The following interesting letter was written by Miss Flora McQueen, missionary to Korea, to Miss Vera Cameron, and read by her at the last meeting of the Young Ladies’ Auxiliary of Cameron Presbyterian Church:
Kwangju, Chosen, Asia
October 4, 1924
Dear Friends:--When one is on the other side of the world from the good old U.S.A., one’s mind and heart often turns to the friends “back home,” and as there are many people in Cameron to whom I should like to write personal letters, except for the lack of time, I am taking this way to get a message to all.
I left North Carolina on the night of August the 6th, and never did my native state seem so dear. Between Dunn and Washington, I had the Psalmist’s experience of “washing my couch with my tears,” but after the first wave of home sickness had passed I began to enjoy my trip. We had a day in Washington and one in Chicago, a day much enjoyed with Kate McPherson Ferguson, and her delightful family.
Our next stop was Banff in Alberta, Canada, a beautiful place, and from there we took an auto trip to Lake Louise, a marvelously beautiful trip combining lake and mountain scenery. Banff is 24 hours from Vancouver, and it was fine to hear some one asking for “Miss McQueen,” when we got off the train at the latter place.
Dr. and Mrs. Reynolds, for 32 years missionaries to Korea, took charge of us, bag and baggage, all the way, which made it awfully nice for us.
We sailed from Vancouver on the “Empress of Canada.” A beautiful boat, and the largest afloat on the Pacific, I believe, but even at that it is small compared to the big Atlantic liners. Until the last few years not many people have traveled to the East except missionaries and immigrants, so there was no special need for large boats—I guess. Personally, I don’t see why any one would come to the Orient except on the “King’s Business,” as it seems to me nothing could be more dreadful than to be in business among such uncongenial surroundings. However, “they say” more business people are coming every year. We had our first introduction to Oriental life when we docked at Yokohama for a day and took a ride around the city. It is a heap of pitiful ruins, and no permanent buildings will be allowed for three years. Japan has had one “shock” after another all summer, so I was rather glad to get “off of her,” as it gave me the uncertain feeling of being blown up any minute as long as I tarried on Japan soil.
At Kobe we had a “meet” with the custom officers, but they were very kind to us, and didn’t seem suspicious of anything in my baggage except an innocent pincushion. I fancy they thought I was smuggling dark things into their country from the way they punched and poked it. They didn’t cut it open, however. We spent the night in Kobe and after supper went shopping. Fascinating little shops! They don’t have department stores; one shop carries silks, another ginghams, another umbrellas, and so on. It would take a long time to shop if one wanted a variety of things. The rest of our trip was a day’s journey through Japan, a night crossing the straits, another day’s journey through Korea. My traveling companions, Dr. and Mrs. Reynolds and Miss Bernhardt from Concord, left me about three hours before I reached Kwangju, and I was the only “foreigner” in a car full of Koreans and Japanese. They certainly looked me over carefully. Once the conductor stopped and bent over the arm of my seat, hands on knees, peering at something. I felt queer, but sat tight, and finally found that he was only examining my wrist watch.
I was met at Shoteri, about 10 miles from Kwangju, by Miss Ella Graham from near Salisbury, N.C., and Mr. and Mrs. Paisley (Texans). We “Forded” the ten miles and I found Kwangju a very pretty place, of about 16,000 inhabitants. The compound where missionaries (only) live is about a mile from town. There are 10 houses, a foreign chapel, and the foreign school built together and the hospital that make up the community. I forgot to include the girls’ school. I live in the “Single Ladies Home,” which is attached to the girls’ school.
The Koreans do not call us old maids or “spinsters,” but “Saxies,” and will walk miles to see one! Such respect naturally appeals to us.
The rice crop is poor, on account of the dry summer, and those who are familiar with the situation predict much suffering among the Koreans this winter. A few days after my arrival, I noticed prolonged cries as of children in distress, and found later that it was the Korean children yelling at the birds to keep them away from the rice. They have little improvised shelters in the fields and stand under the all day long shouting like mad.
Even missionaries who have been here look forward to American mail, so you can imagine how a “raw recruit” feels. A hint to the wise is sufficient.
With my best wishes to all.
Flora McQueen
From the front page of The Southern Pines Pilot, Friday, Nov. 28, 1924.
newspapers.digitalnc.org/lccn/sn92073968/1924-11-28/ed-1/seq-8/
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