Pioneering in - Far Eastern Bible College

addressed “tuan”. “Tuan” means not only “Sir” but also “Master”.We overseas Chinese seem not worthy of this term either. Sonormally we are called “towkay” or “proprietor” by theaborigines. But during the Japanese occupation, they were afraidof unhappy entanglement. They felt that becoming “tuan” was ahard job, and so withdrew from the faith. This was due to the non-Christians scaring them, “When the Japanese come, they’ll lookout for Americans to kill them.”I’ve discovered that an evangelist tastes a whole gamut offlavours – from salt, sour, sweet, bitter to pungent, fragrant,stringent, rank, yes, none of these escaping him. This is especiallytrue living among the Dyaks. Here life is kaleidoscopic, and fullof surprises. Sometimes he is exalted like a god, at other timesdespised like dung. Our antagonists treat us like dirt and garbagebut amongst believers we are addressed as grandpas or fathers, soattached by them as paint and glue.Whenever we came to a village they would receive us wayahead of the approaches, calling and crowding around. Wheneverwe said good-bye they would send us off en masse men andwomen, old and young, singing at every stage. This was no lessthan showing courtesy to their Sultan. They did not know what anevangelist was nor could they differentiate between a minister anda missionary. Nor did they know our names and surnames. Theysimply called us according to their needs and expectations in us.So they called us “Tuan Selamat,” (Mr. Salvation) or “Tuan Salib”(Mr. Cross).Living in Dyakland was a laborious life. We travelled eitheron foot or by canoe. This often took us over hills and throughrivers and fords. Mountaineering brought slippery hazards, whileon the rivers, dangers of capsizing lurked. Sometimes we spent anight in the jungle, sometimes we halted at a sand bank. Sweat,sweat, sweat was the order of the day. When we arrived at avillage, no sooner was our luggage unloaded than we were136