Chapter 17 - People at Kulungu

One day when we were sitting on the veranda, a Winamwanga looking man arrived, dropped to his knees with the conventional curtsey clapping his hands, and announced he was 'Spooni...a doctor... and I want a job'. As he had on a tin helmet, knee high rubber boots and a 'blasting' badge pinned to his lapel, I was a bit taken aback at his claiming to be a doctor. I did not expect him to arrive in a morning suit and top hat, but his attire was unconventional in the extreme . 'Well Spooni' I said seriously, 'we have no job for a doctor, but if you go down to the bridge site, the Bwana might have a job to suit you'. Alex was suitably impressed, but at that time was only able to offer Spooni a labourer's job, which he accepted with alacrity, but there was no doubt he was a superior worker having been in Johannesburg for three years on the mines, and he became most useful and dependable and one of our growing 'staff'.

The next was Roderick. He was an elegant young man, good-looking and educated up to Standard 4, which was considered very superior. A clerk was now required to attend to the pay sheets and the many stores, orders and checkings and stackings and countings, and he was employed. Roderick's domestic life was a very complicated one and he was often absent on various court cases and visits to the doctor. I was often used as a go-between for Alex, who was always very occupied at the bridge, while I was usually available at the house.

One day Roderick approached, hat in hand, and requested a hearing . 'Mama, I want to go to the court as a man has charged me with giving his wife a disease of the body'. 'and have you done so ?' I asked 'Oh, no Mama' said Roderick in a horrified voice. 'Well then' said I, the first thing you do is to go to the doctor at the mission and tell him your story and he will send proof that you have not got the disease'. With a little more urging from Alex and a letter to the doctor, the visit was made but fortunately the result was not as I had expected. Roderick and his two wives were clean, the man who charged him had V.D. though his wife had not. One is drawn deep onto the lives of these simple people of the bush and if only numbers of us could understand and speak their language as we live among them, the influence and knowledge we could give them would be to their great advantage, whereas their own people, getting garbled ideas of politics and their own importance, can influence the simpler ones in any way they choose, and often this is only to further their own ends.

There are so many differing languages among so many tribes, that one can never use easily the language of each but is inclined to encourage the African to speak English which they pick up very quickly. I found myself always using very simple words with no subtleties, and most of our servants over the years became very good speakers of English with a Scottish accent!.

One evening when the men had washed and changed after a heavy day's work at the bridge and were spread straight-legged on the camp chairs watching the glory of the sunset, Alex turned to me and said, 'How about going out tonight ?'. 'Alright, let's go to the pictures' I replied, and the children laughed at the idea. We had been content for weeks to work and sleep and in fact were glad to take refuge under our mosquito nets by the tone we had had our evening meal as all kinds of insects would torment us whenever the lamps were lit and many a large, hard insect was retrieved from the soup, though I have no doubt the smaller ones drowned miserably. We never saw a newspaper or heard what was going on in the outside world unless a visitor called to see us - an unusual event but an occasional traveller was curious about our little track in the woods and pulled in. We gave them a cup of tea and caught up on the 'news'.

There was a small Rest House at Tunduma, 30 odd miles North, so we set off for a night out. We felt quite excited at the prospect, and while the men shared a few beers with Mr. Neale who had been blind for many years, I had a gossip with Mrs. Neale, and before leaving had promised to look after the Rest House and her husband while she went 'down the line' to get her teeth out. She had been hoping for the opportunity for some time, but there had been no possible help until I arrived and she had to put her proposition to me without preamble. I was still exploring the possibilities of our new life and was most reluctant to leave, but as Mrs. Neale was so harassed, and showed me where Hilda and I could sleep, and what had to be done, I could hardly refuse and agreed to come back the following Friday when she could arrange to get a lift down the line, which was the popular description of the nearest town to the railway. She said she hoped to be back in a week, but it was a fortnight before she returned, with a completely new set of teeth and more cheerful appearance.

I had never run a hostel before, but with Mr. Neale to tell me anything I was doubtful about and the fact that the staff automatically did what they had been doing for some years even to the extent of making rice pudding for a dessert every day for a fortnight, we managed very well, and as there were only two parties of very pleasant people during that time and an occasional evening visit of Alex and Roy, and a policeman who had the job of starting to build a customs post half way between us and the Tanganyika border, the duties were not onerous, though I was glad to get home.

I have never understood why our life always became crowded with people. We would go to a tiny remote lonely camp in the vast empty bush where our friends thought of us with pity. 'What do find to do?. Aren't you bored ?'. and before very long, there would be visits and visitors and no time at all to do the little extra jobs one puts off for an empty day. I have been bored many times in African towns, but never in the bush.

The Mwenso Mission people heard we were living at Kalungu, and asked us to call. Theirs was a collection of brick buildings set on a rise of land, comprising a hospital block, a school and a few houses, and many African villages round about made the mission their focus and the grounds were always full of them. It was part of the Livingstonia Mission and run in a sound, wholesome and helpful way, the doctor, teachers and nurses mostly Scots, dedicated to their work and cheerful and happy with very little ease and comfort in their lives. Mr. and Mrs. ?? were in charge, an elderly couple whose sitting room could have been transported complete from their home town of Aberdeen, and whose hospitality was as big as their hearts. We had scones of all kinds, Dundee cake and all the rituals of a Scottish tea. We had been surprised to find that Simon could make rolls more like the Scottish morning rolls than we had ever tasted out of Scotland, but now we knew why!.

Dr and Mrs Martin came in to meet us - a young couple not long out from home, and he offered to come to our assistance if any of our Africans needed medical attention. I felt sorry I could not give them the happiness of knowing the had neighbours who shared their beliefs and could enjoy a religious conversation, but they were most kind, and we had the greatest respect for them and all they were doing for their fellow men.

Spooni was a great help. His 'doctor' claim was because he had first aid training on the mines. His blasting certificate meant we could use gelignite to blast rock for the bridge and as a sideline to use gelignite 'bombs' to get fish in the river. This was very popular among the villagers who would arrive in droves to collect the dead fish as soon as they heard the sound of an explosion. Most of the fish were barble , some as big as 20lbs!!.