Our
favourite place of recreation when we were very young was the Victoria Gardens
in the beautiful island of Zanzibar.
As
children we particularly liked going there because we could spend time amusing
ourselves by terrorizing the “blood suckers” as we used to call them. These were large lizards that that were
harmless but since they looked like mini crocodiles to us, we thought that it
was our duty to cleanse the garden of this vermin. These harmless reptiles earned the name from
a parent who, in an effort to be persuasive, tried to keep the kids away from
them by frightening them into the belief that they would suck the blood of any
kid who got close to them. Who said that there were no conservationist way back
when?!
As
soon as we were transported to the garden by our maid every afternoon, we went
in search of rocks which were to be our ammunition. Some of us carried rocks
that we could scarcely lift for the rationale was that the bigger the rock the
more likely it was that we could exterminate the vermin with one hit. The truth of the matter is that we were so
scared of these frightened lizards that we stayed miles away from them and no
rock in my memory ever reached its target.
Furthermore, the moment the unsuspecting lizards saw us coming, they
quickly disappeared in their hideouts or got lost in the thick bushes. Somehow, in retrospect, one would have hoped
that these lizards would migrate to a safer domain, but it would seem that they
enjoyed the frequent assaults since they always showed us their tongues
whenever they saw us. This made us even
more determined to get them!!
Our
maids did not realize that there were two entrances to the Victoria Gardens. One was the large Iron Gate that faced the
main road through which most kids entered and left around 6 p.m. before the
gates were shut, and another that opened out to the road leading to the Health
Department. My young friends and I would
take a great delight in slyly going to the Health Department (without our maids
knowing anything about it) where the Health Department kept large cages that
housed fat and well nourished rabbits and guinea pigs. We loved to talk to the rabbits because they
seemed to be listening to every word that we said turning their large ears
towards us like antennae. We also came
to visit the rabbits and guinea pigs bearing gifts. We knew that they loved to eat grass so we
carried with us heaps of it from Victoria Gardens particularly when the care-taking
staff did not cut the grass for days and the grass grew into gourmet meals for
the animals. There must have been a
whole lot of bald spots on the otherwise smoothly groomed grass. I remember that we spent more time with the
rabbits than we did with the guinea pigs who somehow gave us the impression
that they did not trust us. The rabbits
on the other hand were very cooperative and we enjoyed sticking long stems of
grass into the chicken mesh while the rabbits chewed at them.
The
other distraction in Victoria Gardens was the pond in which there were
virtually hundreds of very active cat fish.
Those in charge of the garden made it very clear to us that we were not
to bring any fishing equipment to this pond.
However, our greatest pleasure was to catch grasshoppers and feed them
to the fish which came in great shoals and devoured the grasshoppers very
greedily. One day, we stared at the fish
and because of the latent fisherman’s genes that we possessed, decided that we
would wait until sunset and come back with a makeshift fishing line; with a pin
bent in the form of a hook, and try our luck fishing in this pond. At the time
none of us believed that the hook would latch on to anything. The
line had to be cast from the roadside on the other side of the fence, so that
we would not be seen. We first caught a
large juicy grasshopper which was
already a tried bait. The line was cast,
and we did not have to wait long. There was
suddenly a massive tug. We pulled the
line in only to discover a catfish almost a foot long. We ran for dear life with the fish dangling
at the end of the line. While we were
half way home, an elderly man told us that catfish was not an edible fish and
that since it could live for a long time out of the water, it might be a good
idea to return it to the very pond where it was caught.
None
of us were prepared to go back and it was only after much encouragement by the
old man that we inched our way back to the pond. As we passed through Vuga Street, a stray cat
followed us begging for the fish with its endless mewing. Being the softies that we were, we thought
that we would share our booty with him. We
sat around the cat until it had its fill and all but the head of the fish was
left.
Another
attraction in the Victoria Gardens was to watch some of the seniors playing
badminton which was built close to a bora tree that we, as kids, would
ambitiously attack with rocks and sticks to bring down these sour berries. When the seniors played their game, it became
necessary to attack the tree from the outside where we could not be seen. Many of the seniors escaped concussions very
narrowly.
