Confessions of a Technophobe, New Series 9
When I was growing up, I would often hear older people complain that the youngsters of my generation were running wild and that the disciplines they were brought up to obey when they were young, made them what they were – fine outstanding citizens, models of society etc., etc.
All too often I would observe those people and thank goodness that my generation wasn’t being brought up in the same stiff upper-lip rigidity of the late Victorian era. Years later as we produced our own children, we were faced with the dilemma of choosing the right path for their development. My wife Hero and I agreed that the unbending autocratic discipline imposed on many of our generation, even though our seniors thought we were wild, either resulted in a rebellion by their children or produced a cowed and insecure individual who had been terrified into submission.
Having said that, we took a good look at both sets of our parents. Neither of them really slotted into a typical style of their generation. In terms of their background and heritage, they could not have been more different. Hero’s parents were part of the Greek Cypriot community in Johannesburg. My father was basically English (with an originally Danish surname) as well as dollops of Scots, Irish and American thrown in. My mother was born in Bloemfontein, South Africa with a Ukrainian father and a South African mother of Irish origin.
Despite my multi-faceted ancestry, my early childhood before leaving for South Africa at age 10 was essentially English. Having been born in 1936, I was only three when World War II broke out, so that the years before we left for South Africa were heavily over-shadowed by wartime England. In many respects it was Britain’s finest hour. The odds against beating the might of the German forces were slight. Despite that, the morale of the Brits was remarkable. This started with gruff old men taking a pitchfork and vowing mayhem should the “Boche” land on our island. It filtered down to the brave men who went to war singing patriotic songs and the women who filled their jobs on the home front.
I was evacuated four times due to our home’s proximity to Vickers Armstrong, an important aircraft factory and prime target for enemy bombers. Whether I was at home in Weybridge or safely out of range of bombs in Devon, Wales, the Midlands or Scotland, my Britishness was inculcated into everything I did. I was being groomed as an English gentleman with all the quirky rules attached to that lifestyle. For example I should always tilt my soup plate away from me, not towards me when finishing my soup or porridge. I must never put milk in tea until after the tea was poured. Never speak until spoken to, etc. Good etiquette was considered vital. There were endless do’s and don’ts – but on the positive side, the year we spent travelling across Europe and down Africa gave me glorious freedom from schooling and the opportunity to observe other nations and cultures. I rarely encountered children of my age and lived in an almost entirely adult world.
Once in South Africa, it was back to the best schools available, which were mostly modelled on the English “Public Schools.” However, my father having realized that the large inheritance he was expecting from my grandfather would not materialize, had now embarked on a thoroughly unorthodox career path. After a short stint in real estate in Cape Town, he bought the rights to an ammoniated dental powder which promised to do wonders for the teeth. Without any money for marketing, he filled his car with bottles of the powder and travelled thousands of miles, visiting virtually every dentist in South Africa and leaving samples with them. It paid off and he built a nice little business – until with a complete rush of blood to the head he bought a fishing trawler based at the port of Walvis Bay, the only port for Namibia (then South West Africa). The pilchard fishing industry was thriving at the time. My dad actually signed on as crew to learn the business. He endured this incredibly tough job for two years before he became a “shore skipper.” which meant remaining ashore and making sure the trawler was seaworthy, fully refueled and provisioned. Then when the boat returned with fish, he would supervise the offloading of the cargo at one of the fish factories.
When I left my poshest of posh schools, my dad, who had an odd sense of humor, decided that I should experience how the other half lived. He set up a fish and chip shop, the first in Namibia, and put me in charge! The contrast between the rarefied atmosphere of my elite school and the obnoxious smell of fish and chips permeating all my clothes was quite extreme. In fact, it was a good move. For all his talk about my being an English gentleman, that belonged to a past era and running a fish and chip shop brought me down quite few pegs. I think my dad also became less of a snob during his years in Walvis Bay. He even opened a barber shop and with deference to the large German community, called it “Herr Dresser’s.”
How did this affect my upbringing? I hardly ever saw my parents while I was at Michaelhouse (arguably the best private school in the country). It created a typically British “arm’s length” relationship with my parents. A brief handshake from my dad and a nervous hug from my mum was the way I was greeted when we met. This I considered normal until in 1965 I was married into the Greek Cypriot Community.
From British “stiff upper lip” to an obsessively family-oriented society was a huge culture shock. Hero and I were expected to remain in constant contact with her family. Her parents Zac and Athena lived in Mozambique. Zac was a Doctor of Chemistry where he had three factories and was a wealthy man until the Frelimo Communists overran the country and took much of his wealth. We only saw her parents occasionally but her aunts, uncles and cousins were spread around Johannesburg. We were often invited to visit one or more of them at least once a week. This was accompanied by hugs and kisses, tables overloaded with delicious food and often Greek dancing after dinner.
I was always included in the hugs and kisses but was then almost completely ignored, as the rest of the party spoke a mix of English and Greek and caught up on the latest gossip. When I did try to have a sensible conversation with one of the men, they had the habit of listening to what I had to say for a couple of minutes and then telling me how things really were. This even extended to the film industry. Guys who were engineers or owned a supermarket would happily explain to me how movies should be made. If I spoke politics which interested me, they told me how I had got it all wrong. It was never done with any animosity. They were always friendly enough in a somewhat bombastic way.
