What an experience!
The first time in my ‘long’ life I went
TEN PIN BOWLING
The staff of the school had a lovely evening out. There were four teams of six. We thoroughly enjoyed the outing.
Met liefde en verlange na liewe Mamma.
Bale Drome vra dat ons stapskoene aantrek en wys waarheen die stap lei.
Die jaar 2006 het baie draaie met my geloop. Alles het begin met-
My besoek aan Bertus, my seun, wat in 2005 na Nieu Zealand getrek het. Net met sy tas is hy weg uit Suid Afrika om nie weer terug te gaan nie.
Ek het die geleentheid gehad om in 2006 in Nieu Zealand te gaan kuier en uit te vind hoe die lewe daar is. Ook om natuurlik te gaan kyk hoe dit met my kind gaan!
1 Februarie 2006
Jan Smuts Lughawe- Oliver thambo vandag
Daar gaat ek.
Na 18 ure se vlieg land die vliegtuig in Sydney, Australië. Dan twee ure se wag vir aansluiting na Wellington, Nieu Zealand se hoofstad. Ek land net voor twaalf die aand.
Die volgende oggend was ek gedaan!
Wellington met sy hawe, The Bee Hive – parlementsgebou, Te Papa – “ons huis” museum, en heuwels.
Ons gaan kuier by Stella, nou Bertus se vrou
se ouers in Cambridge.
Dit is n agt ure se ry vanaf Wellington tot in Cambridge.
Kapiti kus en Kapiti Eiland.
Foxton omtrent 170 km verder-
wat steeds koring maal vir broodbak.
Ook n geskiedkundige vlas fabriek waar
toue gemaak word.
Karapiri meer naby Hamelton.
Welbekende Huka Waterval.
Sommer nog baie mooi dinge.
Braai n vleisie!
Nie kole nie!
Klink n laaste glasie voordat ek die nag terug vlieg.
Daar gaat ek weer terug.
Wellington, Sydney en Johannesburg.
Ek kan steeds nie glo dat ek in so n pragtige land bly nie. Van hierdie besoek af het daar nog baie reise plaasgevind.
Hoop almal het die stukkie land geniet. Tot n volgende keer!
Hierdie week se uitdaging word aangebied deur travel460 van die blog Bali Drome. Die uitdaging open om 12:00 op Donderdag 3 Mei.
Om die inskrywings van verskillende bloggers in die Lê-Jou-Eier uitdaging te geniet of om self ‘n blog wat jy geskryf het aan te heg by hierdie skakel, klik op die InLinkz skakel net onder die paddatjie:
Vir die reëls van hierdie uitdaging, om raad te kry oor hoe om deel te neem en om elke week se aankondiging van die nuwe onderwerp te sien, besoek die volgende skakel by Dis Ekke. Onder hierdie kategorie, kyk na die blogposts Lê-Jou-Eier: Reëls (2017-08-22) en Lê-Jou-Eier: Hoe neem ek deel? (2017-08-22).
Forty years of teaching experience gives me a lot to reminisce about school, children, parents, teaching and teachers.
I was never cut out to be a teacher. Never liked teaching much too. But I, as a dedicated person, learned to give my best while working with children.
The best of my teaching time was when I taught English second language, history and technology at High School Secunda. I had year eight, nine and ten. Teenagers are difficult years. I usually had the average and below average students classes. The lessons had to be as colourful and well planned as could be so that they could participate naturally.
Those eight years at high school were trying years in South Africa. Secunda with Sasol II and III was a danger zone for bomb attacks. The year twelve boys had to protect the school and patrolled the verandas around the classrooms. Guns were ready in the vault for in case. We also had regularly emergency evacuations.
We, as teachers, also trained to use a firearm. We had shooting exercises to make sure that we were prepared. We had to use our firearm for protection. It’s a big responsibility to protect children and keep them safe.
I usually had the slower children in my register class. Most of the time I had to be a mother, father and friend to these troubled children.
One year I had a girls class. One of the girls was sent to a reform school. Her home environment was terrible. She was a real rebel and using drugs. I filled reports and forms on her behaviour which was a huge task. I know that she was rehabilitated at the end and wrote her matric. I was glad that she did well. The worst was that, the first day she was free to face life outside the school, a car killed her while crossing the street.
Another year I had a boys class. They were a handful a real rough bunch. However, we playfully tackled the day’s work. There were twins, both in the same class. They were ten brothers and sisters, all equally rough. They were, however, a close family and well-mannered. After a year out of school, I met one of the twins at the shops. He was so happy to see me. His first words: “I was released from prison yesterday.I’m never going to lose my temper again.I want to be a good father to my child and husband to my wife.” It is sad that children who are inner good, land in situations that get out of control. Another boy one day shouted from the back of the room: “I won’t take out my book.” I took him to the principal who gave him a proper reprimand. In the end, he was a grateful child who passed his year. He realised he had to do his work to achieve something. He bought me a coke and thanked me for helping him to stay on the right path. These small tokens of appreciation of educating children made it worth the while. I mostly had to do a lot of incentives work to convince them that, with hard work and pressure, life is worth it.
These are a few snippets from my teaching journey.
My book is on the market as an eBook and paperback.
I hope you will enjoy reading about a young girl migrating from the Netherlands to South Africa. This book is about the first six years of my life.
The second volume will be About me growing up in South Africa during the early 1950s up to where I started my first teaching job late 1960s.
Visit NiTinairwrites For rules
I still remember my best childhood gift. A sleeping doll with a soft green dress!
