for some time near the canoe
at the water's edge, sometimes talking to others there. An old nan on my
left once or tuice in that strange way that old men do, and I wondered
about his mind. Finally orders came for us to embark. I didn't know who was
going and who staying, but when I asked, I found that Tesino was aboard
directly in front of me, and I had not made the mistake of leaving the house
without thanking my hostess. We all said goodbye and shoved off, my helping
with the paddle this time, probably unnecessarily, and were soon on our
way, gliding through the water on our way to Tenggano. The wind was strong,
and I imagined that I even felt swells come up under our canoe and lift us,
but don't know if this is possible on a body of water that cize. fortunately
for us, we were moving with it this tine, so we didn't get as wet as we
would have had we been bucking it. Disembarking at Tenggano I realized
that the wind was just too faisty to leave the Metikei any longer, and my sense of duty made me determine to return to Tuhungganggo. I could just feel
in the air that feeling which I have when there is a storm. It had rained
hard on the lake the night before, the first real rain in several days.
Tauniu readily agreed that I should return, and set off to lead the way,
his wife and children remaining behind to wait for him at Tenggano. I was
very sorry about it all, because we had planned to go far up the lake to
tinggoa (not the Tinggoa near the airfield) where Tauniu 300' Tesimo would
probably leave me until they returned from their fields, another fiSft
hour's trek into the bush from tinggoa. I stopped to relieve myself near
the trail after we got into the big bush—the first time for me in two or
three days—and I thought this made me feel a little more comfortable inside.
We stopped again at Onggoho'ou, where I tried unsuccessfully to call the boat.
we sat there for a few rn-rp '•"nmBnts while I listened to the forest, and I
commented to Tauniu that xx must be the garden of eden, it was such a
beautiful place,
f rn-i be r-i-oi.,^
at the top of the cliffs we hailed the men on
+-'-!-• •-•'•'--'.. r- • •• . ^,,n,n ni.ii; ni-i'-1
looked up at us, but try
      "•?y? ^e

CO'.!.-            ,                                                        •,i:'i: , I;.:.;-,',     • •   '.     • *-         ....^l^fcP

obvia ':'••:>, was noul OTT. Taulu wi.       ..-.._n
to promise
.:              ^B^^yi':
;!,; uorjn, so that he could leav      •id hurry back to Tenggano, but
pn the
^nd, ujhen we yore':
almost hoarse with shouting, Tauniu led me slowly down
the hundreds of feet to the beach. He said many people had clipped to their
deaths at that place, but I didn't know if
what he was talking
about, as it was ^/ in response to a question from me, and I have learned,
after years of experience, not to put much stock in what a primitive
person says unless it comes out spontaneously, and not as an answer to a
question, when he will tend to follow the question rather than the truth.
Returning to
''
ship with a boy named George, who somehow was aboard
with Edwin and Maui, and who succeeded in jamming the dinghy onto the
sharp coral of the reef a couple of times, I paid Edwin his three dollars,
and let him go to join his father, keeping Maui only to care for me on the
boat. Tauniu returned on Tuesday, but only with yams for food,—probably
the least desirable of all the native tubers to my tongue. That evening
we arrived at Kagaba Bay, where we have been ever since except for a
trip to Labagu on Wednesday morning, where we dropped off pastor Hatinggeva
so that he could walk to the airfield--two day's journey away. With him I sent
five letters, including one to you, dear Mother, which I hope you have
received in good order. Pastor Hatinggeua had accompanied Tauniu down from
the lake. I later learned that Tesimo had also accompanied him as far as
the ridge above the cliffs to help carry the yams, but that Hatinggeva had
helped him carry her load down the cliffs to the beach. Hatinggeva turned out
to be very knowledgeable about the oral history, as well as worship, as the
arrival of the white man on Belona was even later than on Rennell, and tifa
is where he comes from. I kept him up telling stories and recording
information on tape. The sea was rough between Tuhugago and here, but this
harbor is a little better, though not much, and the boat is rocking
violently at anchore even as I write this, late at night on the fifth of
July. The wind has been very strong here, and last night there was a
violent storm, with high winds and great thunderings, and unbelievable rain.
fortunately it is all from the east, and I am in the lee of the land, so
that I only get suells that come into the bay around the land. Even so,
one smaller anchore rope was broken sometime evidently last night or this
morning. I find I have learned about all the vocabulary I can learn without
too much difficulty from Tauniu, so I have him on explaining chants and
recording all he knows about the past of Rennell in his own language. unfortunately I am plagued with rain sounds and rocking noises on this boat,
and do not have good quality tapes, but I think I am getting valuable
recordings despite these drawbacks. I had run out of money at Honiara,
so was not able to buy new tapes, so am erasing old ones and using them for
this information, which I know is very valuable, and will only get more
valuable with time. I wiU rv to find a suitable young nan from      to go
with me back to Honiara and   New Guinea, help with the ship, and help
me build my vocabulary to thE point where I can understand the language
on the tapes I am making here. You
 ,   .1. young
know English, but
they do not know the old things, and cannot express themselves so beautifully
as their elders in their own language. The thought
^•1,1,, ... ;::L
that if
t'    b?es are valuable to ;;-.;-...
they will be valuable to other student
x
and that amount of money mould cover ,
entire operations here at Rennel a;,*
still let me co

