Christine didn’t want to feel ashamed of her father or his Indian ancestry, yet in this year at school, she had almost felt like a pariah—and she hated feeling different! Mother had suggested that she ignore the teasing and not let others think that it bothered her. She had said that the rumors and name-calling would eventually die down and that, in time, things at school would get better. Because she had fair skin, she looked white, and no one elsewhere was likely to suspect that she had any Indian ancestry. Mother had advised her not to get mad or lose her temper at school, and to just always act in the right way. If she did that, no one could fault her and she would have a clear conscience. This is what she had tried to do.
Although Sara’s remarks had apparently caused some in the dorm to think less of Christine, there were others who treated her quite well, and after all, Mother had said that it was probably not possible to be friends with everyone. She could only hope that things would go better at school in the next term.
Hopefully, Jim had not heard the rumor that she was a half-caste who was trying to pass for white. If there was anything that she liked at school, it was that she could see him, from time to time. Jim Pearson was easily the best-looking young man that she had ever seen, and in recent months, she had really become infatuated with him. Other girls also admired him for his good looks, his athletic build, and the fact that he was a good student and quite mannerly. As far as anyone knew, Jim wasn’t dating anyone, and many had remarked that he was “quite a catch!”
Christine recalled how the girls in the dorm would gather in someone’s room and talk. Frequently, the topic of boys would come up, and Jim Pearson was one who was often talked about. Christine hadn’t contributed much to those conversations, but like others, she had wondered what it would be like to be held in his arms and kissed. They had acknowledged what a great build he had, and some of them speculated about certain parts of his anatomy that they had not seen. Most of the girls acknowledged that they had fantasized about what it would be like to sleep with him. Christine had never revealed how she felt about him, but on many occasions, she had fantasized about having a loving and very intimate relationship with Jim Pearson.
Christine thought about him a lot, and she wished that she had a photograph of him. She knew that she was strongly attracted to him, and she hoped that they could become much better acquainted after the summer break. She hadn’t decided if she would mention anything about Jim to her mother. It was probably too soon for that. After all, she and Jim did not have a relationship at the present—and perhaps they would never have one. She and Mother had never discussed the subject of a serious relationship with boys, but surely her mother realized that her daughter, who was nearly eighteen, was at an age where young men were of growing interest. Mother might be rather excited for her, or she might caution her that it was too soon to be thinking about a serious relationship. Probably she would think that a serious relationship might best wait until college, or later, but it was hard to know what Mother might say.
Even without a photograph, Christine could picture Jim’s handsome face in her mind. She could never forget his engaging smile and how his dark eyes sparkled. She remembered his dark hair and eyebrows—and his incredible eyelashes! She recalled his clear complexion and his masculine athletic build which she and her dorm mates had found so appealing. She recalled how they fantasized about his body and acknowledged what an amazing male he was. She was beginning to entertain some romantic thoughts of him when her attention was drawn to an elderly Shangaan man who was walking along the road near their house.
“Xe weni, Mu Shangaaniana,” he said, giving her a big smile as he was passing by. Christine smiled pleasantly. “Xe weni,” she replied, as the elderly man continued on his way. Christine watched him going down the hill until he reached the distant hut that was his home. Heat waves shimmered from the rise upon which the mission station was located. In the distance, one could see the broad valley that was green because of the river that meandered lazily through the area as it made its way to the Indian Ocean. That river was neither as large nor as dangerous as the Limpopo River, which was further to the south. One had to use an old ferry when crossing the Limpopo, and that could be a hazardous experience when the river was flooding. Christine had crossed the river a couple of times when it was flooding, and the crossing had been a terrifying experience! Because of the age and condition of the old ferry, she had come to dread every crossing of the river. Nevertheless, she had crossed the river many times when she was making a trip to or from Swaziland and also on those occasions when she and Mother had made a trip to or from Lourenço Marques, the capital of Mozambique, which many folks simply called LM.
Christine had accompanied her mother on many trips, and she had come to believe that LM must be one of the most beautiful and interesting cities in the world. Fondly, she recalled memories of the city’s harbor and a variety of ships which they had seen there. Many had come from distant ports or exotic places that she had never heard of. Once, when they had visited the city, they had boarded a ship called the Cape Town Castle. She recalled that the ship had seemed huge, and the crew members had seemed very friendly. When she was about four, she had accompanied her mother on a freighter when she had gone on a furlough to the United States. She had enjoyed the trip and remembered that the crew had given her a lot of attention. She had only vague memories of visiting various places in the United States, and she remembered certain relatives there only because her mother had taken a few photographs of them during her furlough. She recalled that her mother had later said that she was concerned about their return trip to Africa because a great war was occurring in Europe, at the time, but the voyage back to Africa went without incident, and they soon returned to the familiar routines that they had known in Mozambique.
It seemed likely that when she had completed her education at St. Mark’s, she would go somewhere to college. Several of her classmates were expecting to continue their education in England, but it seemed likely that Christine would pursue further education somewhere in the United States. She really didn’t know much about that distant country, but she knew that her mother had a number of relatives in Michigan and in other parts of the USA. She knew, however, that her visits to LM and her early voyage to America had whetted her appetite to travel. There were countless places in the world that she hoped to see, but she had no idea as to how she would ever accomplish this goal.
As she recalled LM, she could visualize the busy harbor and the waterfront, and she remembered the steep streets that went uphill from the harbor area. LM was a very cosmopolitan city with many kinds of ethnic shops and restaurants. She and her mother had dined in Portuguese, Indian, and Chinese restaurants, and they had browsed in shops that sold fascinating kinds of merchandise. They had done a lot of window-shopping, as Mother called it, along the Avenida Lisboa, and they had also shopped a bit in some of the city’s largest bazaars. Christine had come to realize that she liked stylish clothing, elegant jewelry, exotic Oriental carpets, and lovely household furnishings. In fact, she loved many kinds of beautiful things, and she had come to realize that such things are often very expensive. In their browsing, Christine had discovered that nearly everything was unaffordable. Her mother had stated that such things would not bring one happiness, but Christine was not so sure about that. Quite truthfully, Christine had felt that she would like to have nice things in her life, someday, and the more, the better! She dared not reveal this desire to her mother, however, for Mother’s ideas and opinions could sometimes be quite different from her own.
When they had gone to LM, they had often stayed for two or three days. A visit there made a nice change from their routine activities in Tavani. They never stayed in expensive hotels, but Mother would usually splurge and have at least one nice meal at one of the city’s finest hotels. Their favorite place to eat was in a lovely dining room at the elegant Hotel Vasco Da Gama. Mother always requested a table by a window so that they could enjoy the view that was beautiful by day, and breathtaking