< 1960. Esslemont Brothers, Durban. We holidayed at Elandspruit farm, where us kids swam in the dam. We looked at pigs and fowls, and collected eggs. We helped aunty Esme in her garden. We dried squash, pumpkins and onions in the stone cool-room. At the dairy, we watched uncle Chum bossing Zulu umfaans and men hand-milking Jersey cows. The bull had a brass ring through its wet nose. We fed pails of milk to calves, which sucked our milky fingers. We turned a separator handle, then stored milk, cream and butter in an old paraffin fueled fridge. We scoffed apartheid amasi with breakfast cereal. After meals, aunty Esme called her Zulu maid, "Letha iteye Intombi!" Intombi brought tea for us. Aunty Esme then placed a big bowl of milk for her cats outside the kitchen door, and called, "Kitty!-Kitty!-Kitty!..."
Sometimes, a mad munt stripped off his tatty clothes, doing a Zulu war dance, stamping his coarse feet in dung, his penis eeling sideways. Zulus grabbed him, dressed him, and led him raving back to his wattle-an'-daub thatched rondavel.
Shannon and I helped munts load mealies from fields into a trailer. In a silo we pelted each other with sugary silage. We collected mielie-cobs from the barn, and stored stove-fuel cobs in a shed outside aunty Esme's kitchen. We wrestled in an itchy haystack. In a shed, we climbed onto an old, red tractor, and talked on and old, wooden wagon.
We played hide-an'-seek in the barn. At night we shone torchlight into rats' red eyes in the barn roof, and watched uncle Chum shoot rats. We scraped our muddy feet on a metal scraper by the door, near agapanthus blooms.
Mom said to aunty Esme, "Siobahn's a domineering sponger with an Irish temper!" Aunty Esme smiled.
Back in Durban, Rosie cackled, "Maram! I 'ave allis extra bread-buying from Bakers Bread lorry, an' bunny-chow cooking! Terrible t'ing! Aai-yai-yai-yai-yaaai!"
We holidayed at aunt Dorothy's Bloemfontein home. "Yoiks! Get that Irish woman out of your house!" hissed aunt Dorothy, while soothing her nerves, raking gravel paths around her house. "Crunch-crunch..." was a good burglar alarm.
Near the Basutoland border, we visited uncle Lesley's Clarens farm. We saw Mushroom Rock on a red cave-sandstone cliff-top, amidst Golden Gate koppies. Uncle Lesley's sunburnt hands were crippled with rheumatoid arthritis. He showed us Bushman paintings in caves - from Bushmen to blogs ne? He showed us his collection of Bushman stone thumbnail-cutters, axeheads, circular digging-stones with a hole in the middle for a sharpened digging-stick, grindstones, ostrich egg shells with a hole in the top for water storage.
Basutho owned cattle and goats overgrazed slopes, causing donga erosion in steep Malutis. We holidayed at Caledon Poort Christian guest farm near the Caledon River, where Shannon and I swam in the sepia Caledon, threw mud, collected jasper, agate and moss-agate from the riverbed. We played tennis, rode horses, swam in the pool, and climbed eastern Free State flat-topped koppies. We played Monopoly, Scrabble, ping-pong, cards, and watched thunderstorms over the Malutis: "Boomalakkawa!..."
We holidayed at Southport MOTH beach-cottages, as dad was a former soldier. Shannon and I picked red num-nums from spiny bushes, and sucked tart sweetness. We put coins on the railway-line, and watched steam-trains squashing them.
While changing in a cottage, when Shannon wriggled into her Speedo, I checked her cherry. She checked my knob. While crossing the railway-line, Shannon and I held hands. I smaaked her moist palms. We walked under whispering casaurina trees and clattering banana trees. We scoffed bananas under silver-oaks, while sand burnt our feet.
We swam in rock pools and Southport beach-pool, then lying on our towels we caught a tan. Shannon lowered her Speedo top, so her flat titties caught a freckled tan. We folded our towels into points, dipping the tips into water, then we flicked our legs, leaving red wheals. Wind blew stinging sand, which dried on our skins. We looked for cowrie shells and seaweed, and popped bluebottles on the shore. Our eyes were bluebottle blue.
Back home, mom told Siobahn to leave, and was enraged when Siobahn said, "You're a sucker!"
I was glad to return to my porch, as an oil painting had hung there all my life: a mouse swam around in a bowl of cats' cream, with six hungry cats looking on. Fraser and mom slept in their own bedrooms. Toby returned to the kitchen. Rosie cackled, "Aai-yai-yai- yai-yaaai!..."
Ndlovu's and "boys'" families lived in Zululand. After school, it was scary sneaking past out-of-bounds Ndlovu's school khaya, as khaya walls and ceilings were blackened by soot from cooking fires on concrete floors. Electric bulbs hung broken and flyblown. Sour stench of urine, stale putu, munt-sweat hit my nostrils.
From my porch window in our Chelsea Drive dip home, I could see Brooklands Crescent; flower seller Mrs. Porteous's flower-plot; and the spire of St. Martins Anglican Church. Late at night, I pissed through burglar-guards into hydrangeas. If I strained hard, aiming for St. Martin's steeple. I could reach our couch-grass lawn.
1961. Mark Esslemont, standard 3, Durban North Primary. (Mumby)
4 comments:
Had an email exchange with a Durban Curator for Local History Museums about using my Durban North Primary pic for an exhibition.
