|
To many people the life of a missionary must seem rather a pleasant one. After all they are usually stationed in
countries with warm climates, luscious fruit and fragrant flowers. Their days are spent acting as pastor, doctor and
teacher to a grateful populace who have not had the benefits (?) of much of the technology that the modern world
has to offer.
Sound idyllic? Think again. Collin and Janet Harrington who now live in Heathcote Valley, previously spent a lot of their time overseas as
missionaries. Much of it in warm climates with luscious fruit and fragrant flowers, but idyllic? I don't think so.
Here, Collin tells his own story of just another day in the jungle.
I had been working in Sumatra, Indonesia, for almost two years when I received word that Janet, to whom I was
engaged and had not seen for over four years, had been granted her visa and would arrive in Palembang, the
provincial capital. Astonishingly, after all the years of waiting, we almost have no reunion. I have to go down from Curup to coastal
Bengkulu in order to get a travel permit.
This is because rebels opposed to Sukarno and to the central government,
are making their presence felt in the countryside. As a foreigner I must have permission to travel outside the area.
This means that I must travel 80 km west, to Bengkulu. Then I must double back that distance to Curup before
starting the 500 km journey across to Palembang.
As I drive down to Bengkulu, over the mountain range, I stop to
talk with a Dutch friend, who is currently overseeing the building of a bridge. He asks me if I will take some of his
workmen who are just finishing their work shift, to their village a little further down the road. Six men clamber
aboard. Passing through a village some kilometres further on, I am waved down by a guy who also wants a lift, but,
because the car is full, I drive past him.
Almost immediately some of the men in the car indicate that they want me
to stop as we are now in their village. I have no sooner stopped, letting them out, than the man who had tried to
wave me down, appears at the car window - pistol in hand. His eyes are blazing with anger. He opens the car door
and demands to know, “Why didn’t you stop for me?” I pull the door shut and snib the lock, but, of course, as
always in the tropics the window is open. He reaches through the open window, puts the pistol to my head and
states angrily, “Because you’re an ‘orang Belanda’ (Dutchman) I am going to shoot you.”
I rather foolishly say,
“I’ll report you to the military police when I get to Bengkulu.” Of course, it is an empty threat - for, if he pulls the
trigger, I will be going nowhere. The others in the car wisely keep silent - the best thing to do when someone is
brandishing a gun. All this happens very quickly and I feel anger rather than fear of him. After a few more words
he, inexplicably, drops the pistol to his side and walks away. Who can imagine the shock to Janet if, instead of my meeting her at the dock, she had found that she had reached
Sumatra in time for my funeral!
I don’t hang around long asking questions about the guy. I report him to the military police in Bengkulu and they
tell me not to return over the road that day. There is no way that ‘hell or high water’ is going to stand between me
and meeting Janet. I tell them I have to go back today, so, after granting my permit to travel, the Military Police
insist that I have an escort with me. A soldier, rifle at the ready, sits on the seat behind me, ready for any exigency.
The uneventful trip back was an anti-climax. I didn’t realize the full extent of how close I had come to death that day, until a year later when we attended a
function for the surrender of the aforesaid rebels. In true Asian style it was not called ‘surrender’ but was rather, a
ceremony in which the rebels joined the army! In that way no one lost face.
At a function in the evening I see the
guy who had threatened to kill me. The second-in-command of the rebels no less! I had heard many stories about
this man and how he would kill people in cold blood. However until then, I had no idea that he was the same
person who had stopped me on the road! I had no personal contact with him at that function. Many a time I have
given thanks to God for the deliverance of that day.
Janet has her own tale of terror to tell. One day while Colin was on business away from home and Janet had stayed
there with the children, she glanced out of the window to see an army truck drive into their circular driveway and
head slowly towards the house. Standing in the back of the truck were about 30 uniformed soldiers with guns and
bayonets at the ready.
Janet's heart went cold as she desperately tried to think where the children might be playing
and how she could reach them quickly.
Fortunately, before anything worse could happen, one of the drivers waved at her with a smile and called out
“Good morning, lady.” He then finished circling the drive and took his truck and armed men away to terrify
someone else while Janet slowly recovered her composure.
I've always liked Colin and Janet because they are kind, friendly people but I now regard them also with a great
deal of awe and admiration.
|
