Chapter Two, Section I
In the early days, travelling to and from mission fields was a very pleasant experience - a lovely cruise. This was especially appreciated on the return trips when one could relax after a hard term in a cruel tropical environment, put on a little weight and acquire a more pleasant disposition. Travelling these days is not so relaxing in the cramped cabins of 747 jets, the speed of which does not permit one to adjust comfortably from one environment, climate and culture to another.
Our first outward trip was on P.& O.'s "Himalaya", a beautiful ship of 28,000 tons, and this was its second voyage -almost a brand-new liner. During our missionary career and before air travel became popular; we had the delightful experiences of sailing also on the "Orcades", " Arcadia", "Strathnaver", "Strathmore", "Galileo" and the mighty "Queen Mary". The trip across the Atlantic in the latter was so rough and I was so sick, that I never was able to check on just how many rivets kept the old craft together.
Our first voyage to Bombay was a real pleasure; well, until we reached the tropics when baby Paul became troubled with prickly heat. The beginning of the trip was the tonic we needed to help us over the sorrow of parting with our families. Keith and I, together with our relatives, knew that it would be a considerable time before we would meet again. We were not going to a regular type of mission field with all the basic facilities. For almost half a year, during the monsoon season, we would be completely cut off from all proper medical care.
Some folk thought we were crazy, if not cruel, to take a seven-month-old baby to such a hostile environment. Embarking on such a foolhardy venture is no easy matter. We were met with opposition, even from relatives. Keith's mother, in particular, found it difficult to accept the fact that we were taking her grandchildren to such a primitive place.
"You give me grandchildren," she said, "and then you take them from me. They will die out there." Unfortunately, in spite of all I did to preserve a close relationship, she built up a barrier. It would have been so easy for me to have avoided her and become resentful, but I was determined that eventually, love would overcome the estrangement, and it did in a most beautiful way.
At Melbourne, many friends had boarded the ship to bid us good-bye. After saying my farewells on deck, I went to the cabin to settle the children. Just then, the first whistle blew, warning visitors to disembark and Keith searched for his mother to give her a last-minute hug and kiss. When he could not find her on deck, he raced down to the cabin to see if I had seen her and there she was, with her arms around me - crying. From then on, her letters to us ended, as they never had before, with the words, "God bless you, my dears."
A few weeks before we left Australia, Alan Thomas, a chemist and brother of one of Keith's College friends, Don, presented us with a set of costly dental extracting instruments. The kit contained just about every type of forceps imaginable, along with other implements of torture, a variety of hypodermic syringes and an assortment of anaesthetics. When Keith expressed doubts about his ability to pull out teeth, Alan simply remarked, "Oh, every missionary has to pull out teeth; my father used to pull out teeth and God will teach you how to pull out teeth!" And that was that! Little did we realize at the time what dynamic repercussions would follow such a crazy statement. God sure does work in mysterious ways!
We packed all this gear in our cabin baggage, wondering if it would ever be used. After all, we had received no dental training whatsoever. On our first day at sea, we were allocated to tables in the dining room and, seated opposite us, were two very nice young men. During our first meal together, Keith asked them, "Where are you going to?" "We are booked right through to London," came the reply, "to take further university studies - some post-graduate work." When he asked them the nature of their work, we were stunned to learn that they were dentists! This was an opportunity not to be missed. We told them of all the dental equipment we had in the cabin, with not a clue as to how to use it. We thought that, perhaps, they could put it to some useful purpose.
"Thanks all the same, but actually, we have all the equipment we need. Never mind," they said, "no problems; bring a pencil and paper to the meal table tomorrow and we’ll teach you how to extract teeth!" And so it was that the Mission's Dental Department had its beginnings ! It would be impossible for Keith to count the number of teeth he pulled out during the twenty-five years that were to follow. For the remaining twelve days at sea, Keith was taught how to administer the various "block injections", how to plug a haemorrhage and, of course, how to extract - without breaking a jaw!
The daily lectures were very interesting and well illustrated with sketches, including one of a barrel. "Just imagine yourself bent over a barrel," we were told. "Now imagine that there is a tooth under the barrel and then you'll remember the trajectory. Never try to pull a tooth out straight; it just won't come. And don't forget to twist, rock and wobble it. Above all, get your mind pulling, then it's easy!"
