a little history about today and the past

I was at Jane and Nichola's today last year. It was a starry night and the leafy trees were swaying outside the shimmering bungalow house. I was taking a shower in the bathroom, fumbling in a pile of "woman use" lotions with my eyes covered in hair shampoo. Jane said the tap water in town had been contaminated, but still could be used to clean our contaminated bodies. I found the tub drain was clogged so I bent over to unclog it. A tiny ball of hair was pulled out in a tangle. Judging by the color, I knew they were not mine.

I had just returned to Grahamstown from Queenstown, where I did a whole day's documentary shooting with Asa and Zikhona, two Xhosa girls who kept making fun out of the things they had seen.

"That's the hospital where I was born! " Zikhona shouted when we were waiting for the mini-bus outside Fort Hare. "I can't believe it's still there."

She pointed to a piece of white wooden board which said "Victoria Hospital". As the bus took me away, I saw a sign nailed to a tree on the side of the road: "Abortion is a sin. God will punish you." I had heard that polygamy was a commonplace among the Xhosa people and that unprotected sex was started at an early age by the youths in townships before they even had a good knowledge about AIDs. However, Catholic churches ruled all.

The hot shower did me tremendous good or perhaps it was because I had attempted to use some of Jane and Nichola's beauty products. Mithril, Jane's wolf dog was scratching his itchy part when I came out in my top and short pants. Jane insisted that I use her room for the night. "I'll sleep in the living room. Don't worry, I like sleeping there." Jane said. Her room was tidy with three kinds of decoration: framed photos, light wooden pieces in animal shapes hanging from the ceiling, and a low shelf stacked with books. I recognized Lord of the Rings among them, from where Mithril got his name. A rug was placed before the bed and I smelt a strong scent coming out of it. A dog's smell, by all that my nose could tell. I felt a little bit sorry for Mithril who might have been a regular sleeper in this room.

"...really? Today's Chong Way's birthday?... I see..." Jane was talking on the phone when I came into the light in the living room. "Chong Way," Jane handed the receiver to me with one hand covering the upper end, "Here's a call from Mindy."

I took it over and heard Mindy saying in guilty voice. "Chong Way, I should've told Jane earlier so that she could prepare a cake and some candles for you. I'm sorry that Robert and I can't be with you to celebrate your birthday. I wish you a happy birthday."

"Thank you, Mindy, but it's alright." I scratched my head and said, "I really appreciate that you still remember it. My father could hardly tell the day I was born. It's really OK. My family doesn't have a tradition of observing birthdays."

"Oh, poor Chong Way. " Mindy said, "You deserve a birthday celebration here. Don't worry, Jane will do it for you."

I hung up the phone and found Jane discussing with Nichola.
"Hey, boy, how come you don't tell us today is your birthday?" Nichola said accusingly.
"I didn't realize it until Mindy called me." I said. Obviously the matter was taken far more seriously than I could expect.
"Well I think we've still got a half cake in the fridge. haven't we?" Jane asked.
"Oh, yes. And some candles we had used in the last black-out." Nichola added.
Then both of them giggled.

A couple of minites later, an incomplete cake and some used candles were ready out on the wooden table on the veranda.
"Make a wish, boy." Nichola said after she had lit the candles with a matchstick.
I closed my eyes and palms, and made a wish of God-knows-what. When I was about to blow the candles, Nichola interrupted, "Give it a hard blow, boy. Concentrate and wipe them out once and for all."
I re-inhaled and blew the air out.
"Hurray!" They shouted, and Jane took out a long knife and gave it to me.
"OK, now you need to cut the cake. Remember when knife touches the bottom, you must scream the hell out of you." Nichola said.
"Scream? Really?" I asked doubtfully.
"Yes, Scream, Ahhhh--! Like this." Nichola demonstrated by holding her face in two hands and let out a high-pitched voice.

I slowly slid down the knife through the cake's softness.
"Do you feel it?" Nichola asked tentatively.
"Yes, I think I've touched the bottome."
"Ahhh---!!!" Jane and Nichola screamed, both holding their faces in hands.
"Ahhh---!!!" I joined them with my coarse voice.
We all laughed and finished the cake while sitting on the veranda facing the starry sky. Mithril jumped onto the couch and put his head upon Jane's legs. It was early winter, but the breeze still felt warm.

We chatted and Jane told me her child story when I posed a question about the Afrikaners and British living in South Africa.
"I was about 7 when my family moved from Liverpool to South Africa. My father was an engineer, and to work as an engineer in South Africa, one can make a better life than in Britain in the 70s. I remember the family living next to our door were Afrikaners, but I was too little to know what that means. They had a little girl of my age and we'd often play together. Her mother never saw us playing so everything was OK, until one day she took me into her house. Her mother saw me, and asked me about my family. I told her that we were from Liverpool, that's when she grew furious and shouted 'Out out you go! Do you know my grandparents were killed by you people!' She pushed me out of their house. I was petrified. After that, I and that girl were never allowed to see together."

We kept silent for a while, then I started, "I remember in one of Howard's classes, he said that actually it was the British who invented concentration camp. It was during the Boer War, when the British rounded up the Afrikaners and put them in camps like what the Nazis did to the Jews. Right after Howard said that, a student, who was obviously British if not English, interrupted. 'It can't be true!' He protested, 'The Brits didn't do that.' 'It is true.' Howard said sternly, 'Go to a library, it's all written on the books. There is no need for an arguement on a historical fact, which there is no doubt about.' The student looked very defeated and didn't say anything."

"Yes, I can understand why he was upset." Jane said, with one hand stroking Mithril's head, "I also came to understand why that little girl's mother was so furious after I have learned what happened to them in the past."