March 3rd 1978
Darling Mom and Dad,
I should be starting work; it's 9.30 am, I've just put the sheets in the washing machine, and now I should be diligently launching into research proposal number 5001...well, that's what it feels like. But I feel like chatting to you for a while instead, so I will. Until I know one way or the other about Kenya (which I should do in the next couple of days). I find it difficult to do anything but sit at my desk and contemplate the distant Downs, and look for signs of buds on trees.
The sun's shining today, and some crocuses have have suddenly appeared in our "rockery" ; so, in spite of the gloomy forecasts by those idiot weathermen. I think spring is here and I long to throw myself into real work. I'm sick of this waiting game.
It's a rather insane situation actually, ODM is really keen, have got one of their people at the High Commission in Nairobi, dealing with it, which is fairly unusual. But to get research clearance I have to be attached to a Kenyan institution, and the Centre, rather naively chose the IDS in Nairobi; and for the IDS in Nairobi, which is becoming very prestigious, this research is small beer and they're not interested. For them, apparently, the scope of the research and the length of time is too small. Now, it's a matter of trying to persuade them. But so frustrating: for the last six years I've been trying to do this research, have had support from organisations, but no money; now I have the money (£2000, apart from my salary, for three months!) and no institution.
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"..for nice middle class people like us, problems are 90% in the mind and have no objective causes at all."
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Life, as usual, has been hectic. We had a very crowded week end. Barbara Lamb came Friday evening -- feeling very out of sorts because Geoff is away in Sri lanka for a consultancy, and she finds it difficult to cope without him. In a way it makes me impatient, because I had to learn to function normally without To all those years he was leaping off to Sudan and Ethiopia and India and Burundi and Zaire and Botswana... Bar is actually a great kwetcher, thinks her problems are always worse than somebody else's. And seeing that she is joining Geoff in Sri Lanka for two weeks holiday, I find it difficult to be overcome with sympathy.
However, sympathy To and I give; after all, that's what friends are for, even when it's difficult to see that there is any problem. One of the things I have learned with the years is that for nice middle class people like us, problems are 90% in the mind and have no objective causes at all. It's only when you have a full belly and a roof over your head and security that you can luxuriate in dissatisfaction at the "quality" of life!
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To had brought us a croissant each, they're really good, from a nearby bakery. Not very expensive, 7 pence each.
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Anyway, Saturday morning is our usual rush around time - To does all the shopping while I clean the house and the kids go their different ways - soccer in the park for the twins, flute lessons for Phil. They each have to do their room from top to bottom before they go - for the rest of the week, they can live in a pig sty if they like (and they do, except for Andy). Then, in the afternoon, To potters round the house while I wash my hair and cut my toe nails and generally tidy myself up. Which domesticity our friends the Bartons interrupted by descending on us, Frank filling the house with his usual loud voice and emphatic pronouncements.
You remember Maureen from Abingdon, Mom, a rather nice woman with red hair? Frank was my boss in Nairobi for a while and To's at Oxfam for a year or so. He still travels all over the world, running journalists' training courses and press seminars, etc. And while they were still here the Jones arrived. So I was behind hand with the fish soup, and we didn't rest until quite late.
But the soup was really good, I added mussels at the last minute, and tumeric instead of tumeric instead of saffron. Actually, very rich. Nothing else, except for a creme caramel.
Sunday we all got up pretty late (Jocelyn and Ian [Jones] slept on the floor in the lounge, on cushions), and To had brought us a croissant each, they're really good, from a nearby bakery. Not very expensive, 7 pence each.
We had planed to drive out with the Jones to see Njoroge and Jill [Desai] and the new baby, but Barbara descended on us again with Lisa, so we sat and chatted all afternoon, and then To and the Jones went for a walk in the park, while I made supper. And then I left with the Jones for Reading that night, slept at their place, and spent the day at the centre. Got home really late Monday evening. Kept on just missing a train and having to hang around various platforms; sometimes, if I'm lucky, the journey takes only 3 hours door to door; if I am unlucky, it can take four. This time I was unlucky!
Then, Tuesday evening To stayed in London, in a hotel the magazine had booked him into. The Railway union didn't decide to call off at the strike until 7.30 p.m. -- less than five hours before it was due to start. And as To had a very early morning at the printers' anyway, he decided to stay at the hotel in spite of the fact that the strike was called off.
Wednesday afternoon, I had to go to a seminar at the IDS (on women and slavery in the West Indies, by a woman historian); and then I went with Barbara to keep her company - it was Lisa's 10th birthday and she took her and five friends for a pizza dinner, but Lisa asked her to sit at another table, so she wanted me to join her. We drank rather a lot of wine, and Barbara kwetched throughout...but in spite of it all she does have a sense of humour and can laugh at herself too, if you force her a little. Which I did, so she wasn't too heavy.