Our dentist friends kindly arranged for us to visit the ship's hospital where charts were made available to show us the position of various teeth, along with their related nerve supplies. Keith must have learned something from these lectures, for three of the many teeth he later pulled were from the head of his own wife. At the time of writing, Suresh & Sarson Khamal still maintain a very successful dental work in Surgapam, based on the skills Keith taught them over thirty years previously, skills which were passed on by our two professional friends who cared enough to share their knowledge with us.
Between studying dentistry and replying to the many friends who had farewelled us at Melbourne, Adelaide and Fremantle ports, we tried to bring comfort to baby Paul. In those days, the ships were not air-conditioned and, as we entered the tropics, his whole body became covered with the most terrible, irritating rash of prickly heat. There were times in India when it took Paul a full six weeks to recover. Eventually, after several years of experimenting, we found that very large doses of Ascorbic Acid (Vitamin C), not only helped to speed up the healing process but, more importantly, helped prevent the rash. When our screaming baby finally quieted down, we reflected on our Calling and what lay ahead of us.
There were times when we felt really frightened, for we were not going to a regular sort of mission station in or near a well-established town with all the necessary basic facilities. We were going to a place where there was NOTHING - no electricity, gas, running water or sewerage systems, no cultured environment such as we enjoy in the "Free World", no newspapers, phone communications or public transport which we take for granted in the twentieth century, no shops such as we know in the West, no proper medical and educational facilities, no responsible police force upon which to call in times of danger. It was to be seven years before we were to have a radio of our own.
Going to a place where there were neither airplanes nor electricity, was, in itself, a real sacrifice for Keith. As we perused the brochures and literature of the British Gospel Mission, received through Mr. & Mrs. Perry, it seemed as though we were reading from the very Book of the Acts of the Apostles. "Come over into Surgapam and help us," we read. "Surgapam (pop. two million) is open to the Gospel."
This had only been made possible since the withdrawal of the British Occupation Forces from India, even though there never had been any British forces actually stationed in Surgapam. We rejoiced with India in her newly found political independence and the establishment of a republic, however, although the fledgling nation was now free from the foreign yoke, many of her people continued to remain enslaved in more ways than one.
This was especially true of the people of Surgapam District in what was then Central Provinces. Under the new Constitution, "religious liberty" may have been declared, but it did not mean that restrictions had been lifted immediately and throughout the whole land. It would take many years before this and other new freedoms could be achieved in the very remote and backward areas.
The Burtons went on to write: "Unfortunately, ancient prejudices die hard and there are still petty officials who find the old way far more profitable. Such autocratic authorities are determined to obstruct any innovation. They have made themselves rich for so long by exploiting the poor people, that they bitterly resent any intrusion by those bringing with them the love and compassion of Jesus Christ."
As for the British, we had received reports that, prior to Independence in 1947, the nearest British "Resident", would pay an annual visit to the palace in Aranchalganj, the capital of Surgapam, but apparently not with any desire to see that justice was administered. It was mostly to enjoy a tiger hunt with the Maharajah who was virtually a dictator in a realm he considered his own. Three years had passed since India had emerged from the humiliation of foreign oppression to achieve the dignity of full nationhood, but, deep in the interior, life continued as before. It was almost as though we were going to pre-Independence India and frankly, the more we thought of that, the more we were scared.
Lionel Burton, who by now was probably on his way to Bombay to meet us, wrote the following after the first exploratory crossing of the border into Surgapam: "We went around visiting people, inviting them to our camp-fire, but fear held them in their homes and, in the evening, only one man came to talk. They knew that when the officials returned, woe betide any who were proved to have shown interest. Surgapam's jungles present many a menace to the solitary traveller. There are tigers, wolves, bears, hyenas, wild boar, snakes and scorpions. Dare we set foot on the other side of the Kanahari River? Have we the courage to brave such dangers? We have been challenged to first count the cost."
But the Burtons went on to show that what was in their minds were not merely the many wild animals that frequent the jungles of Surgapam, but men . The tigers are the rich land-owners who, through using forced, unpaid labour, are sapping the very life blood of the poverty-stricken villagers and keeping them in perpetual slavery . The wolves are the police - wolves in uniform who, in the name of justice, take bribes, rob the poor and ill-treat all who oppose them."
