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Partners
As an expat I still read the newspapers, talk to my family and of course reminisce about things that happened at a place far away and a long time ago. But they are still as dear to me as they were then but now in a different space-time.
My Mistress
During my second year at Stellenbosch University I had a mistress and she was beautiful. And like most mistresses she could raise your passion to the sky, only to plunge you into the depth of despair without notice. But she was mine and I loved her.
Her name was Jasmien, a 1937 Plymouth four door sedan that had seen hard times. After weeks of haggling with the owner about the price, I bought her at a scrap yard in Kraaifontein for the exorbitant sum of twenty South African pounds (this was before decimalization). I had worn him down with all my hard luck stories although I think the kicker was when I, on the third or fourth visit wore my Matie (University of Stellenbocsh) blazer to prove that I was really a student at Stellenbosch. He was an avid supporter of the Matie rugby team and when I told him I had a rugby scholarship which did not even cover all my expenses, he relented and I was the new proud owner of Jasmien. I wisely left out the fact that I had been measured and not found good enough for the Matie rugby team.
Back to Jasmien! She was not a beauty and her engine did not purr like a cat. She had six pistons of which four were working whilst the other two were clapping hands. (Hence the term coined by mechanics – piston slap). Her eyes were not bright and shiny , if you were parked under a lamppost and wanted to know whether the lights were on, you either had to get out and look or ask somebody outside the car. Most of her original paint, a dark blue, had become dull with corrosion blotches covering her once lovely skin.
I know what you are thinking:” how the hell did you get her licensed? Simple: Magic! ; plus two cases of the best sauvignon Blanc in the country donated to the cause by my friend, the son of the owner of a well-known wine farm. Factor in, that without the University plus the student body, the town’s economy would free fall. Thus there was this unwritten agreement that if you kept your vehicle which was questionable, out of sight, drive very carefully observing the municipality traffic rules, if you did not transgress municipality regulations pertaining to parking, speed, reckless driving and such things, you would be reasonably safe against any form of bureaucracy and/or overzealous police oversight.
After acquiring and towing Jasmien to my hostel in Stellenbosch things proceeded at a pace to get her up and running so that our love affair could be consummated.
During that summer of 57 she transported my friends and I to the local beaches where we would drink wine, ogle and leer at the girls in their bikini’s and in general just annoy everybody else on the beach as young men is wont to do.
Stellenbosch during winter time presented a big problem for young men with the juices of life pounding in their veins, which was, where to find a place to date or make out with a girlfriend. During the Cape winter Stellenbosch became the rain capital of South Africa with incessant rain that could last for days, even weeks. The ladies’ hostels had very few rooms available where you can sit and chat or do whatever your need was. So to be together, it was a café, a movie house, a restaurant all of which required money and did not really offer privacy. I can assure you sitting on a bench in a park under an umbrella getting wet is not what it’s cracked up to be, plus there were not many takers for that scene from the female fraternity.
Then I had my Eureka moment! I had a car that I could hire out for spooning to prospective clients, of which there were many and derive an income to pay for running expenses. Thus I would drive Jasmien to Coetzenburg and park her under the trees. The keys were kept by me as I did not want anybody else to drive her. At ten shielings for a period from seven to ten was not an exorbitant price and soon Jasmine was in great demand. After ten pm the price went up by another ten shielings for two hours. That normally was the latest that any hostel girl was allowed once per semester.
At some stage Jasmien’s services were in such demand that I thought of putting a partition between the front and the back seat and so double my income. My clientele quickly killed that idea. Of course I also had to schedule some time for my girlfriend (later my wife) and me to have those very serious and important geo-political discussions such as , who will be victorious in the cold war between the USA and Russia, what is happening to the South African Economy or will Stellenbosch win the Intervarsity against Cape Town University.
At the end of that first winter I had made enough money to thank my mistress with four reasonable second hand tires. Must say the old girl looked quite swanky with the newly painted black tires. (Even thought about painting the tire walls white like mafia cars but that was vetoed by the expert of good taste.
During the summer holiday of that year, I was stationed at AFB Ysterplaat in Cape Town. My friend Stoffies, (he was allocated this nickname on account of him being very short and the point was made that if he farted the dust (stof) swirled up behind him), had a girlfriend Nolene Loewenstern. She stayed in Fontainebleau on the slopes of Devils Peak. As he had no transport it happened that I would deliver him at the Loewenstern’s castle (they were a very affluent family), at a price of course, and then go to wherever I was going. I was often invited in and came to know the family quite well.
Mr. Loewenstern had a number of idiosyncrasies, one of which was that although he did own a Bentley limousine he never drove it. He had a chauffeur that drove him to work and wherever he wanted to go. However after taking the boss home he, the chauffeur, would drive the car to a security garage in Maitland, park the car, lock up, and then walk a short distance to the train station for his ride home. The result being that whenever the family or any one of the family needed transport they would call a taxi service.
One night Stoffies had invited me to drive him and Nolene to the movies in the Central city. As Jasmien did not have enough oomph to go up the hill I reversed up the street as far as I could get, parked her and walked to the house. On entering it was obvious that there was a crisis. Voices were shouting back and forth whilst I saw Mr. L slam down the phone muttering “God damn taxis, never one when you need it” He looked , saw me and said,” Johan, am I glad to see you. You came by car right.” (He had never seen Jasmien).
It transpired that Mrs. Loewenstern was the chairperson of some or other charity that was having a fund raising function in the Cape Town City town hall for Israel. The problem was, no chauffeur , no transport, and no taxi available. And so it came about that Jasmien was going to transport a very classy, diamond spangled lady to the town hall.
She took one look at Jasmien and said ”good Gawd Johan is that the famous Jasmien?” got in and said “let’s go, I am going to be late.”
When we got to the city hall vehicles that were delivering the guests consisted of Bentley’s, Jaguars, Mercedes Benzes etc. and of course Jasmien. Mrs. L by this time was in the swing of things and directed me to deliver her right at the main entrance. There were quite a few smiles in that crowd when the 1937, long past her prime, blue car stopped with a clatter of pistons slapping hands and me holding open the door for a very special lady who stepped out with aplomb.
After that episode Jasmien and I was the butt of some good humor among the Loewenstern family and friends.
Alas there comes an end to all love affairs. Having finished my stint at University I was posted to Saldanha Bay (a little fishing village) which was approximately 120 miles from Stellenbosch. Jasmien was replaced by a much newer vehicle that could cover the distance in a reasonable time and also with reliability. She was put to pasture but still used mostly for recreational purposes. If for some reason mostly financial), I did not go to visit my girlfriend at Stellenbosch , we would use her to run amongst the sand dunes hunting snakes. Shooting snakes with a slingshot from the running board of a car whilst traveling at some speed amongst the sand dunes was our way of passing the time on a Sunday when the world had signed off as it does in a small fishing village. This pounding was not good for my mistress and soon I had to put her out to pasture. She was deposited behind a shed on a sheep farm where to my knowledge she still might be today.