She was so beautiful I could not keep my eyes from her. When I held her in my arms, like a baby, she would close her eyes. Then when I kept her upright, she would look at me with bright blue glassy doll’s eyes. She also had long curly golden nylon hair.
In 1952 my family moved to South Africa from the Netherlands. It was at the beginning of February when the journey started. My 6th birthday was going to be on the ship!
Next door to our home lived two sisters who, to me as a nearly six-year-old, looked very old. They were friends of my parents. A day before our departure they came over and told me that they had a present for me because they won’t see me on my birthday later in February. I opened my present, and guess what? In the box, all dressed up was this most beautiful doll. Her body was soft, and her head, hands and parts of her legs were made from porcelain. Her face was beautifully painted and then those glassy blue eyes! I will never forget her eyes. She even had on some white shoes and socks.
I loved this doll so much. I never liked to give it to my sisters to play with. A year or two later one of my sisters played with it outside. She forgot to bring it in and the early morning dew ruined my lovely doll’s face. She was never the beauty again.
Like Jesus, every human being has enough memories in his past to occupy his time and thoughts continually. It is not the remembrance of these incidents but the reliving of them that creates havoc in our souls. Mother Angelica
Read more at: https://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/remembrance.html
Unbelievable! After 25 years, I am standing here, looking at the ruins of the rehabilitation centre.
The entrance is dilapidated. Seized with emotion, tears of affection roll down my cheeks. Deep within me, memories churn and tangle around. My thoughts are a vortex of anxiety, sadness, despair, and yet at the end victory.
January 2, 19 … Soft hands helped me up. The hands put me into the waiting vehicle. I felt tired, so tired and nauseous. I did not want to live. A soft voice kept on calming me down. The voice, soft and reassuring, kept on talking to me.
It’s a long ride. Each turn made me feel as if I were tumbling over the edge. Deep into the mountains and high on a hill the vehicle came to a sudden halt. The door opened. I fell out like a bag of potatoes from the vehicle. Again the soft hands and voice. People lead me into the building. It smelled of clean floors. The smell of freshly cooked food sickened me. When did I last have a decent meal? I couldn’t remember. I had to get my bottle. What did I do with it? I got mad with anger. I trembled from head to toe. Strong hands took a firm hold on both my shaky arms. They took me through corridors and around corners. Suddenly I heard a door opening. In front of me a bed, a pillow and blanket. The hands pushed me down onto the bed. They left. I could not stop shaking. Everything faded away. I flopped, onto the bed.
Many days later I woke up. My head was still aching, but the shaking was gone. They transferred me to a dorm with eight other people. The room was airy and clean. My roommates showed me systematically where everything was.
I can remember that there were three wings each with passages and small single rooms and at the end of each a dorm with eight beds. The passages were divided into two wings, with a kitchenette and bathroom on both sides of the passage in the middle.The kitchenette had a kettle, some cups and a small fridge. We could make our coffee or tea which the hospital provided.
There were small enclosures between the wings of the building. Inmates could sit outside and breathe fresh air. Everything was secured down. There was no opportunity for any escape.
As each person improved, they each gradually got more freedom.
A fully furnished recreation room provided hours of fun for the patients. Every person had some chores to do. Cooking, cleaning, gardening later. In the end, persons were led to live a better life again. After two years of rehabilitation, I could go back into the community, rehabilitated and well. Clean of alcohol and drugs, and here I stand again, looking at the ruins of the hospital which I am going to enter in a moment from now. It hurts to look back at that time, but I am grateful for the soft voice and hands that brought me here that day twenty-five years ago.
I have taken all the photos. The hospital was locked and I had to take the photos through the windows.
Part two will be about entering the hospital and telling what could be seen, felt and remembered.
Whether it’s water or some other reflective surface, what have you seen recently that has changed your perspective on the view?
A while ago I took photos of a rehabilitation hospital which has been closed because of many obstacles that made the running of it impossible.
I could not go inside and had to take photos through the dirty windows.
My thoughts ran away with me when I saw the empty rooms;
empty rooms used twenty-five years ago for helping addicted people.
Reflections from me on the outside windows.
May 5, 2017. It’s write Easy. Every Friday I join a writing group and write anecdotes from my past. We usually get six words for the week. We pick one word or more and write about it. My word was motorcycle.
Some people, when they are young, love to show off by having a better motorcycle than their best friends.
My son, while at school was and still is a big motorcycle fan.
While in school he bought himself a field motorbike with his money selling newspapers. It took him two years to put the money together. It was a second-hand motorcycle, and most of the time he was busy trying to fix it. As soon as it was roadworthy again, he would go off with lots of noise and speed up and down the dirt track near our house.
He studied at the Technikon in Pretoria. After a year of using a yellow Austin Mini which I gave him as his first vehicle, he bought himself a black streamlined motorcycle. He enjoyed to ride it. He even would drive the hundred and fifty kilometres home on the weekend to visit me.
Some years later he told me that he nearly killed himself driving down a steep hill. He drove downhill and lost control, ventured on the pavement, and almost bumped full on into a signboard pole which stopped him. He showed me photos of the brake marks on the road and sidewalk. Lucky for him that he missed it by a few millimetres.
One of the first things my son did when he arrived in New Zealand he bought himself a motorcycle. He even bought a second which he tried to modernise his own way. He loved fiddling with the engines. Nowadays he is more into designing and making electronic boards which bring in some money to help pay the bills now that he has expanded his family.
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