Getting used to the English - Pasta Shuta - strict schooling.
Wednesday 30th September, 2009-09-30
My dear Jeremy,
Memories of Kitwe flood into my head but I can't always remember them in sequence, but perhaps this will be sorted out when I go through Dad's papers of which there are many
Michael was now a member of Her Majesty's Overseas Civil Service. There is a large book called Standing Orders which will be interesting to look into one day. I think we easily adjusted to the English people with whom we worked and lived but I often wondered what they thought of us South Africans. Our immediate colleagues were friendly and helpful but there was a certain snobbery in the service and class distinction - public school and all that. I once overheard two young wives introduce themselves through their husbands public schools. I could not believe what I was hearing. This did not affect our daily lives. We made friends quite easily.
Through the Buckmasters we met the Humbles, Peter and Nina and their three daughters, Allison, Christine and Judy. They had met in the Eastern Province at Fort Jameson, affectionately known as Fort Jimmy. Peter was in administration, their offices were known as the Boma. He was an accountant and had a great sense of humour, but not always savoury! I suspected as he would say things under his breath to Michael who was not one for rude jokes. Michael would grin in an embarrassed way and look decidedly uncomfortable. But I think he got used to Peter in the end.
In those days my party dish was Pasta Shuter (not sure of the spelling) [see below] which Michael introduced from Italy. It is rather like Spaghetti Bolognese only the ingredients are all mixed up together and sprinkled with cheese. On one occasion Peter came into our house very troubled and told us that a certain pastor was missing from Mindola had we seen him his name was "Pastor Shuter". The Humble girls loved Christopher and Judy and Jill became great friends. They often visited us or we visited them in Kitwe. Once Christopher hid away when they came. He complained that they always took out all his toys and never helped to pack them back again. He did not escape for long before he was found.
The Mission Station also had a school which was quite new for girls. There were not many schools for girls then and I think this was one of the first if not the first. It was a boarding school and the girls came in from the surrounding villages. They needed a teacher and I was asked to help out until one was appointed. It was part-time so Jill went to a Nursery School at the Convent in Kitwe. She did not like that at all and was happy when a replacement teacher was appointed.
I enjoyed the teaching and of course there were no disciplinary problems as the girls were very respectful. I had to get used to them kneeling when they came up to my table or when I sat in their desk to show them something as it was impolite to stand higher than an adult.
One lesson I recall was when the Governor of Northern Rhodesia came to visit. It was a spelling lesson with the class divided into four by the rows of desks. I would call out a word and the girls in turn had to dash up to the blackboard and write down the correct spelling and the first one right scored a point. It was exciting and the girls responded to the game. I don't suppose the Governor had ever witnessed a lesson like that before, he never said, but the girls enjoyed it and weren't too overawed by the important guests.
One day Christopher came into the house looking very pale and with that look on his face when you know something is wrong. "My arm is sore I fell out of the mango tree", he said. Fortunately it was only a greenstick fracture which soon mended.
On the staff of the college were also African members. They belonged to the Bemba tribe. They lived in smaller houses across the field from us. One of the problems they had was when parents came to visit. If they took a liking to their possessions they would just take it. There was the case of the father who took back to the village a small radio even though there was no electricity in his village.
Christopher and John joined a cub group which was run by the Anglican priest in Kitwe. I remember they went on a camp in the bush and we joined them for a campfire evening and Susan Buckmaster came too. There is a photograph to prove it.
Love you, Mum