F e a t u r e s
How to wear a balaclava
loos. Inevitably, the improvement of this under-used facility becomes my hobbyhorse for the year and astonishingly, we do actually achieve some changes. There are quite a few jobs for dependants within MPA – but many of us were constrained by babies etc and watched with envy while those that could get jobs, did. The rest of us spent many a long hour in the Community Centre!
PM: Bunko. My introduction to a superb dice-game played by military wives around the world. Having now played elsewhere, I realise that there are some strange Falklands Bunko peculiarities (such as the plastic be- penguinned shower cap the Bunko Queen must wear…). I too was initially put off by this kinky gung-ho-ness but soon found it as normal as anything else at MPA.
July 16. Darwin House… Now, I was quite excited by this. Lots of people had told us we just had to go there, it was fantastic. In fact, Darwin House is the only other retail establishment outside of MPA for miles and miles and miles. They sell homemade tea and cakes and you can stay overnight, but it was somewhat of a let down after such a build up! To be fair, a slap up tea is probably a bit of an occasion on a four month unaccompanied tour…
July 17. Church. It’s a tiny modern church inside what they call the Death Star. This is a mile-long corridor off which are most of the day-to-day facilities – gym, coffee shop, WRVS, barber, Naafi, something called the SIF (never did know what that was) and I’m sure lots more I never got round to finding. I think the point is that people can visit all these places without going outside and dying of cold, or wasting ‘valuable’ time togging and de-togging. I’m told that some people can manage an entire tour without ever leaving The Corridor.
In the afternoon we swim. It’s all free, and the Olympic size pool is fantastic. Humph learnt to swim while we were there, partly, I’m sure, because the shallow end was far too deep for him to touch the bottom!
www.raf-families-federation.org.uk
Typical weather
In places like this many activities take place only because there happens to be a dependant who has a particular skill. While we were there, Ellen, Tara and Claire made cakes, Tracy offered swimming lessons and exercise classes, Martin did fishing, Stevie did beading and scrapbooking, Anita sold jewellery, I made hats (and ran a fat club with Claire), Leonora painted, Yvonne, Donna, Tara and Jo ran Rockhoppers and so on. TOP TIP: take a hobby. Preferably one that results in something you can sell, or swap; throw in a cup of coffee and you’re away.
July 21. Meet and Greet for wives. I think this is something they do on other stations, but the speed of arrival and departure in the Falklands, and the impact thereof on such a tiny community, means that they assume a greater importance. The format of publicly welcoming someone, and ditto saying goodbye is fairly excruciating for the people involved but a great excuse for a monthly party. If you ever manage to get hold of a following extract of this interminable diary, you will see that I managed to infect both my children with e-coli and get sent home a month early, simply in order to get out of my Meet and Greet de-brief!
July 22. You need a key to get to Bertha’s Beach and getting to it is a bit of a palava. It involves pre-booking one of only two keys, picking it up before the Com Sec (who?) shuts on Saturday morning or from the gate police later. Only two keys ensures a large empty beach which is beautiful. We are very excited to see our first gentoo penguins. TOP TIP: silk long johns: it was COLD.
PM: It’s Friday evening, the children are crying and arguing over which DVD is playing and who has taken all the ketchup, the other people in the Mess are trying to ignore the fact that we were all rude enough not only to bring our children into the hallowed recesses of the Mess but to allow them Eat and the parents are clutching alcohol as though it’s going out of fashion*. Yes, it’s Families’ Happy Hour. But for want of any alternative, we all go religiously most Fridays. The only other
Our usual bus
time the children are allowed in the Mess is Sunday lunch. So for most parents it is out of bounds apart from this – hence my crusade for the Community Centre to be made into more of a Families’ Mess. (* There was in fact one appalling evening when the Mess Ran Out of Tonic.)
July 23. To Newhaven, near Goose Green. A fabulous bay with a large gentoo colony. I wonder how many pictures I will take over the year! It’s hard to stop.
July 26. I am initiated into the mysteries of the Naafi Bulk Stores and the Families Rations Shop. Both run by St Helenans, or Saints, the former is a warehouse full of loo paper and stuff, rather daunting to find and wander into, but once you’ve got the hang of it… Every month I bought a box of chocolate bars for Andrew and a box of Chilean red wine for me. When I arrived I assumed that we were to be doled out actual rationed rations per family – fortunately this was not the case but there was usually an ugly rush for the chicken kievs and smoked cheese when the plane had come in. We ate huge quantities of pasta, rice, fish fingers and frozen veg over the year. Both my boys have a passion for pasta with pesto and it was some time before I found the shop in Stanley that stocked pesto. In fact my ultimate low point on the children/food front came when Henry refused to eat even pasta and pesto. I’d foolishly issued some ultimatum that I really didn’t want to carry out and was desperate for him to eat the damn stuff. Finally, to my eternal shame, I put 100s and 1000s on it. It worked.
July 29. End of term. The long Summer/ Winter holidays begin. I remember clearly one day in the playpark, standing pushing a balaclava’d child in each swing, while my nose got colder and colder. Reluctant to return to the scout hut, sorry, house, I stick it out until the thought of the embarrassment of actually getting frostbite in my nose sends me home. I do have my own balaclava but can’t wear it in public for fear of being locked up…
Autumn 2008 9
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