A pen picture of Ives (George) Pereira
When Benny
DeSouza, my friend in the Uk, asked me to submit to him a
write-up about my background, I was humbled by the request. Benny cautioned me that brevity was important
and this further set the alarm bells ringing.
For several
years now I have been writing my autobiography and with a seven hundred page
document on my life tucked in the memory of my computer, I found that it was
going to be quite a task to condense it into a few lines. But here it is.
I was born
in Zanzibar. My mother Louisa and my
sisters, Irene and Yvonne were teachers at St. Joseph’s Convent School. I have two brothers Ignatius and Maurice. My brother Eustace who was closest to me,
passed away a few years ago. He features
in a few of my stories and it goes without saying that I miss him a whole lot.
My sister Yvonne was married to Wolfango Dourado who sadly passed away on March
19, 2012.
I worked
for Cable and Wireless Ltd. In Zanzibar for eleven years. I was trained as a Radio Operator by Benny’s
father Mr. Alex DeSouza who was the nicest man that anybody could ever meet. He
was also a great teacher. I quit from
Cable and Wireless after eleven years of service in order to pursue my dream of
becoming a teacher like my mother and my wife.
I entered St. Xavier’s College in Mumbai (formerly Bombay) and did an
Honours Degree in English Literature. I
then read and trained for a Bachelor’s Degree in Education at St. Xavier’s
Institute of Education.
Since Zanzibar was in political ferment when I
completed my University work in Mumbai, I went to Uganda where my wife and
children sought some semblance of security.
I taught in Masaka, Uganda for two years and went into another
revolution where we were witness to a whole lot of unwanted killings. We then migrated to Canada in 1967 where I
was appointed Principal of Allen and Bigwood Public School. While in Canada I read for another Honours
Degree in Geography at Laurentian University and obtained various
qualifications from York University, University of Toronto and Queen’s
University. I was a typical example of
life-long learning and still think that I know so very little.
My wife
Margaret who is also a teacher and I retired in 1995.
In 1982 we accepted an appointment by the Federal Government
of Canada to teach teachers in Papua New Guinea. (Please read the story attached below)
These are
the bare bones of our lives, but there were times when we lived tumultuous
lives as do most immigrants, and this will be reflected in some of the stories
that you are invited to read.
WELCOME TO
MY READERSHIP.
GEORGE
(IVES) PEREIRA
Family Photographs
I married Margaret Devine. We have two children Ingrid and Neil. We are proud grandparents. My daughter Ingrid did her Masters in Social Work and her son Neil Angelo is a qualified paramedic. My son Neil , who is a chartered Accountant, has two children Amanda and Austin who are at McMaster University studying to become doctors.
Click on the Yellow link below.
Click on Family Photo Album
Click on the Yellow link below.
Click on Family Photo Album
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INTO THE LAND OF THE HEAD HUNTERS
By Ives (George) Pereira
As I was
nearing fifty, there came upon me an uneasiness that gave rise to a
multiplicity of emotions that somehow I could not explain. I put this down to male menopause, a simplistic
way of explaining it away.
This could
not go on forever. One day, however, I
thought that I hit on the best solution to my problems. I thought that I would take leave of absence
from my teaching responsibilities in Ontario University of Toronto
The
Canadian University Service Overseas organization was very happy to receive my
call and declared that it had not hitherto had applicants with our
qualifications and experience and that it would not be very difficult to have
us placed. Two days later, CUSO came up
with an offer of jobs in West Africa . I explained to them that I was from Africa myself but that I would prefer to be placed in
another culture world. Within a month
they got back to me asking whether we might consider going to Papua New Guinea
We learned that the people of Papua New Guinea
were Melanesians. They were short in
stature and had long heads, large noses and kinky hair. There were about a hundred different tribes,
and each tribe (a tribe could be ten or fewer than ten people) spoke a
distinctly different language. The most
common language spoken by most Papuans was “Pidgin”. It was the cement that kept the diverse
cultural groups together.
It was
believed that there still were tribes that had not yet been discovered deep in
the rain forest that covered most of Papua New Guinea Papua New Guinea
But this
was not the place where help was most needed. Foreign help was diverted into less developed
provinces and that made a whole lot of sense.
