Indonesia

I jumped into the car with him, and at great speed we went to his home, which didn't have a driveway. He asked me to help him carry her to the car. He sat in the front with her on his lap, and as I was making for the hospital, I felt like driving an ambulance without the siren. Along the bumpy road I could hear him call out to his wife: "Hold on, my dear, don't push, we are nearly there."

Arriving at the hospital, we had to carry her on a long footpath, which led straight into the delivery room. Octo and I were puffing and hurrying along, and his wife was beginning to groan. With a final effort we heaved her onto the delivery table, struggled out and sank on a bench to catch our breath. We were still puffing when we could hear a loud baby cry emerging from the inside. A boy was born. Octo and I looked at each other and he said: "Another minute, and we would not have made it."

As a reward for my effort, Octo asked me to name the baby, which was a special honour. After consulting with Alison we suggested Mark Stewart, after two of our boys. Then I was asked to baptise him at his church. What a great privilege this was!

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The car was not the only mode of transport we used. If we wanted to visit a student who came from the surrounding islands we had to go by sailing boat. Mes had gradually attached himself to our family like no other student. He was to call us Dad and Mum eventually, and he wanted us to visit his parents on the island of Semau. A weekend in July 1970 was arranged, and he took us all, including Lisa and Filus across, in his family's sailing boat. The wind was favourable, and in three hours we arrived in the village of Piaklain, announced by the sound of a coon shell.

The houses in the village were all bebak, built haphazardly scattered all over the place. There was no road or path and it was very difficult to find one's way. We were said to have been the first European family ever to have stayed the night on that island. Well, we felt very honoured indeed. Mes' parents were extremely nice to us. They had built especially for us a shower screen near the house, and dug a toilet pit with a low screen not too far away. Normally, people in the villages went into the bush to relieve themselves, but Mes had thought of that too. They had to fetch the water for our ablution from a well about two kilometers away.

Mes' father was the lay preacher in Piaklain and on Sunday we all went to church and listened to his sermon. People had a high regard for him. On Monday we walked to the northern end of the island through bush. There was a lovely sandy beach, but coral rocks prevented us from having a good swim, and as there was no shade, we found it very hot. Our boys had fun riding on the Timor ponies in the afternoon.

Late in the evening we returned to the boat. We couldn't choose the

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