It’s a Namibian Thing XII

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Here is a picture of the main entrance to Oranjemund’s primary school. This was the first proper educational institution I and all the children born at Oranjemund went to after nursery school. I can still remember my first year there and how bad I was at math! I recall the names of the classmates who like me were in awe of going to ‘big’ school for the first time. We were like rabbits transfixed wide-eyed by the headlights of an approaching car. I loved school. And I was an absolute stickler for punctuality. Still am!

As I look at this photo, many memories come flooding back to me. I remember the rich red terracotta colour of the quadrangle. The cool polished corridors.I t was the inner sanctum and off it was the assembly hall that doubled up as the gymnasium with its climbing ropes and the trampolines. Then there were (still are), the admin offices,with the headmaster’s (Mr Venter) office and other classrooms.

The auditorium was off the quad too. This was where we watched old b&w history movies (probably indoctrination/anti-black propaganda) about the Groot Trek, Oom Paul Kruger etc and also where we were taught by Mrs Schmidt and Mr Steyn the vice-principal and italic writing by our Art teacher. There was also Mrs Schmidt’s and Mrs Wolfardt’s proper classrooms off the quad too which had to relocate to the new classrooms outside of the school proper alongside the tennis and netball courts. There was a toilet block as well close by these new classrooms.

But it was the redbrick school proper that I am most fond of. And Mrs Schmidt. She has left an everlasting memory with me for which I am most grateful. She showed extreme kindness, understanding and care toward me and my classmates. And in his way so did the PE teacher Mr Van Der Merwe. He knew I was an acute asthma sufferer but never prevented me from participating in sport or exercise that might bring on an attack. He encouraged me to take part and pushed me to succeed just as he did the other boys in the class. We were treated as equals.

Ventolin spray was not available in those days and so if I did incur an attack which happened often, it was up to me alone to work it out and get calmed down to let the asthma wear off. Maybe this is where I learned the importance of patience.

I also learnt here at the Oranjemund school that black people were talented too. And it did not come as a major revelation from the heavens! I recall walking into the art room one day and seeing amazing paintings of gemsbok on sack cloth. I was dropjawed by it and inspected each painting in great detail. I was struck by the simplicity and economic use of colour by Gideon (the artist) that made the animals leap out from the sack cloth ‘canvas’.

As I recall Gideon predominantly used white and a dark pastel powdry blue with a splash of black and light beige. I do not recall any reds, yellows or greens. All I know is that his works trandsformed the art room into a magic place for me. And I was always hanging around to talk to him. That he didn’t just summararily dismiss me is testament to his humbleness and affection for his work and a young runt showing an avid interest in the magic he created. He was the first artist I met and the first works of art I looked at which had been created by an artist I could see and talk to. All other art I saw was in textbooks and magazines. But here I was in the company of a true artist who lived and worked (as assistant to our Art teacher) just there. Very close to where I spent a large part of my very young days.

I have tried to no avail to track down what hapened to Gideon. If you know what happened to him, please leave a message. Afterall, such talent should not go unrecognised. It’s a Namibian thing.

I have been away too long. I will be back. I need to get earthed again.

It’s a Namibian Thing XII