A Memorable Guest In More Ways Than One.

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Jürgen the German on the other hand was a loud bombastic, no good piece of work. Jürgen arrived in November of that year and I believe he was supposed to stay with us for the duration of his six month contract, as it turned out he was to stay only six weeks. Jürgen was what is today known as a party animal. All our other visitors returned home after work and seldom if ever went out until the early hours of the morning, Jürgen made up for all the others. 

From the moment he arrived he was in party mood and was never there for dinner in the dining room, he would arrive home change and leave immediately in his car, he was also the only visitor that had his own car, the others always relied on my father to chauffeur them around. So Jürgen was staying at the house when the great trek for Durban made its obligatory December arrival. 

Hubby had decided not to join us that year in view of the fact that she had a new born baby to take care off, so we ventured into the unknown with the idea that we would employ a local for the duration of our visit. So Hubby stayed home to look after Jürgen and the rest of the family set of for Durban in the time honoured way. Nothing really changed, except my mother and definitely us kids missed having Hubby along. As the Hilton Heights was and still is a self-catering and self-cleaning establishment, it was imperative that my mother got help, so as to enjoy her holiday. She was half successful as she was able to find someone to keep the place clean, but not someone who was willing to look after three children so it was left to her to keep us occupied at all times and to watch over us at the beach. A full time job I am sure.

During that holiday mother was always tired and for the first time in our lives rather abrupt with us kids, also there were many times that she would drift away, sort of gathering wool in her head, if you know what I mean. At the time I thought that it was because we kids tired her out every day with our constant demands and bickering. I now realise it was because she had started to suspect that my father was being unfaithful to her. I think that holiday was the beginning of the end of my parents’ marriage. 

As all good times have to come to an end, so did this holiday, and the day arrived that we said good-bye to the ocean, collected Hubby’s sea water and turned our attention to the long journey home. Our arrival home was a memorable one. We arrived at our usual hour to a house that looked as if it had been turned into a place of ill-repute. The kitchen was a clutter of dirty plates, pots, half filled with the ingredients for germ warfare, stood forlornly on the stove. The lounge and dining room area was strewn with discarded women’s undergarments and the tables were littered with the drained bodies of alcohol bottles and my mother’s best crystal glasses. 

The rest of the house had the forlorn attitude of an overworked bordello. The best was saved for last, hidden in the shower cubicle in the bathroom. Someone who had attended the party that Jürgen had thrown had obviously had far too much to drink, paralytic would be the condition that he had drunk himself into, I say, himself, as it seemed to me at that age that a lady would not have been capable of what was left in the shower. For in the middle of the shower floor was the vomit and excrement that somebody had left, blocking the drain. Hubby was sitting in the kitchen sobbing, trying to explain to my parents what had happened while we had been absent from the house, but as she was sobbing so violently she did not make any sense at all. 

Ultimately the story emerged, it seems that we had barely left the house when Jürgen took control, and ordered Hubby out of the house as he did not need to have a “Schwartz” to look after him nor spy on him. So Hubby took refuge in her room and avoided the house. The parties had started small, and Hubby had cleaned up after he had left for work. Progressively the parties had become wilder and wilder until the weekend that we had arrived back. The damage had taken two nights to accomplish starting on Friday night and ending at around lunch on the Sunday that we returned, so she had not had the time to clean in time for our arrival and that she was sorry and that my parents could fire her as she had not done her job as promised. 

After assuring her that there was no question of firing her, things sort of quietened down and Hubby and my mother started to put the house into some sort of shape. Hubby tackled the kitchen my mother the lounge and dining rooms, what happened to all the underwear is still a mystery. We never saw Jürgen again, we were sent to bed and I can only presume that my father had Jürgen’s things packed, who packed I also do not know, for certain it was not him. What happened when Jürgen returned I have never been able to discover, needless to say he was given his belongings and told in no uncertain terms to take a long walk of a very short pier. That ended the brief but memorable visit of Jürgen the German. 

It was my first lesson in human nature, all my life I had been told that white people were civilized, and that the natives were not, well here was the so called civilized European behaving far worse than the most primitive savage and all his so called civilized friends doing the same, compared to the dignity of Hubby, a native, who had tried so hard to hide the depravity of these reprobates.

Lots of Hugs and more

Peggy-Sven

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