a little ahead. & you know, I have been praying that the
Lord would provide me with a way to make my own living. It came to me that
something like this would be exactly what I could handle, since I have so
much experience in it from Moluccan days, and I am interested in going to
exactly the places which are interesting to science—-the most isolated
oF the islands of the Pacific, where the real gospel has never once been heard.
Of course, everywhere I try to reach people with the message of the gospel,
I mill naturally want to study their mays, history, and particular kind of
Polynesian language in order to broaden my experience and knowledge, and
enable ne to reach them more effectively as well as the next group later on,
just as I am hoping to apply experience here later in the nortlock Islands.
The thing that has bothered me here, however, is the scarcity of people
with whom I come into contact. Perhaps, however, this situation is peculiar
to Rennell and Belona, where there are no good harbours or dwellingplaces
near the shore. I had something wonderful started here a few days ago.
At';      .1.1 a F ^^mnc ;;,on
came to study the bible upon my invitation.
^HTCy ......^ inter1?BBBB|
and came back every one the follouing ffliyi.L. Ifelt
sure that I would easily be able to lead them on to the things of the
Holy Spirit if they would just keep coming, and there was a wonderful
atmosphere in the second service, after which I prayed at the close with them
to commit their lives to Christ. This was not the end, however, as the
brightest among them, a lad named Kamuel, kept questioning me and questioning
me, and got me involved in a long expose on the mechanics of mercy and
judgment, responsibility and the pouer of the Holy spirit. Then they wanted
me to sing, and I had the annointing of God upon me, and bare as a
tremendous spirit, they trying to learn "follow, I mill follow Thee my Lord,"and
"There is a river,"which I had written doun for them on a sheet of paper
the night before. The sad thing was that a feast was planned at natangi, for
which they had to leave the next day. That is exactly the kind of thing of
the devil that will kill the work of the Holy Ghost, I am afraid, and so
don't know what to expect in the future, since I have such a limited time here.
I am now trying to get mail through from Honiara so that I will have money to
buy diesel fuel. Then the problem is to get the fuel itself, whether from
l^iY^
"Mitsubishi,"the
-'apanr-
company here prospecting for phosphates,
or from one of the government boats, I don't know. I am just living by

faith,
like I always do. This time round has been hard for me, however, as
the greedy Solomon Islands government lifted $200.75 Australian out of my
pocket so that I had to leave
' 1-1" •"'' -' "" '•;i-i-.''"^
provisions
''""' '':'-thuut
enough fuel to return.
9 have       .;- .   ..:.   'iet near     ---.
tance level,
and both Maui and Tauniu have been sick, but I have managed to skimp through
with no serious difficulties. Fortunately, fish is abundant, and when
Tauniu and Maui are able and have a chance they fish, and we have plenty of
fish for a day or too. This diet gets pretty old after auhile, however.
Also, fortunately I have a tin of
Q."0^'-" -'ns
which I bought with flitch in
nind (it is th'      of six), union .     ,,
in my bedroom. when I get hungry,
I take a spoonfull of this,
:'n':.1
it helps.
Bso.,     '       have had enough
••nilk, coffee, and sugar for a cup of coffee
f;:L-., :._.,,„. , .„ laima.
In these
are old provisions from Madang. Unfortunately, Ss. Ross" protein pouder
wasn't tinned in tins, but cardboard, and so
 ^     .
all has gone bad.
The problem is that I don't need protein as much as starch, and a change
from yams, yams
    ;.
I shouldn't have said near subsistance diet, though,
since we have more than that, I think. B have been a little hungry, however.
The weather is still too stormy to return to Tuhugago, and we don't know when
it will
;!V,-!
clear up. If I could get money through, I might be able to
buy some food here, however, since I hear that the Japanese company's store
sometimes sells rice, etc. I only thank God for Tauniu, who has been so
faithful that I know God must have provided him for ne, that's all. Otherwise I
don't know how I would have managed. My main worry now is getting Charlotte
back to Rabaul before she's seven months along, the prospects for which now
look bleak indeed, and I don't know when I will ever see her again, nor how
things will go if the baby is born in Indonesia (it is due about the tenth
of Oct., I think). xtill, the hard rain has brought some good. The decks are
clean, and the forward tank is full, as well as our drinking water containers.
water is a problem on this bleak coast, where I was drinking brackish water
for a time. nust close for now. This with my love, and continuing prayers,
Your son, Joe.

