It is Holy Saturday 2017 and I have realised that not much writing has been going on! I am beginning to see that this story may have its difficult aspects. I have certainly had some disappointments amidst much love and joy and it will not be easy to recount them. Good Friday always bring back memories both of home and the dreadful end of 19 years at Our Lady of the Annunciation, Addiscombe and since then the sad end of much at Westminster cathedral. Strange that the Reproaches should have been the bone of contention! Or perhaps not! Being a Christian was never going to be easy.
I am now nearing recounting the departure from South Africa.I have tried to convey what my world was like. I was certainly somewhat naive and I needed to have my eyes opened. I was also obsessed with London and England reading the Listener every week from cover to cover and listening to BBC World service and seeing many films especially Ealing comedies. In fact I once spoke at a pre-Prom talk describing England as a golden land whereas in fact the 50s were pretty grim. The 70s saw much racism and discrimination. I was shocked by the comments I heard in the staff room in England - we would never have spoken like that in Johannesburg. Yes Afrikaans people might be overtly racist but it as rare to hear English speaking people be so racist. Well at least in the circles where I worked. In fact South Africans are usually very polite.
I did not want this story to be a diary or a travel log but I am afraid the blog format tends to make it like that!
Leaving home was a major step which had been well-planned. Mum always said she kicked me out of the nest. I doubt if I would have become the man I am now if I had stayed in Johannesburg. I would probably have been a bachelor bringing washing home every Sunday! I knew very little about cooking and had been brought up on English roast dinners so how would I survive! I quickly learnt that what mattered was where you were sleeping and where you would eat. Sight-seeing came second exciting as it was! Ann was under strict instructions not to cry at the airport as I knew I would struggle not to cry myself! Harriet was in tears when I left. I know Dad really missed me at church and at home. But I knew I was doing the right thing. I had saved up living at home while at university and in the library for 3 years and I told the immigration people I had enough money to come home. I knew I had no intention of doing so. I also had a British passport and in fact let my South African one lapse. I was a dual citizen having arrived in 1947. I promised to write every week (as Dad did to York) and I kept my promise sending movies and tapes as well as letters.
I am now nearing recounting the departure from South Africa.I have tried to convey what my world was like. I was certainly somewhat naive and I needed to have my eyes opened. I was also obsessed with London and England reading the Listener every week from cover to cover and listening to BBC World service and seeing many films especially Ealing comedies. In fact I once spoke at a pre-Prom talk describing England as a golden land whereas in fact the 50s were pretty grim. The 70s saw much racism and discrimination. I was shocked by the comments I heard in the staff room in England - we would never have spoken like that in Johannesburg. Yes Afrikaans people might be overtly racist but it as rare to hear English speaking people be so racist. Well at least in the circles where I worked. In fact South Africans are usually very polite.
I did not want this story to be a diary or a travel log but I am afraid the blog format tends to make it like that!
Leaving home was a major step which had been well-planned. Mum always said she kicked me out of the nest. I doubt if I would have become the man I am now if I had stayed in Johannesburg. I would probably have been a bachelor bringing washing home every Sunday! I knew very little about cooking and had been brought up on English roast dinners so how would I survive! I quickly learnt that what mattered was where you were sleeping and where you would eat. Sight-seeing came second exciting as it was! Ann was under strict instructions not to cry at the airport as I knew I would struggle not to cry myself! Harriet was in tears when I left. I know Dad really missed me at church and at home. But I knew I was doing the right thing. I had saved up living at home while at university and in the library for 3 years and I told the immigration people I had enough money to come home. I knew I had no intention of doing so. I also had a British passport and in fact let my South African one lapse. I was a dual citizen having arrived in 1947. I promised to write every week (as Dad did to York) and I kept my promise sending movies and tapes as well as letters.
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