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Times to remember Episode 3 - Page 04
Written by Frank Leslie Boswell   
Sunday, 10 July 2011 16:59
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African knowledge of Western Civilization in the Fifties

I like many others regarded them, as having an inferior knowledge for some of the following reasons. I had a labourer and he firmly believed that by pushing against the dashboard of our panel van he was able to prevent the vehicle from being stuck in the mud. Every time he would push against the dashboard I would depress the accelerator and of course if he stopped pushing I would release the pressure on the accelerator. Seeing someone busy sawing the branch of a tree but sitting on the side that is being cut off to me was mind-boggling. Then there was an electrician’s assistant who after lengthy training could wire a house on his own. He started taking home the necessary to provide his residence with electricity. With all the switches on he could not understand why nothing worked as he was under the impression that the main circuit breaker supplied the power. Recruits for the mines were taught to use a spade. The list can go on and on.

After working with a construction gang and at times employing up to fifty additional temporary labourers I realized that I could not judge others by using my norm as a yardstick.

Wrong impressions

District Six (Zonnebloem) a suburb of Cape Town that was demolished in the sixties. To day possibly still one of the most hotly debated topics. In 1952 I worked there for the six months. During that six months tools were stolen from my truck, I worked in a brothel with its entrance concealed behind clothing in a Dry Cleaning shop, watched gambling in the back lanes with the smell of Dagga in the air, seen young girls sitting on the pavement displaying their wares to act as a decoy, saw the biggest fight ever between two rival gangs that brought the traffic to standstill in Hanover Street and some of the balconies were no longer in use as they were near collapsing.

With this type of information one would support its demolition, but if we flip the coin the picture changes. The earnings of the coloured community in District Six were very low which can account for the badly neglected buildings. Not once did I feel threatened even when working there after dark. They not only had a great respect for the police but the nurses working shifts at the hospital would have their bags carried to and from Cape Town Station. The houses were clean inside and you were always offered something to drink. Their shops were owned by Malays, Jews etc. with the greatest respect for each other and were also renowned for their bargains. The crawfish legs sold at their fish market in Hanover Street those years were thicker than your finger. They had a language of their own which kept you entertained for hours. They also gave us the Coon Carnival celebrated every year on the 2nd January. The craftsmanship that went into the construction of most of the buildings is something of the past. I maintain that if these buildings were restored District Six would have been one of Cape Town’s biggest tourist attractions.



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