Some
of us viewed our afternoon trips to the Garden as a form of picnic. We loved “jugus” (peanuts) that were sold
just as one entered the Garden. The
vendor had two kinds. Some were boiled
and others were baked with salt. For
our insatiable appetites these peanuts were a welcome interlude particularly
after so much spent energy running around the garden playing games that were
made up on the spur of the moment by some very creative kids.
By
the time I reached twelve, and developed an interest in girls, my brothers
became very concerned about me degenerating into a bath-addicted, hair combing,
clean shirt and starched-pant dandy, and so they decided that they would adopt
the age-old strategy of bullying me back into the “boy” that they knew. They
paid me several visits at the garden with their persuasive friends to embarrass
me and to rub in the fact that I had degenerated into a sissy and that it was
highest time that I moved out of this environment pronto. The unkindest cut of all was when my brothers
ganged up against me at home, and would not include me in any of their games or
activities. Their pressure soon had the
desired effect on me, for no girl (no matter how much she stirred my hormones)
would be a match to the bonding that existed among the brothers.
Victoria
Gardens soon became an incident in my life, but it certainly is remembered
today for the things that we did as a prelude to entering the complicated world
of maturity.
Victoria
Gardens will also be remembered for the generosity of Mr. A. Machado the
Manager of the Garden. Every Saturday we
lined up at his office for a bunch of flowers which were freshly cut for anyone
who requested it. Mr. Machado always gave us the nicest flowers
and when we took them home, they always lit up my mother’s face, for she always
recognized it as an act of love from her kids, who, for the rest of week gave
her much time to reflect on the possibility that she may be wrong.
COMMENTS.
Aaah Victoria Gardens, so many wonderful memories. My Ayah took me to Vic every afternoon where she met other Ayahs and I met my girlfriends. As toddlers there was not much we could do but just hang around or play girlish games, like the Farmer's in the Dell, or catch or hopscotch, or Jo you can help me out here. Two of us would face each other hold hands to form an arch. The others would pass under the arch to the tune of a song that I cannot remember but ended with ddddddddead, we would bring our arms down and trap one of the girls.
The big hall in the middle of the garden was used for wedding receptions and concerts, and also ceremonies and other various functions. My Mum was presented with the MBE by the then Brit Resident in this hall. In the corner of the hall at the back was a wooden structure with beautiful fretwork and an elevated floor where the Arab/Muslim women would sit and watch the goings on on the main floor without being seen. To the side of this hall was Mr. Machado's office, which also served as a dressing/changing room for the actors of the concerts. SJCS held a couple of concerts here. I was the WIND in one of them. Any of you remember my late brother Edgar and the late Titus Remedios doing an act where Titus was the female and Edgar the Guy. They performed some Spanish dance together. Edgar also danced on the rim of a sombrero. I was quite proud of him, especially when he sang a Spanish song, not in Spanish but his verson of Spanish.
Since these early days of my life I had a fondness for nature and in particular plants. I recall stealing some plants. One would think that Vic gdns had the latest technology in the way of having some sort of footage of the whole area. No sooner had we pulled the plants, we heard the Mali shouting at and running towards us. With great agility we scrambled the concrete wall with our loot. My plant suffered the same fate as your catfish - it died.
Do you remember the two very old large tree with spreading branches on either side of gdn. They had some sort of teeny weeny fruit, the size of a finger nail. We called them the honey tree. We used to grab these fruit from the lower branches and eat them - sweet. Around these trees grew ferns so dense you could actually see the fronds fighting for light and space. This was a haven for your lizards, there were bigger ones - iguanas.
When we got older, boys and girls got together and we would play rounders on the front lawns.
George you have a way of triggering our memories.
Thank you
Mabel
Even the fish pond...we were warned to keep away from it as the hole at the far end drained into the ocean!
