How Other Women Live

Manawatu Times, Volume 63, Issue 45, 23 February 1938, Page 14

How Other Women Live

TMAGINE her environment! Mountainous country, fine scenery, little villages nestling among palm groves and rice fields, and, all round, plantations where tea shrubs appear to grow out of the very rock itself. Work on the estate begins at daybreak. The planter rises at dawn to attend the muster of coolies near the factory at the sound of the tom-tom. He returns to the bungalow for chotahazari, or little breakfast, after which he goes off to the job again. Tea, fruit and biscuits or toast make u* chotahazari. The planter’s wi .e has hers leisurely, and she may go for a ride afterwards because the country is ideal for riding. The real business of the day begins for her with a visit to the store-room, where the supplies of groceries and tinned foods obtained from Colombo or from England are kept. Here she dispenses foodstuffs and household requirements, interviews the cook, and arranges the meals for the day. Her next duty is to go the round of the bungalow with the head boy in attendance, after which it is the gardener’s turn. He takes his instructions while she inspects the vegetable and flower gardens, and gathers sufficient flowers for the vases, which have to be renewed daily. If the estate runs to a poultry yard and a cowshed, these also are visited. So the morning passes, until it is time for breakfast at 11 o’clock —a combined meal which does away with midday lunch as we know it. The servants are Singalese or Hindus—a cook, a head boy, a second boy, various coolies and an ayah. All have a smattering of the English language, and the cook can read recipes and follow them with more or less success. After much patient instruction, he has learned to excel in pastry and bread-making, though he often fails when it comes to soups. A chicken is his idea of a dish his employer v/ill enjoy. Local stores are prohibitive in so far as most foodstuffs are concerned, and fresh meat is the beef coolies’ job to procure. Twice he steps it to the nearest town, perhaps 20 miles away, with a large box on his head, and brings back on the same evening supplies of meat and perhaps a few groceries which the planter’s wife must inspect next morning. * the bungalow is modern, and most are these days, it is equipped with electric light and other joys of civilisation — a cooking range, a sink, hot and cold water and so on. But the trouble lies in getting an experienced and good cook to adapt himself j modern ideas. He prefers father-grandfather ways, and so do most of the other servants. The ayah who looks after the children is entirely faithful, but she too loves grandmother ways, and so does the podian who waits on her and the children. The planter’s wife’s great task is to keep her staff up to date, to introduce new methods and new equipment, to preach and see practised the laws of hygiene in a company who, at heart, consider all new ways heretic.

Lite On A Tea Plantation

ments and confidences in return, regardless of place, circumstances or character. One of the most awkward places for dealing with such conversations is at the back of a car, when talkative honoured guest is in front beside the driver. Friend at the back, who longs to enjoy "the air, the scenery, or the mere pleasure of being carried along without effort has to lean forward and strain her ears to listen to an incessant flow of speech from honoured guest. The driver is also expected to contribute by backing up every speech with witty remarks. Talkative honoured guest does not see much of her surroundings, but what she does sec is commented upon in parenthesis, and wedged in between a detailed account of what he said and what she said. If friend at the back lapses into silence, to enjoy the beauties of the country side, or merely to rest her aching muscles, talkative guest becomes skittishly personal. “Friend’s very noisy to-day,” she smiles, or “Friend’s lost her tongue,” or “Friend’s thinking of somebody.” Actually she thinks friend is in a glum mood, has something up against her, or is criticising her hat or her hair. She would be utterly amazed, and probably offended for life, if friend said quite simply, “Be quiet for two minutes.” To be quiet at the right moment is an art, and if it is not a natural one it should be cultivated. We do not like people less, nor are we lacking interest in them, because we can remain in their pi'esence without talking all the time. In the silences which follow speech, we communicate spiritually with one another. Women who chatter incessantly do not give their friends a chance to get anything from them but words, and /ords alone become boring after a time. It is difficult to keep up an incessant conversation when eating, and probably

for this reason meals have always been a favourite form of entertainment. But when driving with anyone, there is nothing to keep the mouth shut but inclination, art, or mutual consent. One champion talker can spoil everything for the rest of the occupants of a car, and, as great talkers are often good natured, though rather thoughtless, nobody like* to drop the hint, and say gently, ‘Please be quiet.”