The students continued to warm to Albert. They sensed a sincerity that was not evident with other instructors. He gave his leisure hours to assist them and often ventured into their individual worlds to nourish relationships which soon developed beyond that of teacher and student. Often he would recount his student days in Timor, earning their admiration for his stand against the authorities. He never discussed his internment. This was part of his earlier life’s horrors which he attempted to purge from his mind.
The memory could never be completely erased. He resisted the temptation to solicit their sympathy. No, these past nightmares were his, and his alone. Often, when the day’s stress prevented Seda from sleeping soundly, the nightmares would recur and he would awaken, screaming, to find himself drenched with perspiration. His nightmares were real; they filled his dreams with the terror of his incarceration in that stinking hell hole in Kupang, the detention centre for subversives.
Albert was already in his fifth year at the institution. It had grown considerably as a result of Australia’s commitment in Vietnam. He taught Malay and Indonesian which, although basically the same languages, were just different enough to warrant separate courses. The 1965 course had commenced two months before, soon after the new year. Twenty students had been accepted from over one thousand applicants. Three were Foreign Affairs officers, and the remainder a mixture from the armed forces and government bodies such as AID and information agencies.
Albert was part of a five member teaching team responsible to the Director of Studies. The director coordinated the language courses and, in turn, reported to the college head, a Defence Department appointee. The courses were designed to produce graduates fluent in the target languages. Very few of the new intake had any previous exposure to the Asian languages as these were not taught in Australian schools.
The Malay Emergency, followed by the Indonesian ‘ Konfrontasi ’ movement finally convinced the government of the need to develop an Asian language institution. Premises were located within an existing defence establishment and lecturers were scrounged from wherever they could be found. The need for extensive security inquiries reduced the pool of potential instructors to a small but talented group of men and women who were expected to produce linguists in the incredibly short period of just one year!
Father Douglas had provided the information required to fill in the blanks in Albert Seda’s past. Security had been impressed with his anti-Soekarno stand and the priest’s recommendations. He was cleared for the low-level security position almost without reservation. There had been some concern that this young man was anti-military; however lengthy discussions with Albert convinced the department that this was not so. It was understood that his animosity was directed at the Indonesian military machine and not the Australian armed forces. Had they persisted, Albert would have admitted that, in fact, he had a deep rooted hatred for all military groups but was realistic enough to realise that he had to say what they wanted to hear.
The Indonesian community in Melbourne was relatively small. Albert avoided his former countrymen and had it not been for an occasional visit to Radio Australia and the presence of two other Indonesian instructors, he would have had no contact at all. Occasionally a letter would arrive from his village. Father Douglas had been sent to Sumatra and his replacement refused to assist to forward correspondence from his family. He felt the sadness the migrant experienced on foreign soil once contact with family is broken. A few requests for funds had managed to survive the inadequacies of the postal system, and these always arrived months after the originator had put pen to paper. It was impractical to send money directly to Indonesia. Rupiah were not available in Melbourne, and Australian currency was unknown and not able to be cashed in Kupang. American dollars would certainly be stolen from the mail and postal notes or cheques were hopeless.
The solution was to entrust cash to a courier, but these opportunities were few and far between. At year’s end he would occasionally seek the assistance of graduating students destined for Jakarta. Some would assist, but there were always those who would not, for fear of violating the currency regulations and thereby jeopardising their positions. Once in Jakarta, an embassy official had little difficulty in assisting with such trivial matters.
Albert was reluctant to send money via his stepbrother, Nathan. Occasionally he dispatched letters or small parcels directly to Nathan seeking his assistance as it was unlikely that postal items addressed to a military officer would suffer the same fate as mail bearing a civilian destination. He preferred not to encourage the relationship with Nathan as the Australian Government was unaware of his family association. He was concerned that, as his stepbrother had risen to the rank of colonel, then perhaps they may review his security clearance should the relationship come to light. His earlier declarations would be challenged and he would be dismissed, perhaps even charged, and sent to jail. He was well aware of the Australian paranoia when it came to Asians.
Albert shuddered involuntarily at the thought of being deported. Quickly he dismissed the thought and decided it would not be in his best interests to make further contact with Nathan. He really felt nothing for the man anyway, he justified in his mind. After all, was his brother not one of them now, fighting and killing as the others had done throughout the bloody Revolution? He guessed that Nathan was most probably unaware of Albert’s good fortune as previous communications had been formal and uninformative. Nathan had merely been a convenient conduit to Kupang for his remaining family.
Albert rocked his head from side to side, a habit he had developed when alone and deep in thought. He believed that his relationship to Nathan would eventually jeopardise his position, and decided that he would discontinue all communication with his stepbrother; he would write to his family instructing them not to mention him in any of their letters, as an additional precaution. He was aware from a friend in Radio Australia that occasionally incoming mail was opened at the Australian end and not, as it was commonly assumed, by the Indonesian authorities.
Albert did not know of the existence of ASIO.
Albert turned his attention to the students sitting facing him. Some already showed the strain of these few hard weeks. Others, with a stronger determination, forced themselves along, only to discover the hopelessness of attempting to understand the Asian logic. Every aspect of the languages they were learning seemed to be imbued with underlying alien thought patterns.
Afew students actually enjoyed the pressures caused by constant correction, repetition and competition. These were rare, Albert acknowledged, his eyes moving casually from one student to another. There were only two he could identify in that year’s intake. They stood out far in front of the rest of the class. Neither had previous language training and neither were members of the military.
Albert was pleased. He did not particularly enjoy devoting his life to teaching soldiers whose ultimate purpose was to kill. Intellectually speaking, he found the civilians who attended these courses far superior to the other students. It was for these reasons that Albert created opportunities to develop closer relationships with the civilians. Albert was wise enough to realise that these were the officers selected for overseas posts who might, in time, provide him with assistance should the requirement arise.
The bell rang announcing the end of the period. Albert’s attention returned to his class. The students looked to the instructor who nodded, indicating that time was up. Their expressions reflected the mental fatigue. Written tests often produced this quiet response. As they departed Albert collected the papers and, as it was the end of the school day, he wandered home to the accommodation provided.
Stephen Coleman rubbed his eyes and immediately wished he hadn’t. They felt like sandpaper, irritated by lack of sleep and cigarette smoke. Far too much smoke. He realised that rest was imperative to prepare for the oral test scheduled for later that day. His head ached, the temple pulse exacerbating the pain with a dull throbbing sensation, beating a brittle drum inside his head. He knew that
