63) Umtali Boys High School
The move to town made a big difference in our way of life. Being close to the school we were able to get more involved with the staff and the pupils. It was a good school with a fine reputation and a lot of tradition.
Many of the boys who were borders came from the farming community in the Eastern Districts of Manicaland. Most of their farms were close to the border with Mozambique and they had first hand experience of the terrorist war. Simon and his younger brother Anthony had lost their father in an attack on their farm in Chipinga. One of Dominic’s classmates a young lad called Angus Alexander, told us how his house in Pennalonga had been attacked. He and his family were all in bed at the time and were very fortunate not to have been killed. We visited the Alexanders home and saw the bullet marks still in the walls.
One of the boys who was not a farmer’s son was a lad called Bruce. He was Scottish and had bright red hair. When he first arrived his Scottish accents was so strong that none of the boys understood a word he said. He said, “Lets goo doon to the brook and see the coos” None of the other boys knew what he wanted, though he repeated himself over and over. Eventually someone worked out that he meant, “Let’s go down to the stream and see the cows”. But he did learn to speak “English” and was a popular lad. Sadly he died in a car accident not long after he left school.
Another lad we saw a lot of was Eddy Viljoun. Eddy was a nice looking boy but he was a little on the short side. I suppose the other boys teased him about it as he used to tell us (we were all pretty short too) that if we wanted to be tall we should have a huge electric shock. He was sure this was the answer as his uncle had had a shock when working on an overhead power line and he was the only tall one in the family. Eddy was sure that it would work but he was not keen to give it a try. (Neither were we)
The boys liked to give each other nicknames. One lad was called “Hereford” because his family bred prize Hereford cattle. Dominic’s friend Angus was called “Goose” and so his mother became “Mother Goose”. One lad was called “Funky” goodness only knows why. There was a lad called “Fish” and I often wondered why they called him that. I asked once and was told, “because that is his name” and so it was. His surname was really Fish and it was not a nickname at all.
One of the teachers was Mr. Atkins. The boys called him “At the cat”. He was one of the housemasters in the hostel and they said that he was as quiet as a cat when he was on duty and so was able to catch the boys who had sneaked out after supper. He was a keen sailor and would take the boys out to Lake Alexandra to Sailing Club. They would all pile into his half-ton pick up and have a great time on the lake. He was one of the sports masters too and was very keen on hockey. Most of the boys preferred rugby but he got them interested in hockey and they learnt to enjoy that too. I remember once sitting talking to him during a hockey match and saying something to the effect that I was pleased that they were playing hockey because rugby was so rough and dangerous. He replied that he did not think that hockey was any less dangerous. He thought that the sticks made it a particularly risky sport. We went on to discuss how accidents could happen and he told me of quite a few incidents of really horrific accidents on and off the hockey field. Also when he was at university, his hostel and the next-door hostel had an annual fireworks fight. At the end of the year they would both buy as many fire works as they could afford and they would throw them at each other and fire the rockets at each other’s hostels. One of the students was lying on his back on the roof taking photos of the rockets as they went over his head. He lowered the camera from his eye for a moment and at that exact moment a rocket fell and went right into his eye. He lost the sight in his eye completely. I am sure that he only told me the story to illustrate the point that accidents could happen anywhere. I said “I was only worried about rugby when this conversation started, but now I am also worried about hockey, and fireworks and a dozen other things too. Maybe I should not have sat with you”
When Jonathan had first started at Umtali Boys his maths teacher called out his name and said “Jonathan Crowther, I was at school with a boy called Jonathan Crowther and you look just like him, it must be your Dad. Ask your father if he went to school with a girl called Wendy Mizon” Jonny remembered Wendy from his school days. That had been many miles away and many years ago. It really is a small world. She was an excellent teacher and helped Jonathan a great deal with his maths.
If you have been following my story for a while you might remember that way back in article No 49 I told how Jonathan and Dominic had gone into the bee keeping business. It had not really prospered, but we had taken all the equipment with us when we had moved. Sometimes for no apparent reason the bees would just move away and once we found that there was an infestation of moths in the hive that was killing off the bees. When we moved to Moffat Street Jonathan and Dominic thought that they would like to try again. Mr Atkins told them about a swarm of bees somewhere in the school grounds and Jonny and the boys took a catch box and set it up near them. Once the bees had settled into the box they were moved into their hive and later the swarm produced the one and only crop of honey that they ever had. They borrowed an extractor from someone. It was interesting and very satisfying to extract the honey and to bottle it and have a row of the lovely amber jars on the shelf in the pantry.