End letter.

17 May 1980

Dear Jim,

As usual, your letter came like a refreshing breeze.  It hardly seemed possible that the country it came from could still be cold and rainy this time of year, but we tend to forget how it is in the north, living in sunny California.  The weather here has been beautiful much of the time, and were it not for the smog, it would be approaching marvelous.

Your observations about the -t ending in adjectives may be valid.  From my limited experience with the language, I am still unable to tell you yes or no.  I could find out, I suppose, were I to devote sufficient time listening to the voluminous taped materials I keep.  I do feel that you are on the right track, though; and if not right, then getting close.

It has been so long since I have had anything to do with language or syntax except of course for FORTRAN, COBOL, VASIC, etc.--that I feel really out of touch.  After writing you last time, I thought I said "PERSONAL" pronoun endings instead of just pronoun endings, and I thought what an idiot you must think I am sometimes.  Either that, or you must think I am trying to say something I am not.  Anyhow, I try.

In understanding Buru language, I am really more concerned with that class of word whihc I have designated "perfect participle," but which do not really seem to fit that classification.  What classification do words like the following fit into: egrohok, egnalik, ekfakak, etc.  If you were me, I suppose you would be able to recognize their classification immediately; but with my limited understanding of the language, I cannot.

Believe it or not, your letter arrived just as I was working out a new design for a Moluccan-style outrigger canoe.  I am now finished with the preliminary work, and have full-sized patterns all printed up for nine sections of the hull.  I used the computer to work out the lines, based on measurements Ronny and I took from my beloved Tangiia, in which I made so many marvelous cruises along the coasts of Buru, Ceram, and Lease.  It is five meters long, and forty centimeters maximum width.  The lines that run lengthwise along the hull are parabolic, while the sections have elliptical curves.  I think it will really be a beauty, if I ever get it built. Right now, however, I haven't found the help or the money I need to finish it.  Nobody around here is interested in outrigger canoes, of course, and I have to be a little careful not to talk too much about what I am doing, since the natives think I am a little strange already.  What could they ever know about the pleasures of paddling one's own outrigger canoe?  Anyhow, someday I hope to cut plywood molds from the computer-printed patterns.  These will then be stood upside-down on the floor, and fastened to long strips of wood called "ribbands," or battens.  These ribbands will then be covered with paper, which will be covered with chicken wire, which will be plastered.  The plaster will be finished to the exact contours of the inside of my canoe.  On this will then go some parting agent, and, finally, the fiber-glass of the actual canoe hull.

As you can possibly tell, business has been going slow lately, and so I am blessed with time to think of things like outrigger canoes--as well as other dreams.  Of course,  the old longing for the islands gets so strong it is almost painful sometimes, so I can't afford to think about it too much.  Just have to keep on being patient, working hard, and hoping for some better break down the line.

It is very hard to get business right now, especially for me, since my people are worried about entrusting such important things as their computer programming work to a blind person.  Of course, I am keeping my business open, but i am also looking for work outside--at least until things start moving.  So I have been busy working on a resume, which never seems to get any better the more I work on it, and my secretary has been busy filling out employment applications.

Well, so much for this time.  I'll keep thing about those -t endings, and let you know if I turn up anything in the light of what you have said.  Hope everything is turning out okay concerning your dissertation, and hope you will be able to realize your tentative plans about Indonesia and Malaysia later this year.

Please write.

Yours truly,
Joe.

(The above letter transcribed in Christine's room with the assistance of old Leon on August 1, 2005).