57) Peter
While things were going along well at the store things at the house were not so good. The servant we had brought with us from Salisbury along with a local lad we had employed to work in the garden were caught red handed stealing petrol. We never could figure out why as neither of them owned a car. We just dismissed the local lad but we could not do that to the Salisbury lad so Jonny had to load all his belongings on to the Land Rover and trailer to take him to town where he bought him a rail ticket to Salisbury and sent him on his way.
Now came the problem of the stove. Jonny would get the fire lit in the morning before he went out to work and put a lot of wood on it to try and keep it alight until lunch time when I got back from work but for the most part it had gone out by then and our water would be cold. I really battled with it, I just could not get it lit and even when it was lit I could not get it hot enough. I asked many of people for advice on how to manage a wood stove and got mostly the same reaction from them all. “A wood stove, how lucky you are, my mother/ grandmother/ aunt/cousin/ friend had one and it was marvellous, they baked the most wonderful bread, they had huge amounts of hot water and the house was always warm and welcoming” But if I asked any of them if they knew how to control or use a wood stove “No not me, never used one in my life, just my mother/ grandmother/ aunt/ cousin/ friend”.
After a while with not much hot water and no hot meals we decided that the best thing I could do was to find a servant who knew how to use a wood stove. So off I went to Umtali to the local employment bureau. I told them I was looking for a house servant with experience of a wood stove. I was not looking for a cook, just someone who could clean the house and keep the fire going in the stove. The lady went off and come back with Peter. He was well spoken and neatly dressed. He assured me that he knew all about wood stoves and was also a good cook. He could also clean the house and do the laundry. Well what else could one do when offered such a paragon, I hired him on the spot and as he had his luggage with him we got into the car and drove home straight away.
Peter turned out to be a good plain cook and it was a real luxury to come back from work to a warm meal, hot water for a bath and a lovely warm kitchen. And could Peter get that stove hot? Some times I would go into the kitchen and find that the hob was so hot, I thought it would melt. Peter was quite a character, he was not married and lived with his “Mammy”, when he went home for a weekend he would often bring me a gift from his Mammy, usually fruit or vegetables from her garden. He was hard working and I was very pleased with my treasure.
One evening we had invited our neighbours Jim and Colleen Taylor for supper and on that day we were having trouble getting any heat out of the stove. It just would not heat up, Peter did all he could but it only produced a mild heat and tons of smoke. I remember I made a lasagne, and then I made the dessert and asked Peter to set the table for me as I was going to have a shower. He said “Yes Madam, I think that is a very good idea before your friends come, because you smell.” I admit to being a little taken aback at that remark but soon realised that he was right I smelt terribly of smoke but I don’t know of any other employer who has been told by her servant that she smelt. It is usually done the other way round. That evening Colleen told me how to clean the chimney of the wood stove which we did and so we did not have the same trouble again.
Peter loved to cook and so when the boys were home for the weekend and got up at odd hours he was always happy to leave what he was doing and make breakfast for them. He would just have finished feeding one of them and the other would get up and he would start the whole thing over again. They could ask for what every they liked and provided that I had the ingredients in the cupboard he would make it for them.
Alas all good things come to an end after about six months or so we started missing spirits from the drinks cupboard and Peter’s work was beginning to suffer. Jonny spoke to him about it and he said that he wanted to leave and go home to his village so we had to let him go. We were sorry to see him go but he obviously had a problem that we could do nothing about.
