Page:Kvartalshilsen (Kvinnelige misjonsarbeidere). 1917 Vol. 10 nr. 4.pdf/9

 I had to go with my passport to the German, Austrian and Bulgarian consulates, and with them I finished within a day, then I had to go to the police station and to a Turkish judge as I was missing a paper, they said, and he demanded 20 marks as punishment, which I only reluctantly gave him, as I saw no other way to get on my way with the passport. The next day and several other times I were at the main police station and later I went to the high officials and Turkish officers to get permission to use the Balkan train, which was very difficult for civilians and especially for neutrals. The Norwegian Consul General's kavas went with me from one place to the other, and there are long distances in Constantinople, so I was often out an about from 9 in the morning to 4½ in the afternoon, and it was very tiring to run around like that without results. The German consul gave me a letter of recommendation for my permission, yes, I got his one "kavas" with us and we in fine palaces and the government building; but I was always rejected. I then gave up the Balkan train and was finally allowed to travel by conventional train, which is very cumbersome, since you always have to change trains and in and out of a country, you have to revise passports and clothes on the borders, and instead of 3 days you are 5 —6 days en route from Constantinople to Berlin; but there was nothing to do about it, and I was more than happy when the passport was finally in order and that I had no difficulty getting Fridtjof with me. -

Constantinople is a very beautiful city with its lovely location close to the Bosphorus and its magnificent palaces and high minarets that rise up to the sky. It is also very interesting with its fragile life and suits, so completely different from a European city.

In Constantinople I also met old friends from Musch, and the joy was great on both sides over the reunion. One, the Bedrossean, was formerly a priest in the village of Hawradorig at Musch but was in later years in Constantinople and was thus rescued; he was now employed as a priest and teacher in an Armenian village 2 hours from Constantinople. While he was with us in Musch, we were always good friends, and now he did not know what good he was could do for me, was so readily to help me, when he could he took me on a tour of the fjord, carried little Fridtjof and made all the purchases for my trip, followed me to the station and treated me to the best things when I visited him a couple of times. He didn't think he could do enough because I loved his people and had helped. It was really touching to meet so much gratitude. At this priest place I also met an Armenian member of parliament, who was from Musch and had previously been expelled from there. I knew him and his family well from Musch, they were rescued by a miracle. We sat for a long time talking about the old days and also dwelt on all the terrible things we had experienced. He has lost all his relatives in Musch, 70 of them, only his wife and two children are saved. "Sister Bodil," he said, "you must tell what you have seen down there, and even though our men had been deserving of such treatment, remember that our women and children were murdered, burned and disgraced, and in by the thousands they were thrown into the rivers, it's terrible to think that they have almost destroyed our people. "

In Constantinople itself there were better than anywhere else, only a few thousand Armenians were sent into exile and killed, but from the surrounding villages most were sent to the inner Asia Minor or down to the desert, and most men and older boys were killed en route.

In the German soldiers' home, I met Mikki, our purchaser and servant in the orphanage in Musch. He had followed sister