Donna, my fellow hockey playing chum from the old days, in Kitwe/Nkana, Zambia (the place from which I thankfully escaped), got me connected to the Kitwe Past/Present Facebook page where there’s all these photos posted from those days. The town is now just called Kitwe, not sure why. Used to be the name given to the commerce side of the place. Nkana was the mining part where I lived. In my day it was owned by Anglo/American when the copper mines were pumping and there was money to be made, and housing, schooling and hospitalization were free.
So, despite myself, I’m checking out these photos. And feeling very sad at how Nkana has changed. I left after independence but since then copper prices plunged, all the skilled workers left, and now Zambia is one of the poorest in the world.
This is a photo of the Swimming Baths, where I swam on the Copperbelt swim team and where I met that champion diver from the Zimbabwean team–what was his name? Damn, he was good looking. Six months later, we had a very exciting, hormone-filled grope on the platform at Bulawayo train station where I had briefly escaped my parents and little brother on our thousand mile journey down to Durban, South Africa to holiday on its white sands. I was fifteen.
This was also where I jumped from the top diving board without holding my nose like the ninnies did. This is also where I stuffed toilet paper in the cups of my two piece “cozzie” (bathing suit), where all us girls undressed together in one big cement-floored change room, me pressed against the wall to hide my “bumps.” This is where I met the guy who was determined to stop me from getting married. Unfortunately, he didn’t succeed. And two years later, this is where I took my baby son to play in that turquoise blue fountain to play.
Below is a photo of me in the Swimming Baths heyday (and mine!). And sans stuffing in my bra.
Such cool memories you share. I also thought my boobs were too small. Think that is from ballet;have you noticed that ballerinas all have tiny boobs. Also have a laugh as I had that picture put on the front page of the news under the fountain, when I was not supposed to be at the pool! My brother screamed with laughter to see my face peering at him from the paper with the headlines “So Cool” as we were enjoying a heatwave at the time. I on the other hand, did not know where to hide from my mum. she was not a happy bunny, as she had this extreme fear of water & think she imagined she would get a message that I had drowned somewhere. They only chose me because I had long hair to drape down the side of my face in the water, don’t think it was my good looks!
You have got to share the photo! I would love to see it.
What an cool story and memory. I’m stopping by from the campaign building bloghop. Nice to meet. Sounds like you had quite and interesting youth!
Thanks Julie. So glad you stopped by.
You were from Zambia? Where do you live now? I’m South African. 🙂
Hello Misha, so glad you stopped by. I just posted on your blog. I was born in Roodepoort, went to Zambia when I was 18 months old, and then back to SA, Randfontein and some other mining towns for about five years, Zimbabwe for a while then back to Zambia. My whole family is still in SA well, except for one son who lives in Northern California.
This is such a lovely memory–so thanks for sharing. I’ve always found it interesting how many moments a single place can collect from out life . . . it’s too bad what’s happened though.
Anyway, just dropping by from the campaign and thought I’d say hello. 🙂
Hi there Sarah, thanks so much for checking out my blog. See you on the campaign trail.