Unfortunately, these were areas where there was scarcity of a whole lot
of things. Specialized medical care was not easily available and one had to
travel hundreds of kilometers if there was need for it. Furthermore, the roads were mere dirt roads
and the rains were known to wash out sections of the road making passage nigh
impossible. There were places where one
had to drive through “wadis” (shallow streams) to get to the other side. If there was a heavy rain miles up the wadi, it
became a torrential river and far too impassable because of the depth and strong
current. The driver of the vehicle had to sometimes wait for hours until the
water receded before crossing over. Our
posting was to be in the East
Sepik Province
We did not
know this until one fine day I received a call from an officer in the Federal Government
in Ottawa. I was informed that our files
were transferred to Ottawa Canada
I found
this quite amusing since CUSO never received my approval to transfer my file to
Ottawa Papua New Guinea Guinea
It wasn’t
difficult to get three years leave of absence from the Peel Board of
Education. At that time, there was a
surplus of teachers on the market and consequently it was not going to be
difficult to find a replacement for me or for my wife who was also a teacher
with Dufferin and Peel Catholic Separate School Board. As we had predicted both the School boards
were happy to grant us the leave that we requested. It would also go well on their resume. We
were now ready to make our move.
There were
a few things that we had to settle before we left. We thought it best to sell our house, rather
than keep it locked without any supervision.
We knew that when we returned from our trip, we could always buy another
house. Within a couple of months, the house
was sold to Melad and Georgette Shoufany, new immigrants from Israel and who
were destined to be our closest friends after we returned from our overseas
assignment.
Before we
left, we were to attend a three-day seminar on what to expect in Papua New Guinea
The first
leg of our journey was to Vancouver Hawaii island of Hawaii Papua New Guinea Papua New Guinea East
Sepik Province
When we got
to Wewak, we deplaned and sat waiting for the School Principal. We could not help noticing a short bearded
gentleman dressed like an arrogant colonial officer, complete with a
distinctive moustache march up and down past us several times apparently
expecting someone to deplane. In a short
time, we were the last people left at the airport, and so was this white
colonial officer. Finally, he walked up
to us and asked us if we were the Pereiras Canada
The journey
took us five hours and by the time we got to our accommodation it was quite
dark. Loud music blared from speakers with Ann Murray (our Canadian “snowbird”)
singing her heart out. This was the
students’ way of welcoming Canadians to their habitat. Shortly thereafter the music came to an
abrupt end, and darkness descended on the campus. It was one of the hiccups of
the Electricity Board with its very poor service to the hinterland.
The house was perched up on steel posts about
ten feet above the ground. There was no
electricity when we entered our house. On entering, we got a very strong smell of
mildew everywhere. We lit a candle and
walked to the bedroom. The mattress was
all mouldy. The bathroom and the walls were threateningly
black and mouldy too. Here was I in an
environment that I was mortally allergic to.
Between the roof and the living area there was a false ceiling. We could hear, what appeared to be, hundreds
of little feet run up and down above the ceiling. We soon learned that they were large mice
that took charge of the house when left vacant for a few months. Both Margaret and I looked at each other but
knew that we were going to have a sleepless night in addition to the many that
we had on our long and tedious journey to Maprik. We could not possibly sleep on the mattress
so we placed on the floor a bed sheet that we had brought along with us. We made a makeshift pillow out of some of our
clothes, kicked off our shoes, and tried to get some sleep. The noise in the ceiling kept getting louder
and this was punctuated by screeches as though the mice were having an argument
over us. As we slept on the floor, a
mouse ran over my face. For the first
time I realized how cold the feet of mice were.
We gave up sleeping as an illusion under these conditions, so we sat up
and talked about the comfort of home in Canada
The
following morning, we got dressed and walked to the School. Maprik
Secondary School
We
approached the Princpial, and complained in the most restrained fashion about
the condition of our accommodation. We
were given two senior students to wipe down the walls and floors and anything
that was attacked by mildew with bleach. How amazing! The almost black walls turned mysteriously
into white walls. Once we were
satisfied that we had beaten the mildew we made a list of things that we
needed. First of all, there was no way
that we were going to use a totally stained and stinking mattress. We needed a replacement. We had no pillows. We added that to our list. We asked the very cooperative students how we
were going to get rid of the mice in the ceiling. They assured us that since the house was now
being lived in, the mice would find another place to do their thing. We hoped that they were right. We had a refrigerator but without electricity
that was very erratic at best, it was a white elephant. There was a large water tank outside that
held a few hundred gallons of run off rain water from the roof and that was to
be our only source of water for drinking and other purposes.
The tap to
the tank had to be locked to prevent pirates from stealing water in the dead of
night. Water had to be carried in pails up two flights of stairs when it was
needed.
When we
assumed our jobs at Maprik
Secondary School
I was given
the responsibility of teaching the senior students. As a Senior Subject Supervisor, I was also
required to monitor the teaching that went on in the other English classes and
to report on the effectiveness of the teaching methods being employed. I was able to go through the records that
were kept by the previous Supervisor and the records were an eye opener to
me. The reports were more of a scathing
critic on all the negatives that were observed in the particular lesson offered
by a teacher. There was no encouragement
offered on the positive aspect of the lessons.
