Que Que High School
Que Que, Southern Rhodesia (Kwekwe, Zimbabwe), 1965-1966
The trip down
My brother John and his new wife Dawn took a holiday trip, driving down south
from Chingola in late '64, running-in their brand new
Cortina GT. My parents
had decided that, with the breakup of the
Federation of Rhodesia and Nyasaland and with Northern Rhodesia becoming
Zambia, the local schooling would surely go to pot. So I was packed into the
back of the Cortina, and was dropped off at Que Que some days later. John
was prone to fancies. Well, not exactly fancies I suppose, since once he'd
got the fancy into his head, he didn't often let go. Just before this
trip, he had discovered fresh ground pepper, as in, put pepper seeds into a
grinder, twist it, and out comes fresh ground pepper. Well, almost no one
had seen a pepper grinder in the colonies, and John was smitten. So every
meal we took on the trip, John would ostentatiously produce the pepper grinder,
and embellish his food with gusto. From time to time he'd be sure to
explain to the curious hotel and waiting staff what he had and what it did.
I'd shake my head every time he offered me a sprinkling on my plate, but it
didn't stop him offering. Every time. Tenacious probably describes
John (smile).
I took my "O" levels at
Que Que High
School in 1965 and 1966 as a boarder. 'Doc' Livingstone was headmaster.
Gabby Turnbull and other teachers
'Gabby'
Turnbull taught English in Form 3A in 1965. He introduced me to some
literature he had under lock and key, lending me the Alexandrian quartet by
Laurence Durrell. I've pretty sure that Gabby made a positive and appreciated
impression on everyone he met, I thought he was fantastic, but being outgoing
and homosexual in those days was always a problem for authority. When Gabby left
(to retire?), Mrs Livingtone took over teaching English, and in Form 4A the
change from Gabby to Mrs L was such a shock for me that I went from top to
bottom of the class, and it was the only 'O'-level I failed. I passed my other
13 subjects with, as I recall, 7 As and 6 Bs...
'Fluffy' Gersh taught history with remarkable effectiveness, achieving pass
rates the envy of all his colleagues. I had a soft spot for 'Fluffy' despite his
ridiculous toupee, since he had a wickedly dry sense of humour. I had
absolutely no interest whatsoever in history, but Fluffy got me my 'A' grade.
Science was taught in the 4th form by 'Chang' Francis, Housemaster of the boys'
hostel, and I remember his beautiful daughter on her visits, all the boy
boarders magically found a variety of reasons to be suddenly hanging about his
driveway at her arrival and departure. Maths was taught by the very patient Mr
Gardiner, who once took some of us out to a rifle-range to fire a few shots
using his .22. I thought little of it at the time, but now realise that most
adults could foresee the approach of the bush war, and in their various ways
wanted to prepare us kids. French was taught by the irrepressible Mrs
Fourie who would periodically let us know the importance of a woman's
'headlights'. To this day I can travel in France and Belgium and the locals I
talk to will ask, "Which suburb of Brussels did you go to school in?", such was
her skill in teaching me to speak.
I now realise the great tolerance shown to me by 'Doc', 'Chang', Mr Gardiner,
and the other teachers, sadly far too late for me to thank them. I remember
passing by the classroom one afternoon on some random errand and seeing Mr
Gardiner hard at work at his desk with an older student looking on. I put my
nose in. After a few moments, Mr Gardiner looked up. "Hmm, Gilbert, we've been
working on this GCSE exam question for half an hour, I can't seem to get the
right answer." I walked over, read the question, and said something like,
"Crikey, it's pretty simple, if you assume X, Y follows, and using that gives
you Z. That's the solution." It took me 30 seconds. I remember a pause, and a
different teacher might have put me in my place; but Mr Gardiner just sighed. A
couple of times a week I'd meet up with Barbara at a remote spot on the playing
fields, and we'd cuddle up for quiet half-hour before returning to our separate
hostels. Sometimes 'Doc' would stroll by in the middle distance with Mrs L
trotting beside him, and he'd look at us. We'd say, "'Afternoon, Sir!" but
otherwise not flinch. A different headmaster might have sent us packing or even
put us on report (or detention as it was called), but 'Doc' just nodded and
strode on. Barbara was a bright cookie, and Chang quickly figured out that we
gained nothing in his Physics classes. He told us to go and amuse ourselves with
the experimental apparatus in the back room instead, which we did for the rest
of the year. I still have no real idea why they gave me such a long
rope...
