Page 71 - moondani kyema
P. 71
ndani kyema, My Story - Ray Moore 71
Coca Cola and movie cartoons had become embedded in my list of "Things I enjoy"
at the end of the War, in Xi'an. In Hong Kong I was introduced to some more new
experiences which were to form my preferences for future years.
As we stood just inside the border of the New Territories which belonged to Hong
Kong on this hot summer day, and my emotions were unexpectedly stirred as I stood
under the British flag, someone came with refreshments for us. These were in the
form of cold bottles of orangeade with beads of water condensed on the outside.
Refreshing? You could have offered me the most expensive drinks in the world and I
would have refused them. This was heaven. This was Shangri la. This was ecstasy!
To this day, fizzy orange and Coca Cola are my favourite refreshments.
Later when we had our first meal in the Lutheran Mission Home where we were to
stay for the next month, I remember nothing of the menu for that meal, except that we
had white bread and butter. White bread! And real butter! The Chinese do not make
bread as we do and I have no memories of bread being anything very special in
China, although I do remember having western style bread with peanut butter. But
soft, fresh, white bread with a glorious crust that I could chew with sensuous delight.
And that wonderfully smooth, yellow butter that just made the experience absolutely
irresistible, was something that I would never forget, nor would I ever lose my
pleasure in eating white bread and butter.
We were taken to the Lutheran Mission Home at 33 Granville Road, Kowloon where
the Eatons left us and the parents of the three Grant children joined us. Our parents
were in Sydney, looking after the mission’s interests at the Stanmore home where
missionaries stayed while they were passing through Sydney. Don and Naomi
Grant had been missionaries in the same general area of China in which my parents
had served. Naomi was a gracious, quietly spoken woman who exuded a
gentleness in dealing with her own family of three and an extra three boys. Don had
a huge job trying to get a passage on a ship to Australia for the party – two adults
and six children. He was told that it would be at least a four month wait
To get home to Australia was not a
simple exercise in 1950. Universal air
travel as we know it today did not exist at
that stage. Most air travel was
connected with the government and the
armed services. We needed to find
passage on a ship from Hong Kong to
Australia, but this was not easy either
because there were thousands of people
like us who were leaving China because
of the communist liberation of the
country. So it was with some difficulty
that the Grants were able eventually to find tickets for us on a ship travelling to
England. We discovered that if we took this ship as far as Ceylon (Sri Lanka today)
and then disembarked and caught another ship which was travelling from England to
Australia, we would get to Australia faster than if we waited for a direct passage from
Hong Kong to Australia. This took a month to organize.
Coca Cola and movie cartoons had become embedded in my list of "Things I enjoy"
at the end of the War, in Xi'an. In Hong Kong I was introduced to some more new
experiences which were to form my preferences for future years.
As we stood just inside the border of the New Territories which belonged to Hong
Kong on this hot summer day, and my emotions were unexpectedly stirred as I stood
under the British flag, someone came with refreshments for us. These were in the
form of cold bottles of orangeade with beads of water condensed on the outside.
Refreshing? You could have offered me the most expensive drinks in the world and I
would have refused them. This was heaven. This was Shangri la. This was ecstasy!
To this day, fizzy orange and Coca Cola are my favourite refreshments.
Later when we had our first meal in the Lutheran Mission Home where we were to
stay for the next month, I remember nothing of the menu for that meal, except that we
had white bread and butter. White bread! And real butter! The Chinese do not make
bread as we do and I have no memories of bread being anything very special in
China, although I do remember having western style bread with peanut butter. But
soft, fresh, white bread with a glorious crust that I could chew with sensuous delight.
And that wonderfully smooth, yellow butter that just made the experience absolutely
irresistible, was something that I would never forget, nor would I ever lose my
pleasure in eating white bread and butter.
We were taken to the Lutheran Mission Home at 33 Granville Road, Kowloon where
the Eatons left us and the parents of the three Grant children joined us. Our parents
were in Sydney, looking after the mission’s interests at the Stanmore home where
missionaries stayed while they were passing through Sydney. Don and Naomi
Grant had been missionaries in the same general area of China in which my parents
had served. Naomi was a gracious, quietly spoken woman who exuded a
gentleness in dealing with her own family of three and an extra three boys. Don had
a huge job trying to get a passage on a ship to Australia for the party – two adults
and six children. He was told that it would be at least a four month wait
To get home to Australia was not a
simple exercise in 1950. Universal air
travel as we know it today did not exist at
that stage. Most air travel was
connected with the government and the
armed services. We needed to find
passage on a ship from Hong Kong to
Australia, but this was not easy either
because there were thousands of people
like us who were leaving China because
of the communist liberation of the
country. So it was with some difficulty
that the Grants were able eventually to find tickets for us on a ship travelling to
England. We discovered that if we took this ship as far as Ceylon (Sri Lanka today)
and then disembarked and caught another ship which was travelling from England to
Australia, we would get to Australia faster than if we waited for a direct passage from
Hong Kong to Australia. This took a month to organize.
