Sunday, September 14, 2008

Xanthe Wynn-Jones

I don't remember how I met her, but one of my best friends in Kiritati was an girl from Great Britain, Xanthe Wynn-Jones. She went to school in Britain for much of the school year, but came back for the holidays. Somehow I got to know her, and we did some fun things together.

I believe it was her that invited me to a British Girls' Brownie Troop a couple of times. One day there I had an interesting experience as they were talking about Indians in the old American west. What happened next became a long standing family joke. They were talking about the noise the Indians would make, and to demonstrate, they put an index finger in their mouth, with the mouth puckered up, and moved the finger up and down while making a "hoo" kind of sound. It did sound a lot like the sound we usually think of, but I'd NEVER seen it done that way. I just stood there staring at them. Here, I was the real American in the group, and they didn't think to ask me...! After that, whenever we heard or saw a kid playing cowboys and Indians, and someone calling out an "Indian cry", we laughed in rememberence!

I stayed overnight at Xanthe's house in Bikenibeu a few times. It was she, her parents, and an older brother, and I can't remember for sure, but maybe a younger brother too? Anyway, it was there at their house that I learned that spaghetti sauce should be put over the top of the spaghetti noodles, not mixed in with the pasta. Ha! The joys of a huge family! I also discovered ABBA while I stayed at their house. They even made me a tape copy of their "Ring! Ring!" record album so that I could listen to it on cassette at my house. I went on to buy several of their albums over the years. They are still one of my all time favorite groups!

When I stayed at their house, I was ALWAYS up WAY before Xanthe, (except once). I'd get up by 7 a.m., while she'd sleep until 11 or so. I'd spend the time reading from books she had in her room. It was wonderful. The once that I slept in was the morning I was supposed to be home earlier than usual, and they had to awaken me - it was a surprise to us all.

Her father was a teacher at Tarawa Teachers' College there. That was funny once because of what Mr. Wynn-Jones did when I had to teach one of my dad's "ESL" classes when he was in the hospital with a ruptured appendix. Mr. Wynn-Jones gave me a letter from the Teachers' College, "rejecting my application," ha ha.

Xanthe was good for me, and I know my parents encouraged that relationship. It was a bit of a taste of the "real world" back home. I have no idea where she is now, but I appreciate the friendship we shared.

1 comment:

gphowlett said...

Xanthe's father had you take the entrance exam for the Tarawa Teachers' College, and he told me that you had passed all parts of the examination except for the Kiribati language. They had to deny you entrance to the college on account that you couldn't communicate in Kiribati. It was supposed to be quite a joke, but he told me that you had actually passed all of the other parts of the exam with higher scores than some of their best applicants. That helped him realize how he needed to design the curriculumn to train local teachers.