Ol time sumting come back agin!
I remember those days when .......
I was a little boy living in Barbados going to primary school. See me there with me short, bony self in some khaki short pants and khaki shirt. That was uniform, neatly pressed or sometimes starched along with some nice brown or black leather shoes that I used to polish up on the weekend with the kiwi shoe polish and a old piece of rag. Added to that was the khaki socks held in place on skinny shins with elastic bands. Oh and don't forget me with my hair part or my little afro cause my father didn't like cutting my hair too often.
Anyway see me dey not a care in the world. Is just school, run bout and talk foolishness to deal with. Yea we had to study for big Common Entrance exam to go high school but still no worries is only de parents that worried that you get into the 'right' school and thinking about your future an all that nonsense. All we children, like 8 or 9 years old, thinking bout is nothing so serious at all so. We just living life, pitching marbles, playing football, running up and down the school field trying to grow up and get big. We figure well the set above we pass common entrance, some for good schools, some for not so good but well them didn't look too much brighter than we so we should do just as well right? Sounded like good logic to our small brains true?
Oh boy and yea now we talking about pitching marbles boy I remember those days when....
We used to play 'killa' and other marble games. Marbles was like 5 or 10 cents each so every boy had about a good 3 or 4 at least. The glass ones were nice and very common but we liked the ones that look like real marble betta cause they were more expensive and a bit rarer. Pretty pretty white marbles with the little swirls of red or blue or green. Yes boy I want some a dem! We playing marbles like is pool without a stick or golf without the club no? Set up a starting line and aim for the hole and try to make it in 2 or 3 shots like them golf man that shoot birdies and eagles, albatrosses and bogeys. But what we local boys know about birdies and eagles is only black bird and wood dove we seeing round we. Naa star is marbles we playing man.
The aim is to get to the hole so you can be a killa and then mek the odda fellas run roun the place and hit/kill their marbles one by one till you win. Watch we in the dirt, all over the dusty ground or standing with one eye closed aiming to take a serious shots. Flick that thumb and brax marble lik! Spawning off distance between marbles, calculating angles and rotating the shot like pivoting on the basketball court, setting up what seemed like impossible kill shots and more brax! Looka that. Haw haw looka that man marble crack! It used to be round now big piece chip off and marble useless. Sometimes we even play if ya win ya get the other man marbles. Little boy gambling I guess but we never see it as anything so although you used to wonder why ya mudda would get so vex if she find out ya playing for marbles. We would chalk it up to just another of those things children do that parents get vex at for no logical reason.
That was at break and lunch time. During school time we behave like all school children......try to get away with things when we can if not behaving we self. Yea boy cant let the teacher see you behaving bad at all. Must behave yaself at school if not is a good cut ass in ya backside in class and maybe another one when ya reach home. Teacher scary too cause teacher have ruler, leather belt, strap and bamboo taller than you to use as Weapons of Ass Destruction (WAD) looking to target any rude boy that misbehave. No matter how much a rude boy ya was you could pretend but that bamboo used to bring tears to ya eyes so was serious fear of that instrument.
Yes I! I remember those days when ....
Well one day in particular. I Remember teacher maulsprig almost the whole class over one math question. Wasn't the hardest question, wasn't the simplest question either but by the time the four people in the front row miss and get it wrong and get liks everybody too frighten to even remember the answer if they did know it previously.
I Remember her saying something like 'Wha wrong wid wunnah? My 5 year old at home could answer this question. This is simple. How you going pass common entrance if you cant answer this?'
That time all we feel we big at like 8 or 9 so to compare we to a 5 year old is pure embarrassment and shame plus we living in fear as she goes from bench to bench sharing liks with the big dry flexible bamboo.
And is not like the teacher woman was small either ya know. Woman a good 5'7" or 5'8" and solid, solid, solid. Must be a good 250lbs plus but know how to use that weight to advantage. Arms big, big like leg ham and when she flex that bamboo and that bamboo descend is like serious serious physics business a gwan. Mass times acceleration and transfer of energy kinetic to energy potential to "behind sore" energy leaving you in distress. All ya hearing as ya bend over the bench is a woosh! and a pax as the bamboo connects with pants bottom. All wind knock out ya khaki pants and then a few seconds later ya bottom stinging ya. Girl and boy trying not to cry but nuff man a cry me say nuff man a cry cry, bamboo force brings tears to 'im eye.
That stinging of the bamboo wuhloss boy! Serious thing that.
And so the teacher went on and on from row to row sharing out liks like Bajan politicians sharing out corn beef and biscuits come election time. Ruthless and efficient she was moving down the line. What is the answer? All most could muster was a blank stare cause we felt that guessing and answering wrong might be worse than not answering at all. Whoosh, pax! Another man down. Next!
Everybody get a share. Man face set up, eyes red, eyes water, man a cry bucket a tears but yet the carnage continues. Till one man without a clue but figuring lemma guess and hope for the best step up and guess an answer. What do you know he was right. Save like the last two rows from distress.
All I can say is a good thing I used to sit at the very back.