Girls and others
I'd always been more than a little interested in girls, but my first 'proper'
girlfriend was Barbara Bray in Form 4A, she was captain of the girls hockey
team. Barbara and I were placed onto the four-person school quiz team, and I
remember us beating a more fancied school in our first round, to everyone's
astonishment. The school then organised the school bus to take us to Salisbury
for the second and third rounds, to be broadcast live on the radio. A big
event in those days! We lost the third round, but during the night on the
trip back Barbara and I fumbled quietly in the front row. The back row, as
anyone knows who has ever travelled on a school bus, is reserved to the, ah,
more assertive and boisterous, and consequently get most of the teachers'
attention. The front row, as everyone knows, is filled by goodie-goodies and
teachers' pets; that suited me just fine, it meant I was well under the radar...
I remember Barbara as cheerful and perky, my lasting image is of her in an
excitingly short and tight hockey gym slip and a hockey stick to hand, ready to
do battle with the unsuspecting opposition. She moved to Bulawayo for her
'A' levels, and I moved to Thornhill High in Gwelo. Our romance died due to
distance.
Pauline Earle was another bright cookie, tall and assured. Molly "The Sheep"
(Tredway-Leonard?) tolerated Fluffy's jibes with amazing good humour, she was a
sweetheart. Fayne Desfontaine politely suffered my bad jokes. In my first class
on my first day at the school with Mr Furber in Geography, I was shaking with
tension, and Sharon Jenkins (or Jenkinson?) noticed and gave me a quiet smile
from the other side of the classroom. Unforgettable; thank you, Sharon!
Hostel head boy in '66 was Ian Coates on whom I had a kind-of crush (Gabby would
have approved!), but it turned out I was thoroughly hetero. Louis Fourie was Mrs
Fourie's son, I deeply envied his easy-going manner especially with the girls.
Alan Lloyd and Clive Prior played the drums in the cadets marching band with
panache, and Donald Marillier played fearless rugby. John Hornibrook was quietly
sane and I think fancied Barbara as well. Stephen Coggan scored for the cricket
team, a position I would have liked; I was stupidly unkind to Stephen as a
result. A pair of nasty bullies in the form of Wayne Hunter and Patrick
Fitzgerald made my life hell in the dormitory, but Terry Fitt modelled a variety
of ways of dealing with them, I admired his insouciance. David Hatchuel was a
boarder at that time, and would look after me. I am very sorry to say I was
unbearably rude to him, and he eventually gave up on me. These folk and
more are active on the
Que
Que High School Facebook group.
The Jewish community
I was let out for the odd weekend into the care and feeding of Ronnie and Ida
Samson, who put up with my Aspergers remarkably well, introducing me to the
Tapersons and the Schattils. I wanted for nothing in their house. Early
on, I emptied their jar of mixed pickles one supper, eating nothing else, and
thereafter the table always had a full jar awaiting my pleasure. Of course
I thought little of it at the time, but I now tear up at the memory of their
tolerant understanding. I remember trying to discuss sex with a somewhat
bemused Lynette Samson when she was on vacation from 'varsity, and fantasising
about it with the vivacious Gillian Schattil, much to her dad's ill-concealed
alarm. These days, Diana Hirsch gathers Que Que reminiscences on her blog
and Web site, Once Called Home, a
must-read for nostalgic and somewhat dispossessed old-timers. Start with "Victrix
Ludorum", if you are new, it is one of Diana's best blog posts, and in its
photo is Lynette exactly as I remember her.
Travel
Travelling back home during school breaks was either by train via Bulawayo,
Livingstone, Lusaka, and Kitwe, or by air from Salisbury to Ndola. Both were
exciting, since while the train from Que Que to either Bulawayo or Salisbury was
teacher-supervised, I travelled unaccompanied on the rest of the journey.
In either case, many of the fellow travellers were pupils from other Rhodesian
schools on their way back to family in Zambia. By train, the journey took
two days and two nights, while the flight was a Rhodesian Airways Vickers
Viscount with a duration of around two hours. My first crossing of the
Victoria Falls by train remains etched in my memory. It wasn't the
majestic sight of the falls from the precarious-looking railway bridge.
No, it was the sight of hundreds (I somehow remember a sky-darkening cloud of
thousands!) of railway arm rest cushions being thrown from open windows to fall
into the abyss as the train crept its way over the bridge.
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