If I were the teacher under inspection, I would probably have quit my
job after receiving the first report. I
thought that I would adopt a more conciliatory and positive approach so that
the teacher concerned would be encouraged to improve his effectiveness in the
classroom. I also felt that my own
effectiveness in the class was of paramount importance. Getting students to interact with each other
in the classroom was a novel experience to my students. They were used to being lectured to, and were
groomed to look at the teacher intelligently while he “taught” his lesson. I soon discovered that the only way that
these students thought that they were learning is when the teacher made intelligent
sounds in front of the classroom. I
therefore had to bring my methodology in line with what the students felt was
the only way of learning effectively and to gradually introduce interactive
learning which, it would seem, made learning more permanent.. But I realized that this would take
time. It was like attempting to change a
culture.
I was
inspected by the Superintendent within a month of my arrival, and I must admit
that the lesson was a disaster. The
students were very passive and did not or “were not” able to answer questions
put to them on the content that was taught.
It was quite a humiliating experience since it reflected badly on my
position as Senior Subject Supervisor placed in charge of making teachers at
the School more effective. How could
this possibly happen
if I just
proved that I was not effective myself?
I made an attempt to explain to the Superintendent that I was still
feeling my way and that before long, I would hit a happy medium to the
satisfaction of all concerned. I am not
sure that the Superintendent went away convinced about this.
When we
arrived in Maprik, the expatriate Australian community invited us to spend an
evening at the home of an Australian couple that was in Papua New Guinea Northern India .
The title of the movie was Little Churchill. It took you back to the time when the
British were taking control of India India
After
independence, most of the Australians moved back to the homeland. However, at this time there was terrible
intolerance against homosexuals raising its monstrous head in the major cities
of Australia Papua New Guinea
We were
fortunate to befriend a gentleman from New Zealand Hawaii Agricultural
College
Bill owned
his own car. It was a four-wheel drive
Suziki that was ideal for the rough roads of Papua New Guinea
“What if I
told you that right now we were being watched by a few thousand people?”
“I don’t
see anybody here. Whatever made you say
that?” I replied.
“OK Ives, I
want you to look past my shoulder.
Concentrate on one spot in the trees behind me.”
I did as he
said, and to my consternation, I noticed hundreds of heads peeping out from the
trees. I was petrified and suggested
that we jump into the car and take off for dear life.
“Don’t
worry, Ives. They are harmless. They are curious and just want to know what
these strangers were doing in their territory.” said Bill.
Both
Corrine and Margaret became very nervous in spite of Bill’s reassurance so we
decided that we would move somewhere else.
“The moral
of the story,” said Bill as we drove away, “is that there no such thing as
privacy in a place like Papua
New Guinea
The local
market was held just outside our School once a week. It was here that we bought our vegetables and
fruit. Most of the vendors were
suffering from all kinds of skin diseases such as grille. We were very traumatized by this in the
beginning and generally bought our vegetables from someone who did not exhibit
such diseases. However, after some time
we overlooked the problem but made sure that the vegetables were washed and
cooked well. On one occasion, I saw a
vendor with a bowl of white worms, each one as big as one’s middle finger. I was quite curious and asked the vendor what
she did with those. She looked at me
questioningly and declared that it was a food and that everybody ate those
worms. In fact she assured me that they
could be eaten live or cooked depending on one’s preferences. This made my insides constrict a bit, and I
seriously thought that she was putting me on.
Sister Maura, a nun from Australia Canada
If one
asked the Papuans how they cooked their meals, the pat answer was that they
boiled it and ate it. They did this with
their meats, vegetables, and any other food types. Food was never marinated with spices or
salt. Perhaps their way was a healthy
way of eating. Margaret had taken a
whole lot of Indian spices intended of course for our own use. One day she hit on the idea that she would
invite all the teachers’ wives on campus to a cooking session where she thought
she would introduce them to food cooked with spices. It was an attempt at
cross-cultural education starting with the adults in the community. There was much excitement on campus and the
attendance on that Saturday was electrical.
Margaret had bought a couple of chickens and demonstrated how the
chicken could be cut. She then described
each of the spices that went into a curried chicken recipe. The wives were all eyes and ears. Finally, the dish was ready and she invited
the wives to partake. To our
consternation, none of the wives liked what was before them. They obviously felt that this was an
abomination of two good chickens that were best boiled and eaten. I need hardly say that Margaret was quite
mortified and disheartened by the experience, but we had learned one important
lesson and that was that culture is a strange thing. We were partly happy about gaining these
insights into Papuan tastes for shortly after we were privileged to have been
invited to the home of a Papua New Guinea School Principal. When we got there, there was perhaps a whole
tribe present. For dinner we were going
to have a “Lua” (it sounded like that anyway).
