Grandfather’s life in “Manchuria”

authorMark O’Neill

Grandfather’s life in “Manchuria”

authorMark O’Neill

F. O'Neill on cart

thank him for being so friendly and having such a good memory.

Black tea， Irish cakes， a letter and a telegram

Grandfather lived for 45 years in China, the birthplace of tea and the country with a thousand varieties of the drink —b ut h e c ontinued t o d rink t he b lack I ndian t ea o f h is c hildhood.

This is one of the many things I learnt from his cook, Mr Zhao , whom I had the great good fortune to meet on my first visit to Faku in the spring of 1986. Guided by a local resident, I went early one morning to the bread factory where Mr Zhao worked and found him asleep on a window sill. I gentled nudged him； he woke up and I said that I was the grandson of Pastor Ni . He quickly overcame his surprise and we sat down at a nearby table. I asked him if he could remember the diet of Grandfather and gave him a pen and a piece of paper to write it down. He wrote down the dishes which Grandfather liked to eat and which he made for him. “He liked to drink the kind of black tea which they like in Ireland. It was not available in Faku, so every three months I had to go to Shenyang and buy a supply of Lipton’s for that period,”he said. Shenyang was the biggest city in Manchuria and had a large foreign community； it had stores that sold foreign products and foods， including Lipton. For Mr Zhao， it was a long journey— b y h orse c art o ver p oor r oads t o T ieling a nd，f romt here，a t rain r ide t o S henyang.

The Irish are among the largest drinkers of tea in the world. According to figures in 2014, they drank on average 3.22 kilograms per person per year, ranking third in the world； Turkey was top with an average of 7.54 kg and Morocco second with an average of 4.34 kg. Both are Islamic countries； Islam forbids the drinking of alcohol， so many Muslims abstain from it. Irish people， on the other hand， drink alcohol — but not Grandfather and most other missionaries who regard it as a bad habit. So tea was their principal beverage. And pastors spend a lot of time talking， to members of their congregations and at meetings with other pastors； like Chinese，they like to invite their guests to drink tea with them， as a form of politeness. I did not ask Mr Zhao if Grandfather added milk and/or sugar to his tea； he probably did， because this was and is the custom in Ireland. For my Chinese friends， this is something unimagineable！ Adding one or the other or both destroys the taste of the tea and turns it into something else. I hope that Chinese w ill f orgive u s f or this bad habit and put it down to our lack of sophistication.

Mr Zhao said that working for Grandfather was a testing experience; he had to learn to make new recipes and dishes that he had not made before. Like other Irish people, Grandfather liked cakes, buns and biscuits, mostly made of flour; people in Manchuria did not eat them. So Mr Zhao had to learn how to make them. When he visited the homes of Chinese people, Grandfather ate and drank what was put in front of him; that was the polite thing to do. But, when he was at home, he liked to have the western food that he had been used to at home. To talk to Mr Zhao wasvery moving; here was someone who worked and lived with Grandfather and could describe the experience first-hand. How fortunate I was to find him; I

Finding a wife

Grandfather arrived in Manchuria on his own. His salary was modest, 200 pounds, not enough to support more than one person. After five years, the church increased his salary to 300 pounds； he could now afford to support two people and have a wife. The Presbyterian Church - like other Protestant churches -allows its pastors to marry and have a family if they wish. The Catholic church says that its priests must remain celibate. In Faku, there was one foreign Catholic priest whom Grandfather knew. For him, it was a big decision. At that time, the practice for foreign missionaries was to marry women of their own country - not Chinese. Grandfather knew that the life of his wife would be very difficult； she would have to overcome the same obstacles as he had done - learn Mandarin and adapt to such an unfamiliar，difficult and sometimes hostile environment. Very few women were willing to accept such a life. He wondered if he should follow the example of the priest in Faku； he ‘married his congregation’ and devoted all his energy to them. Grandfather received a letter from his girlfriend Annie in Ireland； she was a teacher at a famous secondary school there. In the letter， she said that they had gone out together for five years in Ireland and now he had been in Manchuria for five - a total of 10 years. It was time for him to decide w hether t hey w ould m arry，s he s aid.