The famous bora tree near the badminton court where Mum and Dad played badminton with Dr Meneeze and his wife. Then the giant banyan tree on the left hand side on entering the Garden near Jumba Dege...with the bird weather wane on the roof beside AC Gomes' studio.
The rabbits and guinea pigs at the health Dept...I always loved going there in the evenings. The odd tombs beside the back gate of the Gardens.
Sadly I remember seeing Ranti De Silva's son's body 3 days after he drown when he went fishing. I can still see his twisted and bloated body in a deep coffin to contain his twisted body.
Please write some thing about all those burial tombs like those beside Joe Silva's /Zeno home. ..those near the Baboa tree at Kunazini...another set on the way to the market. Strange all these unusual burial tombs were razed to the ground...why?
We both see to have very vivid memories of beautiful Zbar.
Regards
Fr Lloyd
COMMENTS.
George,
Aaah Victoria Gardens, so many wonderful memories. My Ayah took me to Vic every afternoon where she met other Ayahs and I met my girlfriends. As toddlers there was not much we could do but just hang around or play girlish games, like the Farmer's in the Dell, or catch or hopscotch, or Jo you can help me out here. Two of us would face each other hold hands to form an arch. The others would pass under the arch to the tune of a song that I cannot remember but ended with ddddddddead, we would bring our arms down and trap one of the girls.
The big hall in the middle of the garden was used for wedding receptions and concerts, and also ceremonies and other various functions. My Mum was presented with the MBE by the then Brit Resident in this hall. In the corner of the hall at the back was a wooden structure with beautiful fretwork and an elevated floor where the Arab/Muslim women would sit and watch the goings on on the main floor without being seen. To the side of this hall was Mr. Machado's office, which also served as a dressing/changing room for the actors of the concerts. SJCS held a couple of concerts here. I was the WIND in one of them. Any of you remember my late brother Edgar and the late Titus Remedios doing an act where Titus was the female and Edgar the Guy. They performed some Spanish dance together. Edgar also danced on the rim of a sombrero. I was quite proud of him, especially when he sang a Spanish song, not in Spanish but his verson of Spanish.
Since these early days of my life I had a fondness for nature and in particular plants. I recall stealing some plants. One would think that Vic gdns had the latest technology in the way of having some sort of footage of the whole area. No sooner had we pulled the plants, we heard the Mali shouting at and running towards us. With great agility we scrambled the concrete wall with our loot. My plant suffered the same fate as your catfish - it died.
Do you remember the two very old large tree with spreading branches on either side of gdn. They had some sort of teeny weeny fruit, the size of a finger nail. We called them the honey tree. We used to grab these fruit from the lower branches and eat them - sweet. Around these trees grew ferns so dense you could actually see the fronds fighting for light and space. This was a haven for your lizards, there were bigger ones - iguanas.
When we got older, boys and girls got together and we would play rounders on the front lawns.
George you have a way of triggering our memories.
Thank you
Mabel
Thanks George....I can relate to the entire story of the
famous Victoria Gardens! Especially with the 'guru guru kenge' those monitor
lizards!
Even the fish pond...we were warned to keep away from it as the hole at the far end drained into the ocean!
The famous bora tree near the badminton court where Mum and Dad played badminton with Dr Meneeze and his wife. Then the giant banyan tree on the left hand side on entering the Garden near Jumba Dege...with the bird weather wane on the roof beside AC Gomes' studio.
The rabbits and guinea pigs at the health Dept...I always loved going there in the evenings. The odd tombs beside the back gate of the Gardens.
Sadly I remember seeing Ranti De Silva's son's body 3 days after he drown when he went fishing. I can still see his twisted and bloated body in a deep coffin to contain his twisted body.
Please write some thing about all those burial tombs like those beside Joe Silva's /Zeno home. ..those near the Baboa tree at Kunazini...another set on the way to the market. Strange all these unusual burial tombs were razed to the ground...why?
We both see to have very vivid memories of beautiful Zbar.
Regards
Fr Lloyd
