I remember the smell of fresh coffee even though i did not drink coffee at the time. Every morning in the tropical weather of Angola my grandmother would have a pot of coffee on the stove. And as the steam flew from the kitchen to the rest of the house it would wake us up like a sweet alarm clock. The smell was truly a temptation and i remember tasting a "Galão" for the first time. It was aromatic, sweet and the kick of the fresh coffee had me jumping off the walls.
Life then was great for a 6 year old. I was just the right age to start school in a new country and starting to learn a new language. It all felt like a big adventure!!!
My mother then had long long hair down to her waist, she had had it permed to have long beautiful curls. I remember my mother as the most beautiful woman i have ever known and my father was to me the strongest man on earth. My friends at school and i would argue about who was the strongest man; and they just could not understand the concept that my father was way stronger than any superhero in any comic book or TV series.
My sister was only 2 years older then me but she seemed older as she would enjoy adult company more than my childish companionship. She used to look out for me at our new school and wherever else we were together. At home I used to like spending hours at a time playing in the garden or even closed in my room. My imagination would take me places no vehicle could.
Speaking about vehicles... My grandfather used to own a little car that even though time took its toll on it, it still took us places. It seemed like the car's color used to be red but now it was left with a faded color of something between red and brown. Whenever my family and i would pack ourselves in the car people used to point and laugh as we drove by; such was the state of the poor car. I guess this would of embarrassed me if i were a little older, but at the time i found it extremely amusing.
Speaking about vehicles... My grandfather used to own a little car that even though time took its toll on it, it still took us places. It seemed like the car's color used to be red but now it was left with a faded color of something between red and brown. Whenever my family and i would pack ourselves in the car people used to point and laugh as we drove by; such was the state of the poor car. I guess this would of embarrassed me if i were a little older, but at the time i found it extremely amusing.
I remember wanting to be older than i was at the age of 6 or 7. When the time came to pick out my first school bag; my dad helped me choose it. It was red and simple with no pictures or cartoon characters on it, unlike all the other girls in my class. I though it made me look older and even maybe a little cooler. So you can imagine how chuffed i felt when one of the boys at school told me that he thought my bag was cool! That was probably the first compliment i ever got from the opposite sex of my own age group.
It seemed so much different here in Angola than it was in Johannesburg. My grandfather and i would go out in the morning to fetch fresh bread; ladies of all colors and ages would be at the neighborhood park kneading bread on the floor and baking the bread in ovens made from clay. They would lay large pieces of plastic to protect their dough from the ground and the whole area smelt like a bakery. By lunch time all the ladies would have packed their things and left.
Angola then was still recuperating from civil war and soon to break out in to a new one. I remember how Jonas Savimbi was running for government against the MPLA and that us, as young children would be super happy to receive the campaign gifts that were given out to the public. I remember my grandfather being pro-Savimbi and my grandmother was a supporter of the opponent party. My grandmother in order to get us children to stop fiddling with our noses would say... 'If you play with your nose it will end up looking like Savimbis!' I guess this was the first political experience i was consciously involved in.
I remember playing with all the children of our neighborhood. Some of my friends had darker skin than mine and some of my friends looked just like i did. Some of my friends were not allowed to come play with me when i was playing with my darker skin friends, and when that happened i would have to go visit them at their home as they were not allowed to come play at the park.
Our park was not that great when you come to think of it. All the playground toys had been broken; and i once fell of the seesaw because it did not have handles to hold on to. In someways the whole of Luanda was like our neighborhood park. A beautiful place where everyone of every skin color loved to gather. A place that has been damaged from the consequences of war but still holds all the natural beauty that mother nature has to give. I remember picking tropical fruits to eat from the treas. Our back yard had paw paw trees, coconut trees and a fruit that i never ever more encountered in my life which my grandfather used to call "Sap sap"; i latter found out that it was called soursop fruit. In Luanda i got to taste my first sugar cane; before that i don't think i knew where sugar came from. This country tough me many things even though at the time i had no idea that class was in session. In Luanda i learnt how to pray. Not that i did not pray before i came to Luanda, but then is when i was taught how to do it formally. I learnt the "Our Father" prayer in Portuguese and another one for protection. I never ever forgot these prayers and i never stop using them.
We would dance! Dance freely with no steps and no rules. The music came from the inside out and it was pure fun and joy. We would laugh at ourselves dancing and there was no shame and no embarrassment.