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We drank rather a lot of wine, and Barbara kwetched throughout...
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The boys made their own food that evening, and kept some for To who came in late -- he supervised the photo printing, which was a new thing for him and useful in gaining experience in all aspects of processing.
Yesterday was reasonably quiet, To came home early (as he always does on the day the magazine comes out), and at about 10 p.m. To and I went to the local pub and had a beer before going to bed at a decent hour, for a change.
This week end we aren't planning anything, except maybe to go to a movie (any movie!) with the Raikes - like us they've just moved into a new house and spend their free time at the week end, fixing it up; but need a break on Saturday evening.
I'll be going to Reading on Monday, and coming back Tuesday. The twins are in the middle of their exams, working really very hard and both are looking rather pale. The school plays up the exams very heavily, and Andy, particularly, is getting nervous because of the pressure. We try to balance it out a bit, stressing that it's not the end of the world if he doesn't do all that well in a couple of subjects, but he's really suffering. Chris has more confidence in himself and that helps him a lot in this kind of situation. I feel for them -- we all have to go through it, but that doesn't make it any easier.
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The twins are in the middle of their exams, working really very hard and both are looking rather pale.
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Phil's exams are over, but not the work, of course. He hasn't got any results yet. He's also feeling the pressure of the coming exams, and trying to get himself into a routine of work. His only relaxation at the moment, apart from Judo, is music. He's playing a lot, on all his instruments, getting back into the sitar, playing well on the flute and the recorder. I really enjoy listening to his playing.
And that's our news. I've just read your last letter Dad, of the 23rd. I don't usually get into political arguments with you, but you must be getting fed up with my never responding - so, assuming that we start of by agreeing we disagree, I do want to answer just a little.
I honestly don't think you can compare the situation of the workers in France with those in the Soviet Union. I'm not a wholehearted admirer of the SU, don't imagine that I am. There are many things that I criticise. But I believe that the only long term answer for the world is socialism; and that it's not achieved easily. Two generations ago the people in Russia and other countries that make up the SU were living in terrible conditions not in any way comparable to those of Europe. The condition of the people in the SU must be seen in that context. You have only to see places like Iran or Afghanistan, or Turkey, right on the border, to see the different quality of life for those people and the people living in places like Uzbekistan. That's the real yardstick, for me.
I identify with the Third World; I find little to admire in the French Communist Party, let alone the French Socialists. Okey, they've reached a good standard of living; and let's face it Dad, they got it not because they were given it, but because they fought for it. But they don't care a damn more than anyone else, that two thirds of the people in the world don't have enough to eat. And for me, that's the real obscenity.
I get very angry over what's being said about Ethiopia at the moment - the righteous anger of the Western press over the actions of the regime there. I didn't support Mengistu; but I didn't support that terrible old man Haile Selassie; and he killed thousands more Ethiopians than Mengistu ever has or will, political murders as well as murders through neglect. Ugh, it makes me nauseous just to think of him. But the press even tired to hush up (as To knows only too well) the fact that thousands of people were dying of starvation.
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I think once you have seen, as To has, a baby trying to suck from it's dead mother's breast by the side of the road ... then your perspective on life changes for ever.
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I think once you have seen, as To has, a baby trying to suck from it's dead mother's breast by the side of the road (and that mother died from starvation) then your perspective on life changes for ever. You don't have to go to India to see people living in conditions that you can't begin to imagine until you have actually seen it -- and to me, that kind of poverty is the worst kind of violence there is.
Ag, I get so worked up. The waste and the cruelty of it all doesn't bear thinking about. Power does corrupt, both left and right, black white and yellow. But I am still an idealist, I guess - in spite of neutron bombs humanity still progresses and always will, even if it is in a most imperfect drunken sort of way.
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humanity still progresses and always will, even if it is in a most imperfect drunken sort of way.
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So, rather than a cogent argument, what you got there was a declaration of faith! I can't imagine that I've persuaded you in any way, so let's go back to where we started and agree to disagree!!
Now, I really must stop yacketting on and get on to some work. It's nearly 11 o'clock. Du liebe zeit, as Granny would say. I have a feeling it's going to be fish and chips for supper....
Darlings, keep well and look after yourselves. If it's nice weather this weekend, we might even take some pictures of the house and send them to you.
Lots of love, hugs and kisses from us all, and especially from me, your loving
Evechen
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