Much later I learned two things. Firstly, they were intimidated by my Englishness and thought me to be aloof and superior, when in fact I simply didn’t know how to relate to them. Then, secondly, my father-in-law when asked what I did for a living would laugh and reply that I didn’t actually work but fooled around with movies. This didn’t help my standing in the community and angered me as I frequently put in fifteen-hour days, often seven days a week and even working through the night on occasions.
Over the years this awkward relationship between myself and the Greek community mellowed and I developed some really good friendships with Cypriots of my age. I think another element of their initial reaction to me was the fact that Hero was considered to be one of the most eligible ladies in the community. She was the daughter of leaders of the community, but she ended up marrying an “Xenos”. I eventually asked what that meant and Hero told me it meant foreigner. Tongue in cheek I replied “I can’t be a bloody foreigner, I’m an Englishman!” That went down like a lead balloon.
How did this strange mix of cultures affect my children? Overall, I think it worked very well. I’m extremely proud of all four of them.
The eldest, Jason, is now turning 57. He is an Outside Broadcast Production Manager for Sky TV in the UK after many years as a cameraman. He married Sheryldene Kapp, an Afrikaans girl from Bloemfontein (incidentally also where my mother was born). He and Sherri have settled very well into Britain. They have a son, Andrew, who now lives and works in Northern Ireland and a younger son, Matthew, in his last year at school before he hopes to go to university to study engineering.
Tanya is 55. She ran a very successful catering and events company in Durban, South Africa, specializing in sporting events. Unfortunately, ill health has curtailed that occupation, but her partner Kevin has been a wonderfully caring person. She is in very good hands. She had three children by a previous husband. The eldest, Cameron, tragically died at 13 but Cara, now 26, and Kyle, 24, are both doing well. Cara is the World Shore Fishing champion having beaten all the men and women in the recent world championships in Italy. Kyle is into computer graphics.
Xanthe is 54. She is very much a career girl and not yet married. She is an executive with an American company in the UK and is responsible for all their branches in Europe and Israel and the Middle East.
Gregori is 52. He is a sales executive with a French computer company and is based in Dublin, Ireland. He deals with corporate computer systems rather than the computers themselves. He is married to Louise whom he met in Johannesburg but is originally from Dublin. On the birth of their first child, Erin, they decided to immigrate to Ireland to take advantage of the excellent educational system. Erin has taken full advantage of it and is doing well. They have two other children, both boys, Kai and Ryan, who are both academically bright as well as both blossoming as very young rugby players. Kai also plays Gaelic Football. Greg recently represented Ireland over 50’s and played in the World Cup for tag rugby, winning bronze for third place.
After going to Parkwood junior school near where we lived in Johannesburg, all our children went to SAHETI (South African Hellenic Educational Training Institute) an excellent Greek-owned private school in Johannesburg. They had Greek lessons one hour a day and the rest in English. Jason and Greg went on to Michaelhouse, where I was fortunate to obtain an Old Boy’s scholarship for the most expensive school in South Africa.
To sum up, I don’t think we were perfect parents by any means, but we did stick to a couple of basic rules which seemed to be effective, the most important being that we always tried to be fair and predictable. In other words, if we said to one of the kids “Don’t do that,” there were always consequences if the child disobeyed. We did not cry wolf and threaten punishment only to let them off after a few warnings. We also tried our best to treat each child with equal severity. I can’t claim that either Hero or I were perfect with this policy, but we ran it pretty close.
One of the things that Hero in particular has always felt we fell down on, was that we did not spend enough time with the kids. I was constantly going away to film all over the country and Hero’s work as a counsellor involved her in long hours and frequent long telephone calls at any time of the day and night. As against that, when at home I would try to attend every sporting event that each of the four kids participated in. I sometimes had to drive the ten miles each way to SAHETI School up to four times a day to achieve this.
We also made sure that despite any difficult financial situation we managed to take the kids on holiday, mostly to the coast, at least once a year for two weeks.
No matter how good or bad we were as parents, we feel all four of them turned out very well. When I look at the current dislocation of family life today, I’m truly thankful for the “good old days”!
An ExoTech Ltd shareholder, Chris is currently authoring two of the four books to be published the day ExoBrain launches and has helped to create ExoBrain’s introductory video to the Confidential Technical Briefing. Chris has spent his working life in the film and television industry, starting with BBC Television in London, then ATV in Birmingham becoming, at the time, the youngest Studio Manager in Britain.
Later, in South Africa, he wrote and directed film and TV commercials, having four South African entries at the Cannes Advertising Festival. After a number of years of writing and directing or producing documentaries (eight international awards) and corporate videos, he concentrated on writing feature film screenplays (five screened) and television series (seven screened). He has a novel, ”Pursuit of Treachery,” with a literary agent and is currently obtaining finance for an action adventure feature film he has written and is co-producing. He is a published poet and has given many readings.