It much resembled the Lua that they have in Hawaii
Strange
experiences were a way of life for us.
Bill and Corrine had a neighbor who was affectionately named fearless
John. John loved snakes. We were mortally scared of them. John was known to stop his motorbike on the
dirt road that he was traveling along whenever he spotted a snake. He would catch hold of the snake( usually a
python) by its head, allow it to wind itself around his body and then proceed
to take the snake on his bike to his apartment.
There he would let it creep where ever it wanted to go. He would keep the snake for a few days until
he noticed that it was getting nervous (perhaps hungry) and then let it free in
the bush just next to his house. We
actually say a ten-foot python in his apartment one time. Needless to say, we never accepted any
invitation to visit him even if a cold beer was most inviting proposition in
the hot and humid climate of the country for we could never be sure what kind
of vermin was boarding with him.
In Papua New Guinea Iraq PNG .
(Papua New Guinea
Another
warning to drivers in PNG is that if they were driving and by accident hit a
Papuan on the road and even if they were at fault they were to drive away as
quickly as possible. It was not uncommon
that drivers in an accident were lynched and killed.
Roads in Papua New Guinea East Sepik
were dirt roads at best. Payday was not
for sane drivers. One kept off the roads
during that time. Papuans loved to
drink, and many of them would drink heavily and drive. As a result the death toll around payday rose
by leaps and bounds. The emergency
department at the ill- equipped hospitals around the Province were full to
capacity with accident victims, with serious wounds and broken limbs. A large number of the injured Papuans sustained
serious wounds from fights precipitated by drunkenness.
On the
professional front, I noticed that the teachers were at a considerable
disadvantage since much of the teaching had to be done in the classroom through
talking and chalking. This was very time consuming, but in the
absence of electricity and the hardware that makes teaching so much easier in
the West, one had to become very creative in ones teaching methodology. Here, I’ve got to confess, I learnt more from
my Papuan counterparts than I had to offer.
In addition to this, it was my job to monitor what went on in other
classes. On our English Staff we had a
teacher from England Port Moresby Papua
New Guinea
During our
stay at Maprik, we had the good fortune of meeting with a young twenty-five
year old Australian called Walter. He
was young and single and was doing some contracting work in Maprik at the time
that we met him. Walter spent much of his time with us, and had a free run of
our house. He had a girlfriend in Australia Australia Australia
After a
year or so in PNG , I found myself
despising the Principal. There were
several reasons for this. His treatment
of the students was that of a tyrant. On
one occasion, one of the students from my hostel came down with Malaria. I naturally headed for the infirmary only to
find it locked. It was believed that
someone had absconded with a pair of scissors and the Principal declared that
nobody would enter the infirmary until the scissors was returned. I thought that this treatment was rudely
Draconian. In other words because one of
the students had stolen the pair of scissors, ( and this was yet to be proven)
all the students had to suffer. I was
beside myself when I heard this. I
walked across to the Principal’s office and demanded that he give me the keys
and if he did not, I was going to break down the door to the infirmary. Of course, the Principal handed the keys to
me immediately but said that he would have me reported to the Federal
Government. I got hold of the medication
that the sick student required and then returned the key to him. On another occasion, the students were
summoned to an assembly. Apparently a
student had thrown a rock at one of the louver windows to attract the attention
of one of the girls. In so doing, he
broke the glass. The Principal stood in front of the students at an assembly
and shouted quite angrily:
“One of you
BASTARDS threw a stone at the window in the girls’ dormitory and broke a
pane. I would like for that BASTARD to
own up or there are going to be serious consequences.”
When I
heard this, I swung around and asked Sr. Maura who was standing next to me
whether I had heard right. Her response
was:
“Isn’t that
a shame?”
After the
assembly I asked the Principal whether I could see him in his office.
“I was
pretty shocked at the language that you used today.” I cautioned him. “We are
supposed to be an example to the students, but you obviously overstepped your
authority.. I just want you to know one
thing. If I ever hear you abuse the
students as you did today, I will have you reported to the Federal Government
immediately.”
