The rainbow never sets

In preparation for our move back to Australia, we had to pack our big luggage, which was to be shipped by sea. I had designed a beautiful teak desk, which was built by a local cabinetmaker. It was my pride and joy. I was determined that it should go with us back to Australia. I bought some more teak boards to build a crate around the desk. Also some of the children's desks and two bedside tables were crated to go with us. And all my books had to be packed! It was physically a difficult job, and the accumulated dust on the books over the last two years gave me a shocking hay fever. My nose was just pouring, and it was so sticky and hot that perspiration was streaming from my body. Not a pleasant memory. Then we had to get someone from customs to check the crates for any illegal goods, and only then could we nail everything down.

We had hoped that the shipping company would be able to put iron bands around our crates, but no luck. They didn't have any bands, and we couldn't buy any in the shops either. We had to resort to the usual Timorese way Ñ improvise. Some shops still had some old iron bands around from their crates. We asked for those and also borrowed the tool to fasten them. Next day the shipping company sent a truck to pick up our luggage. The crate with my desk was so heavy, I had fears that they would not be able to heave it on the truck, but plenty of manpower did the trick. I followed the truck, as I feared it might not get to Tenau, but I needn't have worried. They loaded it on the ship without dropping it into the sea!

We were sitting outside in the cool of the evening, when we heard through Radio Australia, that Whitlam and the Australian Labor Party had won the election. Tears came into my eyes. Could it be true that we would come back to Australia under a Labor government, the first since my arrival in Australia? There was great rejoicing in our family.

At Tarus I had to set exams for year three and five and marked all the papers. I felt depressed, for apart from some, they were all below standard. Maybe it was because my questions were too difficult? But there was no time to ruminate on that. Farewells everywhere, and everyone wanted me to either preach the sermon or make a speech. I don't quite know how I managed to get through it all. Looking back now, I must have been walking in a haze. My heart was aching, for I had come to love the work and especially the people I worked with. At a staff meeting, one of those rare occasions, it was decided that six of the poorest students of year three would have to leave the school to become lay pastors, whilst the others were taken up into year four. Of year five, all students would graduate, the congregations for their placements were decided upon, and two of them, Zacharias Neno and Frans Balla, were to be given scholarships to continue their studies at Salatiga. Both of them were quite outstanding in their achievements, Zacha more in the field of literature and theology, Frans more for languages and Old and New Testament. This gave me great personal satisfaction, as particularly Frans had been like another son in our home.

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