I was a teacher's nightmare in some classes
and a teacher's gift in other classes. If I enjoyed your subject I would work
my socks off. If I disliked your subject – well let's just say you can lead a
horse to water…
My fifth school was a convent – Maris Stella.
I was there from Standard two to standard five. We had to wait for our bus to
town on the Maris Stella side of the road, only crossing to the Girl's College
side once the bus arrived. That did not stop these two elite schools from hurling
schoolgirl abuse across the road.
"Green Mambas!" shouted our side –
referring to their green uniforms.
"Marie Biscuits!" shouted the
college girls – obviously an extremely clever school girl retort! A play on our
name and our light beige dresses!
As far as I can remember once on the bus –
they kept to themselves and so did we. Our hostility was obviously
uncomfortable at close quarters!
For the first few years at Maris Stella we
stayed in the centre of town. When we first arrived in Durban my dad's firm put him up in a hotel
close to Albert Park. It was a little quiet, residential hotel. It has probably
been taken over by who knows who. I used to walk from the bus in what was West Street to McArthur Street. Quite
safe for an eight year old! Up to our room and then downstairs to bug the
dining room staff. The Indian head waiter took me under his wing and he taught
me how to make a swan (and many other shapes) out of a serviette. Unfortunately
mine never looked like his and it is an art that is lost in the mists of time.
When my parents arrived "home" we
would have dinner and then walk up to West
Street, clean, lively West Street and join the throngs window
shopping up and down. The weekly treat was to visit the Polar Bar and enjoy an
ice cold root beer.
I can't remember how long we stayed there
but we were soon moved to the company's block of flats – CTC buildings. Down a
dingy but safe (except for the HUGE cockroaches that filled it) passageway.
Into a rickety lift to the 6th floor where we found home – a bachelor
flat with an enclosed balcony. The enclosed balcony was my room and my parents
shared the pull out sleeper couch with the lounge and diningroom. The kitchen
had to be the smallest I had ever seen and a tiny bathroom and loo. But you
know what? We were happy!
My dad worked for the OK group who owned
the CTC. So dad's work was about 50 steps away from where he stayed. Mom and I
caught a bus to work and school.
We still went for walks at night window shopping
at Greenacres, the Hub and Stuttafords. When we arrived back at the lane (I
have an idea it was called School Lane)
my father put me off chocolate logs for life as he compared them to the
eviscerated cockroaches in the lane.
Our crowning delight came when dad bought
our first car. A baby Renault. It was the cutest, smallest car around. A bit of
an oddity as the tiny engine was at the back and the boot in the front. I found
two pics on the internet. I'm sure somewhere I have a pic of the little car!
He found a lock up garage near our flat in Pine Street. Our
weekends took on another perspective. Dad used to love to get in the car and
drive. We'd pick up his mother who lived close by and away we would go.
"Where are we going daddy?" I pleaded
and he would say "You'll see when we get there." Half the time I
don't think he knew where we would end up!
No comments:
Post a Comment