One afternoon while Jonathan and Dominic were doing homework at the kitchen table and I was busy in the kitchen and a group of boys from the High school came in. They were on their way into town and came to ask Jonathan if he would give them a lift. Jonathan just looked up from his work and said “No”. They accepted the answer and off they went. I was amazed. I don’t think I have ever said a straight “No” to anyone. I don’t always say, “Yes” but I usually make some excuse – ‘I’m so sorry I just can’t do it now, I am too busy at the moment’ or ‘I don’t have enough petrol’ or some other weak excuse. But Jonathan just said “No”. No excuses, no apology just a straight “No” I was very impressed.
Many of the boys who were borders came from the farming community in the Eastern Districts of Manicaland. Most of their farms were close to the border with Mozambique and they had first hand experience of the terrorist war. Simon and his younger brother Anthony had lost their father in an attack on their farm in Chipinga. One of Dominic’s classmates a young lad called Angus Alexander, told us how his house in Pennalonga had been attacked. He and his family were all in bed at the time and were very fortunate not to have been killed. We visited the Alexanders home and saw the bullet marks still in the walls.
One of the boys who was not a farmer’s son was a lad called Bruce. He was Scottish and had bright red hair. When he first arrived his Scottish accents was so strong that none of the boys understood a word he said. He said, “Lets goo doon to the brook and see the coos” None of the other boys knew what he wanted, though he repeated himself over and over. Eventually someone worked out that he meant, “Let’s go down to the stream and see the cows”. But he did learn to speak “English” and was a popular lad. Sadly he died in a car accident not long after he left school.
Another lad we saw a lot of was Eddy Viljoun. Eddy was a nice looking boy but he was a little on the short side. I suppose the other boys teased him about it as he used to tell us (we were all pretty short too) that if we wanted to be tall we should have a huge electric shock. He was sure this was the answer as his uncle had had a shock when working on an overhead power line and he was the only tall one in the family. Eddy was sure that it would work but he was not keen to give it a try. (Neither were we)
The boys liked to give each other nicknames. One lad was called “Hereford” because his family bred prize Hereford cattle. Dominic’s friend Angus was called “Goose” and so his mother became “Mother Goose”. One lad was called “Funky” goodness only knows why. There was a lad called “Fish” and I often wondered why they called him that. I asked once and was told, “because that is his name” and so it was. His surname was really Fish and it was not a nickname at all.
One of the teachers was Mr. Atkins. The boys called him “At the cat”. He was one of the housemasters in the hostel and they said that he was as quiet as a cat when he was on duty and so was able to catch the boys who had sneaked out after supper. He was a keen sailor and would take the boys out to Lake Alexandra to Sailing Club. They would all pile into his half-ton pick up and have a great time on the lake. He was one of the sports masters too and was very keen on hockey. Most of the boys preferred rugby but he got them interested in hockey and they learnt to enjoy that too. I remember once sitting talking to him during a hockey match and saying something to the effect that I was pleased that they were playing hockey because rugby was so rough and dangerous. He replied that he did not think that hockey was any less dangerous. He thought that the sticks made it a particularly risky sport. We went on to discuss how accidents could happen and he told me of quite a few incidents of really horrific accidents on and off the hockey field. Also when he was at university, his hostel and the next-door hostel had an annual fireworks fight. At the end of the year they would both buy as many fire works as they could afford and they would throw them at each other and fire the rockets at each other’s hostels. One of the students was lying on his back on the roof taking photos of the rockets as they went over his head. He lowered the camera from his eye for a moment and at that exact moment a rocket fell and went right into his eye. He lost the sight in his eye completely. I am sure that he only told me the story to illustrate the point that accidents could happen anywhere. I said “I was only worried about rugby when this conversation started, but now I am also worried about hockey, and fireworks and a dozen other things too. Maybe I should not have sat with you”
When Jonathan had first started at Umtali Boys his maths teacher called out his name and said “Jonathan Crowther, I was at school with a boy called Jonathan Crowther and you look just like him, it must be your Dad. Ask your father if he went to school with a girl called Wendy Mizon” Jonny remembered Wendy from his school days. That had been many miles away and many years ago. It really is a small world. She was an excellent teacher and helped Jonathan a great deal with his maths.