I naturally
became enemy number one as far as he was concerned. He then embarked on a systematic harassment
and sabotage of everything that I was attempting to do, and even disconnected
the telephone that was our only lifeline to the outside world. As a result we
could not contact our children in Canada Canada
task. The doctor in Wewak told me that it might be
best for me to go to Australia Canada Australia Papua New Guinea
We flew to Melbourne Africa days. After a week or so, we decided to fly
home. I was in a wheel-chair all the way
to Toronto with memories of our experiences in Papua New Guinea which were
bitter-sweet but which led to a greater appreciation of the wonderful country that
we were returning to.
What is
more pertinent is that on my return to Canada, none of the uneasiness that
caused me such unhappiness before my departure to Papua New Guinea was present. I guess that was what I really needed ,,,,,,,,a
dose of reality.
I certainly got it the hard way!!!
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Hello
Aspi:
Many thanks for your encouraging remarks. I appreciate them. I do believe that
what most enthusiasts like about my stories is their honesty. Now read "From
landed immigrant to retirement."
George
From: "aspidastur@..." <aspidastur@...>
Thanks George.
George your write-up in your blog about your experiences in Papua New Guinea was
simply fascinating. It was enlightening and entertaining at so many levels. Thank
you for sharing your experiences in such a brilliant way. Keep it up. You have
single-handedly brought life and excitement to the SJCS forum. Just look at the
people responding to your mailings. You have been able to touch us all with your
life experiences in a way that has brought back memories in us that had been
pushed back into the far reaches of our mind.
The colonial racists you encountered in PNG were no different from the racist
Mzungoos we grew up with in Zanzibar. Admittedly, not all of them were that bad.
I can think of some who were very decent people and integrated very well with
the locals. Some who come to mind are Mr. and Mrs. Pasco (Principal Aga Khan
School), Mr. and Mrs. Barton (Health Dept.), Mr. Evans (teacher KG School). I am
sure there were more.
Your fishing experiences in Trinidad reminded me of the method of fishing
employed by some fishermen in Zanzibar. They would cast a huge net in an
inverted U form, and then two teams on shore, one at each end, would pull the
net in loaded with fish. The fish were then loaded in baskets and taken to
market. Often times if we noticed them fishing near our house, we would
intercept them and buy some of the fish. You could not get any fresher fish. In
fact, some Bohris, who only ate fish they had seen alive, would often be seen
patrolling the shore for fish to buy. Interestingly, what is considered fresh
fish in this country is fish that is put on ice on fishing boats. Imagine.
Many thanks for your encouraging remarks. I appreciate them. I do believe that
what most enthusiasts like about my stories is their honesty. Now read "From
landed immigrant to retirement."
George
From: "aspidastur@..." <aspidastur@...>
Thanks George.
George your write-up in your blog about your experiences in Papua New Guinea was
simply fascinating. It was enlightening and entertaining at so many levels. Thank
you for sharing your experiences in such a brilliant way. Keep it up. You have
single-handedly brought life and excitement to the SJCS forum. Just look at the
people responding to your mailings. You have been able to touch us all with your
life experiences in a way that has brought back memories in us that had been
pushed back into the far reaches of our mind.
The colonial racists you encountered in PNG were no different from the racist
Mzungoos we grew up with in Zanzibar. Admittedly, not all of them were that bad.
I can think of some who were very decent people and integrated very well with
the locals. Some who come to mind are Mr. and Mrs. Pasco (Principal Aga Khan
School), Mr. and Mrs. Barton (Health Dept.), Mr. Evans (teacher KG School). I am
sure there were more.
Your fishing experiences in Trinidad reminded me of the method of fishing
employed by some fishermen in Zanzibar. They would cast a huge net in an
inverted U form, and then two teams on shore, one at each end, would pull the
net in loaded with fish. The fish were then loaded in baskets and taken to
market. Often times if we noticed them fishing near our house, we would
intercept them and buy some of the fish. You could not get any fresher fish. In
fact, some Bohris, who only ate fish they had seen alive, would often be seen
patrolling the shore for fish to buy. Interestingly, what is considered fresh
fish in this country is fish that is put on ice on fishing boats. Imagine.
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I have also added a "TABLE OF CONTENTS" where you can select any of the published stories by just one click on any of the titles below.
As it is always difficult to find links of interest on your PC or Laptop, and hard to remember the Link addresses. It is recommended you save useful links to your FAVOURITES List.
To make it easy to remember where to find my stories, I have a new page titled ClickGeorgePereira or on the link below
Best Regards
Ives (George) Pereira
Ex Zanzibar
TABLE OF CONTENTS
CLICK ON ANY OF THE TITLES BELOW TO VIEW STORY.
CLICK ON ANY OF THE TITLES BELOW TO VIEW STORY.
ZANZIBAR STORIES
CANADA STORIES
GOA STORIES
See What's New Link above for future updates which will have a date stamp.
Regards George
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