A journey to missionary Burma
Mary Rillstone
The author tells us about a memorable visit to the lands where her uncle, Columban Fr Thomas Rillstone touched the lives of so many people.
I didn't realise, until I was much older, the profound effect that Uncle Tom's (Columban Fr Thomas Rillstone) visits home had on me when I was a child. It seemed as though I saw him often as a child, but in fact it was only twice - when I was eight years old and then when I was 16. I have fond memories of stories, photos and slides that Uncle Tom would show us on his return home on holiday from Burma.
We wrote many letters to each other and that contributed to the sense of knowing him well.
After Uncle Tom came home to New Zealand when I was 16, he was unable to visit again because of the political situation in Burma. If he returned to New Zealand to see his family, he would not be allowed back into Burma. So it wasn't until he arrived back in New Zealand because of ill health when I was an adult that we re-connected. However, the time was limited as he was unwell and died three years later at Invercargill on July 2, 1981.
My daughter, Donna, has also been ‘touched' by his influence. Although Donna did not have the same length or frequency of contact with Uncle Tom, he had a profound influence on her life. Donna has spent many years of University study on Burma and its people and the influence of Buddhism in that country. We had a dream of visiting where Uncle Tom lived with the Kachin people in the north of Burma. After much planning we finally traveled there.
During our journey we hoped to find someone who remembered Uncle Tom. The only means that we had of being able to identify him were some old black and white photos that he sent to me 40 years ago. It seemed to be an impossible task
We flew to Myitkyina in northern Burma, the area in which Uncle Tom lived. After settling into our hotel room we decided to check out the town. We found an eating place that had vegetables and rice, plus fried cashew. We ate at the local food places as this was always inexpensive and was part of the cultural experience for us.
On the way back to the hotel we decided to walk along the Irrawady River which was close by. Uncle Tom had often spoken of it and I remember slides that he took of the sunset over the river, when he was living in the Kachin hills around Bhamo. It was a moving moment to stand by the river that he had spoken of so often and to see the Himalaya Mountains in the distance. It was by this river that an extraordinary set of circumstances began that led to some unexpected connections.
An elderly man walking along the river bank stopped and asked if we spoke English.
As we strolled he told us about the Nat Festival and asked if we would like to go to it with him the next day? We were delighted as this is a special festival for this part of the country. It lasts all week and we were hoping to be able to see part of it while we were in Myitkyina.
The next day he met us and we walked to the Nat Festival, stopping at a teahouse to meet some of his friends and we showed them the photo of Uncle Tom. None of his friends recognised Uncle Tom. We were becoming used to this and had almost given up on finding someone who knew him. It was an amazing experience to see the people dressed in the Kachin national costume exactly as Uncle Tom had shown us many years ago.
We hadn't been at the festival long, when a young man who identified himself as a reporter/photographer approached us and asked why we were in Myitkyina. We explained about Uncle Tom and that we hoped we might meet someone who knew him. We showed him the photograph and the unbelievable happened! He said, "That is Father Rillstone isn't it? I'm on leave from the seminary for a year and his photograph is on the wall there. He was Dean of the seminary many years ago."
He was just as amazed as we were and surprised to meet some of Uncle Tom's family. "I'm going to take you to meet someone who might have known your uncle." We followed him across the festival grounds to one of the officials. We were introduced and I showed him Uncle Tom's photograph. He looked at us and said,
"Fr Rillstone? You a relative?" We replied that we were and he laughed and said, "You look like him, but not so big - he was fat! He had magic (tricks) that he would show us when he came to the school." He had been a teenager then and remembered Uncle Tom vividly when he visited the students at school.
He invited us to come to Mass with him the next day at the church where Uncle Tom had been. We could hardly believe that this was happening! We were leaving in the afternoon of the next day. We could not stay longer as all the flights back to Mandalay or Rangoon were fully booked for the next two weeks.
The Church was full, which surprised us, as we had not expected so many of the locals to be Catholic. We were told that the Kachin people are known in Burma as having a larger Christian population than the rest of Burma, because of the work of the Baptist and Catholic missionaries. While the Mass itself was familiar, the singing and the enthusiastic participation of the people was unexpected. The songs and prayers were in their Kachin language, which is quite rhythmic and melodic. We had been told that the Churches are the only place where large numbers of people are allowed to gather together. It's fortunate, that in a country that is so controlled by fear, that Churches are a safe place for people to gather in community.
After Mass our friend told us to wait outside the church. A few minutes later a group of elderly women arrived with him. One of them looked at us and came rushing up with arms outstretched and hugged us tightly saying,
"Fr Rillstone, Fr Rillstone - this is a dream."
Our friend had told her that we were Uncle Tom's niece and great-niece. She told us that Uncle Tom had looked after her - she had no family left when she was a child and he had made sure that she was cared for and educated. She had never forgotten him and was overwhelmed to see relatives of his. To add to this surprise she looked at the photo of Uncle Tom with a group of young Kachin women in traditional dress and pointed to one of them in surprise, "That's my cousin," she said. We were as excited as she was. We couldn't have hoped for more.
We were invited to visit and have meals with them but we were leaving Myitkyina that afternoon. However, we did go to one of the teahouses in the market place and heard more stories about Uncle Tom and how loved he was by their people. We also heard how the missionary priests had enabled the people to receive an education and make a difference in the quality of their lives.
This journey to the Myitkyina area that was Uncle Tom's home for many of his years in Burma, was an experience that neither of us will ever forget. It was a journey made more special by meeting some of those Kachin people whose lives he had touched and by whom he will always be remembered.
