Indonesia

The farewell at Tarus was set for our last evening in Indonesia. It also became a Christmas party for the school, where I preached my last sermon. A lovely dinner followed, and then it had to be, farewell to the students. How can one become so attached to so many people? I had to give each one of them a big hug, and deep down I had hoped that they would be able to see us off at the airport the following day. But none of them came.

We had sold most of our furniture beforehand. The next morning was like a big market day. People came to pick up their purchases, and small items from the house and kitchen were given away. Simpson, our monkey, would go back with Filus.

Chris had invited us all to his place for lunch, and to take us in our Toyota to the airport. There was, of course, a good reason for doing so, as he would get the car keys and the registration papers. He and I both had agreed that the car should continue to serve the theological school at Tarus, of which he was still the principal. Unfortunately, this had never been officially ratified by the Synod, because there were so few meetings.

At the airport there were hundreds of people seeing us off. I booked in our luggage with 20 kilos excess, which we had to pay for. I too stepped on the scales. I weighed 78 kilos, my lowest I can recall.

Then farewells again. When I saw the large number of ministers, all of whom had been my students at one stage, I lost it and sobbed like a child. Agabus just took me into his arms and supported me along the tarmac, right to the stairs of the plane. I couldn't think, my whole body and soul was bruised and aching.

We arrived in Darwin after dark. No one at customs bothered looking at our luggage, nor did I have to pay any excess baggage. A very warm welcome to Australia after three and a quarter years! I still felt too dazed to appreciate being back in Australia. The emotional farewell from all my friends in Timor had been too much.

A meal at a simple restaurant turned out to be a most exciting event for our family. Everyone ordered something we hadn't been able to have in Timor: salads. What simple joys. The plane to Sydney took off after midnight, and we arrived there about 7 am on 22 December 1972. Two taxis took us quickly to 24 Bent St. Lindfield. We found everything prepared for us, even a new Holden station wagon waiting for us in the garage. I felt better for the first time since we had left Timor. It was good to be home again.

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