Email exchange with David Richardson from USA:
David: My name is Dave. At 4 yrs old (1945), left Durban for New Hanover. My folks had purchased the Railway Hotel in New Hanover. Attended the New Hanover govt aided school. Knew Peter Wolhuter, the Bentley tribe, the Greys and other farming families.
1951 moved back to Durban and was at Northlands coed. Was part of the group of boys that marched to the new Kensington Drive Northlands Boys High. Graduated in 1958 and went to the Airforce Gym. Was involved in aviation and have lived and worked in about 25 or more countries. Now a doddering 80 yr old retiree living in USA. Wonderful memories.
Mark: I'm 71 this year, went to NBHS (McFarquhar headmaster) now living at Pleasant Point, NZ. I taught for 18 years: Durban, Kleinzee, QwaQwa, East London, interspersed with 3 years' personnel for DeBeers Kleinzee & Koffiefontein mines. I was conscripted, Danie Theron Combat School, Kimberley, then Durban North Command, "holiday camps" in KZN, 1970s. I also lived & worked in UK & Israel, 1981-82. On Facebook, I keep up with Rodney Wolhuter, Peter Wolhuter's son. Rodney now lives in Australia.
Emails continued with David Richardson:
David: I came across your blog while searching for articles on Northlands. The reason for my search is that I have been working on preserving my memories... Important for me, not for others. If our memories are discarded and lost, there is a danger we will forget who we are, forget what makes us tick. So attached is a list of videos that I have put together for me. I share them with you because I have a suspicion that you may think the same... [7 videos attached].
Mark: Appreciated. Memories are important, taking huge effort to record, keeps me ticking. In my Woza Wanderer blog, I'm presently updating the quake years, 2010-2013, we survived during Christchurch, NZ quakes...
I watched your videos in one sitting, you hooked me from the start, memories of Pietermaritzburg & Durban flooding back. Chum Wolhuter (Peter's dad) had a mixed farm, Elandspruit, 5 miles from New Hanover off the dirt road en route to Greytown by Sugarloaf Hill. The Wolhuters farmed Jersey cattle, chickens, pigs, crops like mielies & pumpkins & of course wattle & gum tees for wattle tannins and gum mine props. I have happy memories of Easter farm holidays at Elandspruit. Chum's wife Esme, nee Green & mom were primary schooled at Ladysmith cc 1919 just after WW1. Peter Wolhuter's siblings were older sister Wendy & younger brother Neil, both went to New Hanover School. Mom even contemplated teaching at New Hanover School in the 1960s, but gave up the idea, as it would've been too disruptive moving me & my younger brother from secure Durban North.
Early 60's, we had a couple of free holidays at Hibberdene, as mom supervised groups of orphan kids on holidays at a hostel near the beach.
1964: At Northlands BH, Pop Garner was my std 6 class teacher too. I saw your senior class blazer had full colours strips. I was awarded half colours twice for acting, 1967 & 1968 my matric year.
I had a recent cochlear implant in Christchurch NZ, as I became profoundly deaf over 40 years. I clearly heard your video narration on my pc. Good on you...
More emails with David Richardson:
David: ... The Gray (Grey) family - the honey people - were neighbours of the Wolhuters. We used to ride our bikes down that road to spend weekends with the Perfects on the farm Blinkwater. We would hike to the top of the Blinkwater.
...Nothing could be more rural than York... There was a circle of houses and yes, the church. York was the centre of things in the early 1900's. New Hanover was a dusty nothing place. When the Pmb - Greytown railway line was proposed, York was on the proposed route. The Yorkers would have none of it. "No stinking noisy trains in our pristine community". So the line was routed through New Hanover, and the rest is history... In the 1950's there was nothing but mile after mile of wattle plantations, Schroeders, a tiny village about 2 miles from New Hanover was the home of the Comec Mimosa Wattle Extract Company. They processed the wattle bark for export. Everything is derelict these days. So sad, but the memories are still there...
Thanks for triggering all those sugar cane memories.
Mark: ...Durban North was covered in sugar cane ash during intermittent sugar cane fires in the 1960s.
York was dead during our intermittent 1950s-1960s church attendances, as the houses were gone by then, just the church left. York church was the nearest church to the Wolhuter's farm & a circuit priest occasionally visited to preach.
Annie & Martin Grey were in farm partnership with the Wolhuters. Chum Wolhuter did most of the combined farm work like shooting mielie-thieving baboons, castrating young boars, mowing & building hay stacks, planting mielies & cutting mielie silage for cattle feed, extracting & storing mielie grain & cobs in farm sheds & leading Zulu men to cut wattle bark off felled wattle trees to send to the wattle extract factory you mentioned. Esme Wolhuter supervised Zulu staff in the egg laying, chicken battery sheds.
Martin Grey liked the prize Jersey cow herd & he supervised Zulu workmen, hand-milking cattle in his dairy shed at dawn & dusk. Near the Grey's farm house, as boys we were warned to avoid the Jersey bull paddock, as the bull was dangerous. We were also warned to avoid the bee hives.
The Wolhuter's farmhouse was named Fircroft. During Easter holidays, as a teenager I learnt to drive mom's brown Mini on Elandspruit farm roads. Happy days. When Esme & Chum retired their son Peter took over farming Elandspruit. Now Elandspruit is farmed by Peter's son Terry. Wolhuters were all expert at operating, driving & repairing various farm machines & vehicles. All spoke fluent Zulu & English.
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