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March 20 - Siantar
     
I walked over to the hospital in the morning to see how the cleaning process was coming along, and then had a hair-cut - rather a severe "Dutch cut", due to my inability to explain in either Malay or Dutch just how I wanted it trimmed.

Mrs. Coenraad had lunch with me, and I typed notes and sorted papers virtuously. Dr. C. telephone that the boat would not be in until to-morrow, so I had another day of solitude to put in. It was not too lonesome, thanks to Mrs. C. I had tea with her and with her friend Mrs. Mattison, who was highly entertained by our accounts of life in a Batak kampong.

March 21 - Siantar

Mrs. Mattison called for me a little before eight o'clock and took me to church. This being Palm Sunday, the ceremony was unusually lengthy, with the blessing of the palms first, distributing them to the congregation - and there were not quite enough to go around and some little Batak boys went without palms - a curious deprivation in the tropics. I was entranced with the [[strikethrough]] little [[/strikethrough]] Batak altar boys, their brown little faces looking just as cherubic in cassock and surplice as [[strikethrough]] the [[/strikethrough]] any Anglo Saxon youth's - and with the children's choir, singing hymns in Malay. Benediction followed Mass, and it was curious to hear Tantum ergo sung by those soft young voices.

As I write it now, the heat of noon is almost at its height. The horizon is black with the threat of our daily thunderstorms, and it seems strange to think that at home this is the first day of spring.

Bill and Davis arrived about one O'clock, and after waiting an hour and a half for Williams and Jennier, we decided to have lunch. It was nearly four when the two missing ones arrived. As usual, they had had motor trouble, and had lunched at Tebing Tingi. We all stayed at the hotel for the night, and packed so as to be ready to move tomorrow.

March 22 - Base Camp

We had lunch with the Coenraads, on snipe that were brought us as specimens. It is impossible to keep them alive in captivity, so we ordered them killed and broiled. This is snipe hunting season, and the little birds were delicious. 

About four o'clock we got a truck and moved our gear from the hotel to the hospital "Rumeh sakit Pantoean", on the edge of town, not far from the Coenraads' house and opposite a rubber plantation. It is a tremendous building, and we have rented the wing that was originally built for Europeans - five rooms in a row, each with bath, klambo, and verandah. One room has a sink and some shelves, and will do for a kitchen. Meals are to come over to us from the hotel.

The place has been abandoned for some time, but has just been all cleaned up for us. Electric light and water ha^[[ve]] been installed, and Mrs. Coenraad provided the final touch by putting white tablecloths and embroidered scarfs in place.