If you have been following my story for a while you might remember that way back in article No 49 I told how Jonathan and Dominic had gone into the bee keeping business. It had not really prospered, but we had taken all the equipment with us when we had moved. Sometimes for no apparent reason the bees would just move away and once we found that there was an infestation of moths in the hive that was killing off the bees. When we moved to Moffat Street Jonathan and Dominic thought that they would like to try again. Mr Atkins told them about a swarm of bees somewhere in the school grounds and Jonny and the boys took a catch box and set it up near them. Once the bees had settled into the box they were moved into their hive and later the swarm produced the one and only crop of honey that they ever had. They borrowed an extractor from someone. It was interesting and very satisfying to extract the honey and to bottle it and have a row of the lovely amber jars on the shelf in the pantry.
One afternoon while Jonathan and Dominic were doing homework at the kitchen table and I was busy in the kitchen and a group of boys from the High school came in. They were on their way into town and came to ask Jonathan if he would give them a lift. Jonathan just looked up from his work and said “No”. They accepted the answer and off they went. I was amazed. I don’t think I have ever said a straight “No” to anyone. I don’t always say, “Yes” but I usually make some excuse – ‘I’m so sorry I just can’t do it now, I am too busy at the moment’ or ‘I don’t have enough petrol’ or some other weak excuse. But Jonathan just said “No”. No excuses, no apology just a straight “No” I was very impressed.
Jonathan and Dominic in the Lounge of the Moffat St House
The skyline of Umtali was dominated by a huge floodlit cross. My reference book reminds me that it was 9.8 m high. It was erected by a Colonel Methuen in honour of the African soldiers who fell in World War 1. During the terrorist war the floodlights had been turned off, as the cross was an easy marker, to show the terrorists exactly where Umtali was. My book also says, “the hill on which it stands is called Cross Kopie (small hill) but it had originally been called Baboon Kopie and that baboons are still a common sight. It is not easily accessible.” I obviously had not read the book at the time as we decided to go for a walk up Cross Kopie. The boys were keen too but Jonny was busy doing something in his workshop and decided not to come. We took the dogs and drove to the bottom of the Kopie and started the walk up. At first it was an easy walk but it got steeper and more difficult as we went higher. The dogs were enjoying their outing, running back and for, doing as usual twice the mileage we did. When we got to the top we saw that the cross actually stood on a separate rock and to get right up to it we had to take a small jump, more like a large step over a gap of almost a meter. There was not a very deep gap between the two rocks. We did not think much about it, we all did it and sat for a while enjoying the view and pointing out landmarks in the town below. As it was getting a little late we did not stay too long but hopped back over the small ravine and started down the hill. We all went over and Cindy went over but Rocky, who had just jumped on to the rock would not jump the other way. We called him and coaxed him, but he would not come, he just stood there and barked at us. We were sure that he would not like to be left there alone and was bound to follow us if we went on without him. We walked on until we were out of his sight and called him again and again but still he would not come. He just barked louder and louder and I thought that the whole town must be able to hear him. We went back up again and tried putting his lead on him and tugging but he would not jump and we were concerned that if we pulled and he slipped into the ravine he would get hurt. Once again we tried to leave him and to get him to follow us. This time we decided that we needed Jonny to help us and thought we would leave Rocky there and go home and get Jonny. When we got back to the car Jonathan decided that he could not leave his dog all alone so he was going back up to stay with Rocky while Dominic and I went for Jonny. By the time we got home it was beginning to get dark and so we explained to Jonny what had happened and asked him to come and help. We collected what Jonny thought might be useful in this emergency (Torch, rope and a plank to go across the gap) and headed off once more to Cross Kopie. It really was dark going back up the hill, the floodlight had been switched on and we could see Rocky and Jonathan lit up and their shadows on the cross. They could be seen from all over Umtali. When we were about half way up Rocky heard us and started barking again. Jonny tried to call the dog to him when we got to the top but he would not come. So we laid the plank that we had brought across the gap and called again. Rocky had no wish to walk the plank so that did not work either. Jonny walked across the plank and tried to get Rocky to come back with him but he put on brakes and would not move. Finally Jonny had to sit astride the plank, pick Rocky, who must have weighed at least 40 kgs, up in his arms and slide and shuffle across the gap. When they got to the other side Jonny put Rocky down and he was off like a shot from a cannon. I had never seen him run so fast, he went down the hill so fast that I think his back legs were overtaking his front legs. A couple of times he lost his footing rolled down a little way, picked himself up and was off again as fast as he could go. We were worried that he would get badly hurt. He got to the car and just sat and waited for us there. He did not run back and forth anymore like he usually did when we were far behind him. I wonder what the people of Umtali thought if they looked out of their windows and up to the cross on the kopie. It would have looked very odd to see a dog silhouetted on the cross.
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