"There are the Brahmins and other high-caste Hindus - hyenas, parasites, growing fat on the flesh of those less fortunate. There are masses of under-privileged of all tribes and castes, all of whom are a constant prey to these lusty, ravenous beasts, which still roam freely in this dangerous wilderness. All of these will inevitably turn on and try to devour any traveller who brings the Good News of Freedom to their victims. There will be bitter, relentless opposition."
"Mosquitoes, too, are very prevalent and alcoholic drink is an insidious evil - an ever-present problem. Surgapam is a place of steep hills and deep valleys as well as fertile plains. Lastly, there is darkness in Surgapam, for the sun cannot pierce the blanket of high trees and creeping plants which overshadow everything in the monsoon season. We must enter with axe, knife, lantern, fearing nothing and suffering gladly to bring love, light, peace and joy to those in the darkness of the shadow of death."
These were the words, which called us to a place that had NOTHING! They also challenged us afresh to realize our own weaknesses and inadequacy, and to rest assured, in faith, that His Strength in made perfect in our frailty (2 Cor. 12:9). As you can imagine, to take our eyes off Jesus, made our future nothing less than terrifying.
Life at sea had to have its lighter moments. For Keith, it was when he tried to exercise his aerial prowess. Already he has told of his grounded hopes of ever becoming a pilot, but he is not one to give up without a fight. On this occasion, with neither flying machine nor license to operate it, he decided to take to the air. It happened in the following way.
As a family, we had all been up on deck watching the sea, relaxing and reading our books. Robert's spirit of enquiry got the better of him and he decided to climb the railing. Keith, who was enjoying a nap, was wakened when I called to Robert to get down, just as he was beginning to stand on the second top rung! Opening his eyes, Keith saw what he thought to be his son about to dive overboard and the shock of the scene catapulted him from his deck chair like a rocket to grab Robert and save him from the perils of the deep. This frightening experience made such an impression on Keith 's mind that the whole nerve-racking episode was relived that night in his dreams.
Keith occupied our cabin's top bunk while Robert and I had the two lower berths on opposite sides; baby Paul was in his cot between the two lower berths. As Keith 's nightmare reached the point of climax, he made a rapid take-off and continued on a flight path that took him right over cot and baby. Unfortunately, he could not maintain altitude and was forced to make a heavy crash belly-landing on the floor. It was quite a dive that brought him to consciousness, happily, without injury. What is perhaps most remarkable about these aerobatics is that he landed on the only available clear space on the cabin floor - and all this, mind you, while flying blind!
Chapter Two, Section II
At last, February 2nd. 1951, arrived. Ruth & I could never forget that day which, for me, began at 4.30 a.m., gazing out of the cabin porthole. Being on the starboard side of the ship meant that we could catch glimpses of the coastline during the night. Far in the distance, we could see lights on the shore and, taking the ship's speed into account, I tried to relate them to towns on the map. I just could not wait to arrive at Bombay.
The surface of the sea was like glass and the moon's reflection made one feel so romantic. But, for all its seeming tranquillity, the western coastline of India can, at times, be anything but hospitable. There are few natural harbours and the monsoon winds and tides can be very deceptive. However, in spite of these hazards, the coastline, now coming into view with the dawning of a new day, has attracted merchants since before recorded history.
As the sun began to rise over the Deccan Plateau, bringing into view palm-fringed beaches, we could see boats, some quite close to us, in these beautiful tropical waters. When I waved to fishermen in one boat, they cheerfully responded. I was so excited because here was communication in spite of all that divided us - race, culture, colour and creed. My mind went back to those who, many hundreds of years previously, fishing in the same primitive way, in similar sailing craft, would have waved to foreign ships in like manner. They would have been merchants in vessels from a score of different countries, manned by traders in silks, ivory, gold and aromatic spices from India's rich and varied culture.
As our ship began to reduce speed and Bombay's Harbour, the "Gateway of India" and Marine Drive came into focus, I realized that within a few hours, this exotic culture would claim us as a family. I began to sense "butterflies” in my stomach; I began to feel afraid. Could I cope? I was not only responsible for my own life but I had a wife and two small children who depended on me. Stern Customs and Immigration officials came aboard and they were none too polite. The ship became motionless in the harbour. We went to breakfast and had to wait until 5 p.m. before the ship berthed and then, until 6.30 p.m. before we could disembark. The sights, smell and noise made me feel very frightened. We had arrived. Had I made the biggest mistake and blunder of my life?