Preservings 11 (1997) - Plett Foundation

No. 11, December, 1997
A typical ox-drawn vehicle used by the Chortitzer immigrants to the East Paraguay in 1948. Ironically the
1948 Sommerfeld and Bergthal Colonies have turned out to be the wealthiest Mennonite Colonies in Paraguay
because the land was much more fertile and the eastern part of Paraguay is more densely populated and
highly developed, etc.
There, in an abandoned mill 428 people,
including my parents and siblings, found refuge
from the cold temperatures and winds of
a South American winter.
The hardships of the journey, the overcrowded
facilities in the mill, and the lack of
proper nutrition, took a devastating toll. Dysentery
sapped the health of children and adults
alike, and in the aftermath nine children lay
buried in the German section of the Spanish
cemetery in Villarica, South America.
Our family was not spared; two of those
nine were my siblings. Within forty-eight
hours of each other, my father and mother
buried their youngest children, five-week-old
Helena and two-year-old Isaac. My father of
few words takes five pages in his diary to com-
Ben S. Wiebe slaughtering a hog during the time in
Villarica, Paraguay in 1948. In the background is the
tent in which the family lived.
municate the emotions he experienced during
this time of devastating sorrow. He writes that
he had always hoped to father at lead two children,
a son and a daughter. And happily within
three years of marriage to my mother, this wish
was granted.
“Our measure of gladness was overflowing,”
he writes. “What we had hoped for had
come true. We were given two beautiful children,
who in the short time we had them, gave
us such happiness! But our joy was not to be
for long. God desires them to return to Him;
we must let Him have His way. He gave them
to us, and now He has taken them back to
Himself. To Him we give honour, praise and
thanksgiving.”
My father then expresses his gratitude that
he and mother still had “five wonderful children
remaining”.
Settling the Land.
In October of 1948 my parents embarked
on the final lag of their long journey. “We left
Villarica by oxcart to claim the land we had
come such a long way to farm,” writes Father.
“The journey is incredibly hard, up-hill and
down, through dense forests, and mud, and ravines
and swollen rivers, all in a strange land
where everything is unfamiliar.”
But the pioneer spirit so necessary to forge
ahead in a new land was also present throughout
the difficulties. Father’s last entry before
they reached their destination was: “During a
difficult, discouraging day such as we have
just been through, when nothing comes right,
in a land that is unfamiliar, on a road never
before travelled, and night comes on, and one
is still a long, long way from shelter, then one’s
character is put to the test, and one quickly
discovers the sincerity of brotherhood or how
deep is one’s love for one’s neighbour.’
“So we felt that dreary, heartbreaking
night. But when morning came, dawning as it
did with a glorious sunrise, all was better
again. And after some reflection, we simply
59
had to agree; it had not been so bad after all.
Things could easily have been a lot worse. We
were fortunate to have come through as well
as we did.”
That was the last entry in Father’s diary
for a year. Nothing is written of the time spent
living on the land. I wondered why; there
surely must have been experiences to write
about.
Visit 1996.
And that brings this story to now, nearly
fifty years later. My parents left Paraguay in
October of ‘49, and returned to Canada, to
Grunthal, Manitoba, to live again on the farm
(SE4-5-5E) where they had lived before the
‘Auswandrung’ of ’48. Since I was born two
years after their return, my link with Paraguay
was almost nonexistent. But as I grew older,
it began to be important to me that I explore
my South American ‘roots’.
My mother has two sisters living in Colony
BergthaL East Paraguay, and in October of
1996, I was privileged to visit them. I was met
by wonderful relatives, Jacob and Anna Funk,
who picked me up from the airport in
Asuncion, and took me the nearly 300 kilometers
to Colony Bergthal. For two weeks I
visited and had the unforgettable experience
of meeting my aunts.
I was not quite three when my mother died,
The old abandoned sugar mill in Villarica. Here Ben
S. Wiebe and some 428 others lived from early July
until moving onto the land in October, 1948.
and becoming acquainted with her sisters was
like opening the door to knowing her. My
Taunte Lein is said to be the most like my
mother. She is a warm, happy, spirited woman,
85 years old, and carries herself like someone
half that age! She and my Taunte Tein revealed
my mother to me by the stories they
told of her life and childhood. We laughed and
cried together, and when I said goodbye at the
end of my visit, I felt both the joy of having
found my ‘roots’ and the pain of that early
loss.
My relatives in Colony Bergthal took me
in and gave me a glimpse of life as they live
it. They gave me of their best in hospitality
and in fellowship, and I will never forget the
time I spent with them. I found that we share
a great many aspirations; making a living, raising
a family, and cherishing our grandchildren.
Like us, they too have their society, their
church and their God.
I did ask my Taunte Lein if she could shed