February’s challenge for Self-Portrait Tuesday doesn’t officially begin until Wednesday, but this entry could fit under either challenge—Personal History or “all of me.”
When I was little my mum use to dress my sister and I like twins. We did everything together. One memory I have of us was when I was around 11 and she 12. It was school break and we were staying with Dad’s half brother whom we had never met prior to this visit. Uncle had two daughters around the same age—my sister and I should have gotten on well with them but we didn’t. Staying with them was like living with Cinderella’s step sisters and their mother. One day my sister purchased a packet of sanitary pads, and as we didn’t want to tell the mother (or daughters) that one of us was menstruating, we kept the pads well concealed in a brown paper bag. One of the daughters espied us and then narked about the bag to her mother. She told how we were stashing lollies in the bag and how we weren’t sharing them. Being the numb Maoris that we were, we were too dumb to defend ourselves and in return the mother blasted her rocker and ordered us O-U-T out! We thought it was a good idea too. Little did we realise though that the real fun was just about to begin.
We caught the next coach back home (a two and a half hour ride). Unfortunately the bus that day only went to Te Araroa (a small town on the very tip of New Zealand’s North East Cape) and not to our destination which was Hicks Bay (an even smaller town about 10kms away). And from Hicks Bay was another drive on an unsealed road to our home on a station farm. We were devastated. To add to that we had no money, not even enough to make a phone call. I suggested that we act normal so as to not bring attention to ourselves because the freaking out was starting to turn heads. We then brainstormed what we should do and the best we could come up with was to spend the night in town. The sun was going down and to walk, let alone hitch a ride to Hicks Bay on the road was out of the question—I had heard stories of girls getting raped on the roads and had to use that as a form of persuasion to keep us grounded. It’s amazing how these stories that you hear, even though they may be tales, can scare the heck out of one in situations like this. But where could we stay? We were not from these parts and had no relatives. The nearest relative was a friend, the Bishop, who lived in Hicks Bay. My sister suggested we head for the beach. We walked to the beach with our luggage in hand like two scared little girls and when we got there we plopped to the sand. My sister said that we would be safe on the beach but then I remembered that it was a Saturday and that the area would sure lure party-goers, which meant booze and scary looking blokes. She had the crazy idea of digging into the sand and burying ourselves so no-one could see us, but my 11 year old mind didn’t buy it. The beach then was not safe. I scanned the area for some time and then focused my eyes upward. We were going to head for the cliff and sleep overnight in the brush. She thought I was even more crazy and made a big stinker but it must have been a better idea than hers because she followed me.
Our small luggage was smaller than the size of one’s plane cabin luggage and it also wasn’t that heavy. At least not until one walks a fair bit. We had to walk over sand then rocks to get to where the climb was. I remembered my sister was not a good climber—she freaked out alot and wanted to give up. She even said something about how she was going to fall into the water if she took another step, so I had to pull her up and eventually push her up. I have no idea how far we climbed but one day I would like to go back and walk the path we took. I can’t remember the climb being scary but I remember that my mind was thinking of only one thing. Up.
By the time we made it up it was dark. We pushed ahead through the scrub and found a place to sleep for the night under a group of sheltered brush. We put warm clothes on but still we shivered. I remember my sister crying and saying that we were going to die now from the cold. I wanted to cry too. We said a heartfelt prayer hoping to God that He would let us live. After our prayer an idea came into my head that if we cuddled each other tight our bodies would warm us. We did, and it did. We could hear strange animal sounds and we tried not to imagine them belonging to monsters. We said another quick prayer that our eyes would get sleepy. The next thing I remember it was morning.
My father was a fencer and I remember him saying that if one got lost in the wilderness all they need do was to find a fence line and follow it. So I looked for a fence line. It didn’t take long to find one because we could hear a car and all we had to do was follow the sound. Not many cars were on the road Sunday morning but we dared not walk it. Instead we walked the fence line which was in close proximity to the road, in the direction of Hicks Bay. It took all morning to finally get to Hicks Bay and judging the position of the sun we figured it was noon. The Bishop lived on the main road but we knew he wouldn’t be home from church yet. There was a school nearby and I knew there was a water fountain there. We headed for the school, found the fountain and drunk our little hearts out. When we were rested we then headed for the Bishop’s house. I remember being embarrassed about showing up on the steps in our state so I left the rest to my sister—who had the gift of the gab.
Bishop called my parents and found that they were in Hamilton visiting my brothers who were at boarding school. We stayed with Bishop until their return. Needless to say I don’t remember the rest only that I enjoyed eating homemade cookies and that my father yelled alot on the phone. I gathered he was thanking his brother.
