Onwards and Upwards

'Onwards and Upwards' was my grammar school's motto in London. Camden School for Girls. Established by the 19th century education pioneer Frances Mary Buss, it was an amazing place with a very strong feminist tradition.  We were told we can do anything we want, BECAUSE WE ARE WOMEN. Of course reality was somewhat different. Eight of us wanted to be doctors, but only one made it. You guessed - she came from a family of Old Boys at the medical school she attended. (I forget which, and I understand she was an outstanding doctor, who unfortunately passed away a number of years ago.) Nevertheless, I think you can tell a Camden Girl if you have met one. Most of us are forthright, creative, interesting and involved with our communities.

Why am I reminiscing about Camden? Maybe because today is a beautiful, in fact balmy, spring day. My garden is blooming, thanks to the minimal effort I put in - with some help from friends - to tame the jungle I inherited when I moved in here last year.

Gardening is very important to me. I am definitely NOT a great gardener. Nevertheless, I love to putter and dig the earth. Maybe it reminds me of my childhood when I was sent off to Felsőgöd to stay with my aunt Giza and uncle Ernő Fazekas for the summer. In those post-war years (we are talking 1950-1954) the quaint town of today was a third world village. The roads were damped down earth, with geese monopolising the centre. There was no electricity or running water. The well in the yard served our water needs and acted as the refrigerator as well.

Each house had a patch of land – maybe half an acre, perhaps more – where my uncle had at least 8-10 fruit trees, and he cultivated all of the fruits and vegetables the family needed: 8 varieties of Hungarian peppers, apples, pears, strawberries, rasberries, potatoes, lettuce, etc, etc. There was a mouser cat, whose litters were carefully drowned in the big bucket, and chicken for fresh eggs. I don't know if aunt Giza actually killed the chicken. It was probably uncle Ernő who had to do it. He worked from dawn to dusk as aunt Giza's favourite phrase to him was: Can you please cut some wood while you are having a break? Indeed, everything was done with wood – cooking and heating. So, uncle was always very busy. In the first couple of years of my stay I played with the village kids. We stole fruit from the neighbours, took the animals grazing in the communal farm lands around the village, and helped with the harvest. All this stopped in the third year of my summer visits. Evidently, it became known that we were Jewish and I was not welcome in some homes anymore. That split the village. The old folk took pity on me and invited me in to help myself to their fruit. This made me a traitor in the eyes of the other kids, which made my life confusing and very solitary. In the end, I spent most of my time helping uncle Ernő with the garden, cultivating my own veggies and playing pretend herding when I was done. No wonder I refused to be sent there after I turned 10.

Wow, I haven't thought about  Felsőgöd in decades. Maybe it's this cancer. Tunde has been urging me to write my memoir for years and now I find that I am beginning to worry that I may have left it too late. What if I don't have another 10 years? Indeed, what if?

So, back to the present. As I said, today is a beautiful day. My nose has stopped bleeding and my head is clear for hours at a time. I 'feel' energetic, but when I start moving, I tire easily. For the past couple of days I've been busy slowly cleaning my apartment, washing clothes and bedding and doing the everyday things that have been left undone for a week. All this very slowly, with long periods of TV watching, computer games, answering emails and checking Facebook. I guess that's what hip Camden School For Girls grandmas do when they tune out from having to deal with nasty nasty Big C and its' medications side effects. I can see the light at the end of this tunnel, and so I fall back on the old school motto: Onwards and Upwards.