This is the story told in the family of what happened next. Grandfather reflected on the question for a long time and decided that it would be better to remain celibate； the life in Faku would be too difficult for her. So he posted a letter，s aying t hat i t w ould b e b etter n ot t o m arry. In those days， a letter from Faku to Ireland took months to arrive. While the letter made its slow journey around the world， Grandfather had a change of heart. He thought about the many years ahead, the bitter cold of the Manchurian winter and whether he could face all this on his own, without the love and companionship of a wife and children. He decided: no, he could not.So he sent a telegram to Annie, asking him to come to China to marry him. A telegram was the fastest form of communication at that time. The story goes that early one morning the postman came to Annie’s house with the letter saying that he did not want to marry her. She read this, with deep disappointment. Then, that same morning, the postman arrived again, with the telegram asking her to come. Her disappointment turned to joy； she had not waited 10 years in vain. In fact， she was well suited for the missionary life. Her father was also a pastor， of a big church in Belfast； there were several missionaries in her family. So she knew well what to expect and the role the wife of a missionary should play. In August 1903， she left Belfast on a German steamer； on October 7，she and Frederick got married at a church in Shanghai and had a brief honeymoon in Hangzhou. After their arrival in Faku， her first task was to learn Chinese. Without the language， she would be no use to him， he said. So each morning she had three hours of study；then t hree m ore h ours i n t he e vening.

Annie gave birth to five sons. Two of them died young and were buried in Faku. The other three grew up for several years in Faku and then returned to Belfast for their education； they stayed there with relatives or friends. So， for a missionary wife like Annie， this was the contradiction of her life. Her husband and their work were in Faku； her sons and the rest of her family were on the other side of the world. There was no Internet， Skype or long-distance telephone； the only contact was by letter -telegram if urgent. How could you have close contact with your children under such circumstances？ Did they not grew up apart from you？ During the pain and challenges of their growing up， you were not there by their side. This was the sacrifice made by those who chose to be missionaries in a foreign country. I never met Grandfather, who died on October 7, 1952；it was the 49th anniversary of his marriage. I met Grandmother just once, during a visit with my parents to Belfast. Father described her as a kind, gentle woman who liked talking. It was

Difficult return

Grandfather and Grandmother left Faku on June 1942. It was not their choice；as citizens of an ‘enemy country’， they were escorted by Japanese police and， after a long journey via Dalian， Yokohama and Lourenco Marques (in Mozambique), they returned to Belfast. It was a reluctant return； they did not want to go back. They had spent nearly all their adult life in Faku and Liaoning； their home， their schools，their church， their hospitals and their friends were there. That was where they belonged. I understood this when I walked around the Christian cemeteries of Happy Valley in Hong Kong. I found the graves of many Catholic and Protestant priests, nuns and pastors from Europe, North America, the Philippines and other countries. They had come to Hong Kong in their 20s and their 30s and stayed there for their whole lives. Even after their health deteriorated and they could not be as active as before, they chose to stay among their colleagues and friends. I have met some of these people in Hong Kong； they told me that， as the years passed， they had less and less contact with their families and friends at‘home’ and felt more comfortable here. When they went back ‘home’ and talked about their life in Hong Kong and the mainland， few people were interested or wanted to know. So the Chinese term‘laojia’is accurate in that it refers to the home that they used to have — but does not mean the home they want to have now. When Grandfather and Grandmother returned， they had a large family and a church community that warmly welcomed them. But I think that it must have b een d ifficult f or G randfather t o a djust. Who would speak to him in Chinese？ To whom could he speak about his life and work in Manchuria， except for the small number of those like him who had been there？ One cousin told me that， as a young girl， she used to play with Grandfather.“When he became angry, he used to tell us off in Mandarin, which we could not understand,” she said. Perhaps it was a way for him to practice it — and not make the children angry because they did not know what h e w as s aying.

During World War Two, it was impossible for Grandfather to return to Manchuria. After the war ended, other Presbyterian missionaries went back. But, in 1945, he was 75 and there was a civil war in China. So the church decided that it was impossible for him to go back. He and his wife lived in a modest house on a pleasant street in the south of Belfast， facing a large park； it was close to the church where Annie’s father had been the pastor. They had in the house the small number of items they had been able to carry back from Faku: most of their belongings they had to leave behind — they could only bring what they could c arry.

My father told a story of Grandfather’s later years. After lunch, he would take a nap in his bedroom. One afternoon, the family looked into his room to check up on him —but found the bed empty and the wardrobe open. So they rushed out of the house to look for him. They ran down the street and found him， dressed in a suit and a hat and carrying a suitcase； he was walking to catch the bus for the railway station， so that he could t ake t he t rain b ack t o F aku！