LADY MISSIONARY

New Zealand Listener, Volume 3, Issue 70, 25 October 1940, Page 40

LADY MISSIONARY

I had an appointment. The stenographer showed me through into a_ larger office filled with packing cases, hat boxes, an open haversack, parcels, suitcases and bags scattered about in wild disorder. A figure came forward to meet me with rather a harassed and apologetic smile. It was Miss Sowry-the lady missionary. Next time you read in some novel or other that women missionaries are thin, sharp, and forbidding, don’t believe it. If Miss Sowry is a fair representative of women missionaries, then the fiction writers should go to school ] INQUIRED for Miss Z. Sowry. again. To Be or Not to Be Miss Sowry isa charming person,-with a sense of humour that has possibly carried her over some very rough moments. At this moment she was trying to solve the problem of her departure for India. It was a case of to be or not to be? Her boat was due that day -she was.to leave the next day. Whether it would come.in and whether she would leave on it or not was problematical: "It's this business of the Burma Road," she explained. "A. Japanese boat was to have’ taken me on from Singapore to India-now, with things as they are, I don’t know. . ." She pointed to the array of luggage. " My china is in ‘there, my medical supplies in that. box-I’ve got things all over the place-and to-morrow we may leave." ‘Miss Sowry’s destination is the district of Dornakal, 300 miles north of Madras, where, for the past twelve years, she has been engaged in missionary work among the natives. A Lone Woman "And this is the’ end of your leave?" I asked. "Yes, my time is fast up. We work in five-year periods with one year’s leave in between." "But don’t you get any, other holidays?" " Yes-actually it is a case of necessity. The monsoon weather is dreadfully trying, and we go up to the hills for a few weeks each year to avoid the terrific heat of the plains." "Are there many other women missionaries at Dornakal?" "No," she said, "I work alone there." " But how lonely for you?" "Yes," she admitted, "it is lonely at times, but I have my gramophone to play at night, and if I mee too tired -I read."

She said it with a smile, as though these things were ordinary, everyday happenings. I looked at her with respect. There are many other women like her; giving up their homes, their friends and their comfortable existence, to spend hard, lonely years working among natives in some remote corner of the earth. " Really," she said with a smile, "we can’t do much about it. The missionary life, like all vocations, is a definite call,

and though you might want to ignore it -you can’t. Then once you begin to work-you are lost forever. Even though I hate leaving home again, I’m excited at the thought of being on my way... I do hope: we get off to-morrow,’ she added hopefully. She told me something of her work out ‘there-of the Indian Bishop of the Dornakal Diocese, a very wonderful man. I was interested to hear he had visited New Zealand in 1923. Among the Untouchables The Missionaries began their work among the outcasts, or as they are better known, the untouchables; and that what diplomacy and politics have failed to do, I was assured, the word of the Missionary has, to some degree, accomplished. There are so many shining lights among the converted untouchables that the caste natives, impressed by their example, sought of their own accord the Missionary’s help. Miss Sowry told me it is a common sight now to see the caste natives and the untouchables kneeling side by side in .a place of worship. "Sometimes," she added, "we have ‘whole tribes coming along. in a body

to be received into the fold. In each village we have established a Mothers’ Union to instruct the native women how to become good wives and mothers. Then there are our girls’ schools, where the younger ones are trained in a proper understanding of cleanliness and civilised ways of living. That is something we are fighting all the time; disease, malnutrition, and dirt. One common and most disfiguring disease is what they call ‘sagi, which has its origin in dirt and uncleanliness. We have to deal with a fair crop of illnesses, mostly malaria, typhoid, and the common measles and chicken-pox. What makes it all so difficult is their religious beliefs, child marriage and such survivals, It ties them to their unhealthy mode of living." : From Village to Village Miss Sowry’s most arduous work, however, is village duty. She told me she travels from village to village, tending the sick and instructing others. She takes a gramophone with records of hymns in their own language along with her. The natives become so_ interested, they cluster round and demand an explanation. The magic lantern, with slides of sacred scenes, is always a great attraction, and draws the whole village to her side. She speaks their language herself quite fluently. These village trips are genuinely hard work. As Miss Sowry has no car, she has to use her feet-sometimes on a ten-mile stretch between villages, with the temperature at 90 degrees. The only mode of locomotion round there is the bullock cart, and Miss Sowry sprained her back so badly while driving one of these unwieldly vehicles that she now prefers walking. "How do you manage for food? Do you like the native dishes?" Food is a Problem She made a little grimace. "Curry ~ and rice? No, I don’t like it. Food is a bit of a problem out there. The only fresh meat available is goat’s fleshwhich also I don’t like! Mostly I live on fruit and vegetables. Indian vegetables haven’t much flavour, but the fruit is good; mangoes, paw-paws, bananas, oranges, limes and dried fruit from Madras. Oh, I forgot Dutch cheese -that compensates somewhat for the tinned butter." "Tt’s amazing you keep well on such a diet?" I said. "My health did break down," she said, "but this year’s holiday at home has set me up again. Now I’m ready for work ... if only that boat goes to-morrow. . ." ‘I left her amidst her luggage, still anxious, but still with her sense of humour.