At the end of October Anne and Dennis came home and Lorna and I finished at the store. It had been hard work but we had enjoyed it but now it was time for me to try and get my house and garden into some sort of shape. The lounge and dinning room had large wood and glass doors that opened onto the veranda. The wood had been neglected so I set about rubbing them down with linseed oil; one of those jobs that you wish you had never started. The dry wood just soaked up the oil and it was ages before I got them looking good. I remember I was working on them one afternoon and there was a terrible thunder and lightening storm. Jonny arrived home midafternoon with three of his workers. He told me that they had been working in a pine plantation not far away when the storm started and one of the workers was under a tree that was struck by lightening. He was in a bad way and would I take him to the hospital in Umtali. I was not sure where the hospital was so he said that one of the other workers could come with me to show me the way. Not to be left out the other one decided that he wanted to come too. We put the seats down in the station wagon, got some blankets and pillows and loaded the injured man in. The storm was still raging, the rain was heavy and the wind was wild. Because of the altitude of the Vumba when it rained we were always in the low clouds so it was very difficult to follow the road. I tried to go as fast as I could as I was worried that the man in the back of the car was going to die but the road was steep and wound its way down the hill into the valley where Umtali was. With four people in the car the windows started to mist up so I would open the window a little so that I could see through the windscreen and the wind would blow onto the patient in the back and he would moan pitifully, his friend who was with him in the back asked me to please close the window as it was cold and they were getting wet. So I would close the window for a little while but then the windows would mist up again and I would have to open them until the patient started moaning again. Umtali is only about 25Km away but it seemed like a lot more on that afternoon. Trying to go as fast as I could down a steep, twisting road, through the rain clouds, with the wind blowing a gale and the thunder and lightening all around us. With a man I thought was about to die and two others who seemed rather unconcerned about the whole thing. I was glad when we pulled up outside the hospital and porters were called to bring a trolley to take the patient in to be examined by a doctor. I spoke to the lady at the reception and told her that the man worked for us and gave her my name and telephone number so that she could get in touch with me if she needed to. As it was now beginning to get dark we just waited until the doctor arrived, he said that he would have to admit the man for observation so there was nothing else we could do so we went home again. Back up that hill in the rain, at least the lightening had stopped but it was getting dark fast and again it was not a nice journey. After about three days we had not heard anything from the hospital so I called up to find out how he was only to be told that he had booked himself out the following morning and had not been seen again. He must have had some wages due to him but he never turned up to collect them. The African people are very suppositious about thunder and lightening so I think he decided that the Vumba was not for him. If he had heard of the saying that lightening never strikes twice in the same place he might have given it a second chance.
Now came the problem of the stove. Jonny would get the fire lit in the morning before he went out to work and put a lot of wood on it to try and keep it alight until lunch time when I got back from work but for the most part it had gone out by then and our water would be cold. I really battled with it, I just could not get it lit and even when it was lit I could not get it hot enough. I asked many of people for advice on how to manage a wood stove and got mostly the same reaction from them all. “A wood stove, how lucky you are, my mother/ grandmother/ aunt/cousin/ friend had one and it was marvellous, they baked the most wonderful bread, they had huge amounts of hot water and the house was always warm and welcoming” But if I asked any of them if they knew how to control or use a wood stove “No not me, never used one in my life, just my mother/ grandmother/ aunt/ cousin/ friend”.
After a while with not much hot water and no hot meals we decided that the best thing I could do was to find a servant who knew how to use a wood stove. So off I went to Umtali to the local employment bureau. I told them I was looking for a house servant with experience of a wood stove. I was not looking for a cook, just someone who could clean the house and keep the fire going in the stove. The lady went off and come back with Peter. He was well spoken and neatly dressed. He assured me that he knew all about wood stoves and was also a good cook. He could also clean the house and do the laundry. Well what else could one do when offered such a paragon, I hired him on the spot and as he had his luggage with him we got into the car and drove home straight away.
Peter turned out to be a good plain cook and it was a real luxury to come back from work to a warm meal, hot water for a bath and a lovely warm kitchen. And could Peter get that stove hot? Some times I would go into the kitchen and find that the hob was so hot, I thought it would melt. Peter was quite a character, he was not married and lived with his “Mammy”, when he went home for a weekend he would often bring me a gift from his Mammy, usually fruit or vegetables from her garden. He was hard working and I was very pleased with my treasure.