Sometimes i feel like Luanda is paradise in disguise somewhere where all people of any color can live together and be happy; My family and i had went to the beach one day. I remember feeling so exited to see the beach for the first time. In Johannesburg no one ever mentioned going to the beach. Now the beach was just a short drive from home. As we sat on the white fluffy sea sand i noticed that there was another family at the beach that day. The mommy of the family had dark skin and the daddy had light skin. They had two boys who were probably bout my and my sisters age and both of them had different color skin. I had never seen such a colorful family before.
So basically these are a bunch of my childhood memories from the time that my family and i lived in Luanda. What am i trying to say? Well, i am trying to say that when you are a child, your mind is open. You see new things and take them in with excitement. You will remember the smells, the tastes and the experiences and create an opinion. So, don't let your kids sit in front of a TV set or on the PC all day long... Put a pot of coffee on the stove, bake a cake, throw some cookies in the oven and let the smell create a memory. Go out and play. Meet your neighbors even if their skin color is different from yours. Grow fruits and vegetables in your garden, pick them and eat them; your children should know where the food they eat comes from. Don't forget to dance! Why? Because its fun and it doesn't matter if you know the steps or not. Teach your children how to pray and do it just once; Provide them with the tools and they can choose if they want to use them or not.
Angola then was still recuperating from civil war and soon to break out in to a new one. I remember how Jonas Savimbi was running for government against the MPLA and that us, as young children would be super happy to receive the campaign gifts that were given out to the public. I remember my grandfather being pro-Savimbi and my grandmother was a supporter of the opponent party. My grandmother in order to get us children to stop fiddling with our noses would say... 'If you play with your nose it will end up looking like Savimbis!' I guess this was the first political experience i was consciously involved in.
I remember playing with all the children of our neighborhood. Some of my friends had darker skin than mine and some of my friends looked just like i did. Some of my friends were not allowed to come play with me when i was playing with my darker skin friends, and when that happened i would have to go visit them at their home as they were not allowed to come play at the park.
Our park was not that great when you come to think of it. All the playground toys had been broken; and i once fell of the seesaw because it did not have handles to hold on to. In someways the whole of Luanda was like our neighborhood park. A beautiful place where everyone of every skin color loved to gather. A place that has been damaged from the consequences of war but still holds all the natural beauty that mother nature has to give. I remember picking tropical fruits to eat from the treas. Our back yard had paw paw trees, coconut trees and a fruit that i never ever more encountered in my life which my grandfather used to call "Sap sap"; i latter found out that it was called soursop fruit. In Luanda i got to taste my first sugar cane; before that i don't think i knew where sugar came from. This country tough me many things even though at the time i had no idea that class was in session. In Luanda i learnt how to pray. Not that i did not pray before i came to Luanda, but then is when i was taught how to do it formally. I learnt the "Our Father" prayer in Portuguese and another one for protection. I never ever forgot these prayers and i never stop using them.
We would dance! Dance freely with no steps and no rules. The music came from the inside out and it was pure fun and joy. We would laugh at ourselves dancing and there was no shame and no embarrassment.
Sometimes i feel like Luanda is paradise in disguise somewhere where all people of any color can live together and be happy; My family and i had went to the beach one day. I remember feeling so exited to see the beach for the first time. In Johannesburg no one ever mentioned going to the beach. Now the beach was just a short drive from home. As we sat on the white fluffy sea sand i noticed that there was another family at the beach that day. The mommy of the family had dark skin and the daddy had light skin. They had two boys who were probably bout my and my sisters age and both of them had different color skin. I had never seen such a colorful family before.
So basically these are a bunch of my childhood memories from the time that my family and i lived in Luanda. What am i trying to say? Well, i am trying to say that when you are a child, your mind is open. You see new things and take them in with excitement. You will remember the smells, the tastes and the experiences and create an opinion. So, don't let your kids sit in front of a TV set or on the PC all day long... Put a pot of coffee on the stove, bake a cake, throw some cookies in the oven and let the smell create a memory. Go out and play. Meet your neighbors even if their skin color is different from yours. Grow fruits and vegetables in your garden, pick them and eat them; your children should know where the food they eat comes from. Don't forget to dance! Why? Because its fun and it doesn't matter if you know the steps or not. Teach your children how to pray and do it just once; Provide them with the tools and they can choose if they want to use them or not.
Don't forget where you came from and where you have been;
And don't forget what those places have taught you.
xoxo Natasha Elena G.
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