One Face in a Million Book 1: Mu Shangaaniana. William Bond
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recalled on other occasions, Mother had reminded her that the missionaries’ facilities were “much better that what the Shangaans have,” and there was no doubt about that!
Nevertheless, Christine had seen various magazines at school, and she recalled one particular photo of a bathroom that had gleaming white porcelain fixtures in an area that appeared to have walls and floors made of dark marble. In a mirrored alcove, there had been a sunken tub that seemed more like a sunken pool than a bathtub. Nearby, there had been luxuriant leafy plants and an ornate gilded cage containing some exotic birds, and on the dark marble floor there had been a lovely tiger’s skin which served as a rug. She had yet to see such a bathroom in person, but apparently, they existed, and she couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to live in a home that had a bathroom like that.
The fanciest home that she had visited was in Johannesburg. She had accompanied Mother there on an occasion that involved church business. The home had a beautiful formal garden, and the furnishings in the house were the finest that she had ever seen. She recalled that the bathroom had white porcelain fixtures, and the lower part of the walls were covered with white tiles while the black-and-white-tiled floor had a pattern that resembled a checkerboard. She had no idea how expensive it would be to have such a nice home, but that wasn’t going to keep her from dreaming! As she used the warm water in a nearby pail to rinse herself, she found herself hoping that, one day, she could live in a home that was full of conveniences and luxuries.
After she had stepped out of the tub and dried off, she returned to her room and put on the clothes that she planned to wear for the day. She worked with her hair until it met her satisfaction, and then, she unlocked the front and back doors. She made a necessary trip to the outhouse, and after she had returned to the kitchen, she washed her hands and proceeded to tidy up. Before long, she had emptied the bathwater outside and returned the tub and the pails to the place where she had found them.
Having completed her morning routine, she proceeded into the front room. The Christmas tree failed to inspire her, for the tree’s decorations looked so dated, and the other decorations in the room looked more forlorn than festive. Christmas was tomorrow, but Christine still had no sense of expectation or excitement. To pass some time, she seated herself at the piano and played several of her favorite Christmas carols.
As she was playing, she recalled the Christmas which they had spent in Michigan back in 1916. She could remember that her grandparents’ Christmas tree had been beautifully decorated. She recalled that snow covered the ground there at that time of year, and it had even snowed on Christmas Eve. It was the only time that she had experienced snow at Christmas, but she remembered that she had liked it. Suddenly, she had an inspiration!
She hurried to a hall closet where certain things were kept, and she rummaged around until she found what she wanted. She then took these things into her room, closed her door, and began to work excitedly on a project that had just come to mind. It was hard to keep things from Mother, but she knew that her little project would only be a success if she managed to keep it a surprise.
Christine worked industriously for a couple of hours and then decided that she ought to put things away before Mother came home for lunch. She soon closed the door to her room, set the table for lunch, and was playing the piano when Mother arrived home just before noon. They greeted each other, and then, Christine joined her Mother in the kitchen.
“Is there something I can do to help?” she asked.
“Lunch will be easy,” Mother replied. “I’m going to use some leftover chicken from last night, and I’ll make us some mulligatawny soup. I’ll get a fire going, and lunch should be ready shortly.”
The soup was seasoned with Indian curry, and it was something that Christine had always enjoyed. They’d had it many times, over the years, and Christine had been told that it was one of her father’s favorite meals. The soup was believed to have originated in India, and because her father had liked it, mulligatawny soup had become a kind of tangible connection with her father and her Indian ancestry.
Within a few minutes, they sat down to enjoy their tasty soup and some leftover pie.
Mother indicated that she ought to spend a little more time at the health-care facility, so Christine said that she would do the dishes. She gave no indication, however, that she was glad that her mother would be gone for a few hours.
After Mother had departed to the health-care facility, Christine cleared the table, put the leftovers in the kerosene-generated refrigerator, and heated some water on the still-warm woodstove. After the water was sufficiently heated, she washed things in a dishpan, rinsed things in a different pan, and dried them with a towel before putting things away. She then poured the rinse water into the dishpan, opened the kitchen door, and tossed the used water out onto the ground. With her chores completed, she returned to her room where she worked at her project for a couple of hours.
Then, before Mother returned home, she put things away and was again playing the piano when her mother returned home in the late afternoon. Mother acknowledged that she didn’t feel like making a big meal, so for dinner, they had the rest of the mulligatawny soup and the last servings of the banana cream pie.
That evening, many people living in the area attended a Christmas Eve service which was held at the mission’s little church. The Bostwicks were not there, of course, but Ms. Ferguson and the Rankins were present and a good number of Shangaans showed up in their colorful attire. Mr. Rankin was in charge of the service, and both the Shangaan children and adults seemed fascinated as he used small painted figures from a nativity scene to explain the Christmas story.
From time to time, Christine had glanced at Sara and her mother who sat across the aisle and somewhat ahead of her. Both of them had smiled pleasantly at her when they had arrived at church, but such smiles could be deceptive. There seemed to be no indication of problems that simmered beneath the surface. It was rumored that Nell Rankin resented Clara Cartwright because Clara had better relations with the local people. Mother had a better command of the local languages, and because of her experience, she had more authority than any of the other missionaries at Tavani. Perhaps Sara’s unkind words and malicious teasing at school were based on jealousy of Christine, just as Nell may have been jealous of Mother.
As she looked at Sara, Christine could see that her one-time friend had certainly put on some weight. Her appearance also suffered because of the way that she had chosen to pull her blonde hair into a tight little bun at the back of her head. Was Sara trying to look more grown-up with her hair fixed that way? Christine felt that Sara’s frumpish hairstyle was very unbecoming. In truth, she felt Sara looked more like a spinster than a schoolgirl.
Had Sara picked up her attitude from her mother? No doubt, it was at home that Sara had heard that Christine’s father was half Indian. The rumors about Christine being a half-caste had to start somewhere, and no doubt they had started at home! Had Nell Rankin encouraged Sara to behave as she had? That was a real possibility. It was also possible that Sara was not happy with her own appearance, and belittling Christine had somehow made her feel better. The boys at school had not shown much interest in Sara, and in reality, Christine thought her own figure, hairstyle, and complexion were much better than Sara’s. It seemed likely that Sara was jealous of her old Tavani friend, and she had been trying to make herself feel better by making her old friend seem worse.
Later, Mother played the piano and led the singing of several carols that were, of course, sung in Shangaan. The local people really loved singing the Shangaan version of “Joy to the World,” and as they sang, Christine hoped that she and Mother didn’t have to walk back home with the Rankins. In the past, she and Sara had spent countless hours together during the holidays and throughout the weeks of their summer vacation, but Christine had no desire to spend time with her old friend. It was hard to forgive someone who had purposely criticized her appearance and said things that were intended to hurt her reputation. She wondered if she and Sara would ever be friends again. It didn’t seem likely. So much depended upon how things went after they had returned to school. Christine had liked to think that she was a forgiving person, but she had felt that Sara should offer some kind of apology, and she had offered no apologies at all. She felt that Sara needed to act like a friend and not an antagonist!