One evening we had invited our neighbours Jim and Colleen Taylor for supper and on that day we were having trouble getting any heat out of the stove. It just would not heat up, Peter did all he could but it only produced a mild heat and tons of smoke. I remember I made a lasagne, and then I made the dessert and asked Peter to set the table for me as I was going to have a shower. He said “Yes Madam, I think that is a very good idea before your friends come, because you smell.” I admit to being a little taken aback at that remark but soon realised that he was right I smelt terribly of smoke but I don’t know of any other employer who has been told by her servant that she smelt. It is usually done the other way round. That evening Colleen told me how to clean the chimney of the wood stove which we did and so we did not have the same trouble again.
Peter loved to cook and so when the boys were home for the weekend and got up at odd hours he was always happy to leave what he was doing and make breakfast for them. He would just have finished feeding one of them and the other would get up and he would start the whole thing over again. They could ask for what every they liked and provided that I had the ingredients in the cupboard he would make it for them.
Alas all good things come to an end after about six months or so we started missing spirits from the drinks cupboard and Peter’s work was beginning to suffer. Jonny spoke to him about it and he said that he wanted to leave and go home to his village so we had to let him go. We were sorry to see him go but he obviously had a problem that we could do nothing about.
At the end of October Anne and Dennis came home and Lorna and I finished at the store. It had been hard work but we had enjoyed it but now it was time for me to try and get my house and garden into some sort of shape. The lounge and dinning room had large wood and glass doors that opened onto the veranda. The wood had been neglected so I set about rubbing them down with linseed oil; one of those jobs that you wish you had never started. The dry wood just soaked up the oil and it was ages before I got them looking good. I remember I was working on them one afternoon and there was a terrible thunder and lightening storm. Jonny arrived home midafternoon with three of his workers. He told me that they had been working in a pine plantation not far away when the storm started and one of the workers was under a tree that was struck by lightening. He was in a bad way and would I take him to the hospital in Umtali. I was not sure where the hospital was so he said that one of the other workers could come with me to show me the way. Not to be left out the other one decided that he wanted to come too. We put the seats down in the station wagon, got some blankets and pillows and loaded the injured man in. The storm was still raging, the rain was heavy and the wind was wild. Because of the altitude of the Vumba when it rained we were always in the low clouds so it was very difficult to follow the road. I tried to go as fast as I could as I was worried that the man in the back of the car was going to die but the road was steep and wound its way down the hill into the valley where Umtali was. With four people in the car the windows started to mist up so I would open the window a little so that I could see through the windscreen and the wind would blow onto the patient in the back and he would moan pitifully, his friend who was with him in the back asked me to please close the window as it was cold and they were getting wet. So I would close the window for a little while but then the windows would mist up again and I would have to open them until the patient started moaning again. Umtali is only about 25Km away but it seemed like a lot more on that afternoon. Trying to go as fast as I could down a steep, twisting road, through the rain clouds, with the wind blowing a gale and the thunder and lightening all around us. With a man I thought was about to die and two others who seemed rather unconcerned about the whole thing. I was glad when we pulled up outside the hospital and porters were called to bring a trolley to take the patient in to be examined by a doctor. I spoke to the lady at the reception and told her that the man worked for us and gave her my name and telephone number so that she could get in touch with me if she needed to. As it was now beginning to get dark we just waited until the doctor arrived, he said that he would have to admit the man for observation so there was nothing else we could do so we went home again. Back up that hill in the rain, at least the lightening had stopped but it was getting dark fast and again it was not a nice journey. After about three days we had not heard anything from the hospital so I called up to find out how he was only to be told that he had booked himself out the following morning and had not been seen again. He must have had some wages due to him but he never turned up to collect them. The African people are very suppositious about thunder and lightening so I think he decided that the Vumba was not for him. If he had heard of the saying that lightening never strikes twice in the same place he might have given it a second chance.
posted by JC at
11:54 pm
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home