![]() The few black-and-white pictures taken by some did not do justice to the island, revealing nothing of its paradise-like beauty. Some 1000 people lived there permanently. There are some interesting legends tied to the butt-shape of the nut which I knew nothing about at the time.īack in 1951, very few people visited the place apart from government officials. Today, the island is world renowned for its beautiful beaches, expensive hotels, the Vallée de Mai (Mai Valley) natural park known for the endemic black parrot found nowhere else in the world and the oddly-shaped coco de mer. ![]() Some 40 kilometres from Mahé is the beautiful island of Praslin. To this day, every time I attend a funeral the memory of that game of hide and seek floats back into the recesses of my mind. If I remember correctly, he explained that many families had coffins made in preparation for the death of elderly members of families at a time when there were no such things as funeral parlours. Mr Stravens explained that he had the coffins made for his ageing mother who lived with the family. I stepped out sheepishly and climbed the stair down only to be met by the laughter of parents and kids. He switched the electric light on and I realised for the first time that I had been hiding and sleeping in a coffin. I pushed the lid aside, sat up, and Mr Stravens burst out laughing. Suddenly someone opened the door of the attic and called. Thinking that the game was till going on I kept quiet. I must have fallen asleep because time went by un-noticed until I was awakened by voices shouting my name over and over. On checking I noticed that I could push the lid of the box aside, which I did and slid into the box pulling the lid back, leaving room for some light and air. In the semi-darkness I spotted a long box in a corner. ![]() I had never been up there before but thought that the seeker would not think that any boy would hide up there. Looking for a place to hide I climbed a staircase that led to the attic of the Stravens’ house. But I am writing about it because of what occurred once. All the kids of the land played that game. This would go on and on until there was one last kid who counted loud to fifty while the others would scatter and hide. The kid on whom the last word fell walked out of the circle. Il y a des voleurs alouette tin tin alouettes virez ” ![]() « La haut dans manioque il y a des voleurs. En faisant sa barbe il a coupé son menton. “ C’est le koki caille, c’est le roi des papillon. The rhyme that stuck in my mind and which I am sure I do not understand to this day was: We gathered in a circle and one of us would recite a nursery rhyme touching each kid in turn as he said each word of the rhyme. However, invariably the afternoon ended with hide and seek. Walking around, playing marbles, football with a small red-coloured sponge ball. While the parents talked, the kids did what kids enjoyed doing most. My brothers and I looked forward to the event because the three Stravens boys – Josen, Eri, and Jourdan – were of our age and also because the Sabadin boys, who lived not too far, would often join us for games. Sometimes, Joseph Stravens and his wife Micheline would invite our family for Sunday lunch. Domestic A small boy’s memories of the Seychelles (Part II) | By Eddy Johnson (based in Sydney, Australia)įollowing the publication of the story ‘A small boy’s memories of the Seychelles’ in the Apissue of Seychelles NATION, the author – Eddy Johnson – has sent some more ‘memories’ that followed those narrated in the first part of the story, culminating with his journey back to Mauritius… ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |