Domestic Help And Food In 1970s South Africa!

Different customs and habits made life so different, as far as the East is from the West – How would I adapt to domestic help and food in 1970s South Africa!

Brace yourself before diving into a country’s habits. That tiny etiquette can be entirely different from how you were raised and unfortunately, I learn everything the hard way.

Tea-Time Anyone?

Adjusting to a new country is a major big deal and any forewarning is an advantage.
You don’t know what is a faux pas until you’ve done it; I tried not to mess up too badly.

The rules were there to taunt me: Tea Time was like a sacred ritual, promptly at 11 a.m. and 4 p.m. OR whenever people dropped by to visit… which was often.

My larder – pantry – was the VIP lounge in my kitchen! It was stocked with homemade goodies like cakes, cookies, and lemon squares – it was taking on a life of its own, like mold.

There was no Sara Lea in this country and you could not have an empty larder. Everything had to be made from scratch, with lots of choices.

I could see women shaking their heads: “How will she ever be ready for tea with an empty larder? How will she feed drop-in guests”?

Here’s the thing: Up until now, I never really cooked much.

Four years later I learned there was a “t’huisnewerhet” – and I am sure I spelled it wrong!

These were great cooks who baked their favorite recipes which were available from a central home. You could make requests – in case you needed to stock up on your empty larder!

Everything was homemade and packaged in front of you… Four-wasted-years!

My First Meet And Greet!

On weekends, we were welcomed by our new colleagues and their families. The crowds were large and even though this was predominantly an Afrikaans area, everyone appeared frightfully British… friendly and refined.

The entire assessment of us took place around a “braai,” in the backyard.
Braai – is the go-to term for barbeque.

As I tasted my perfectly cooked burger, a kinship formed. I vowed to get to know these people and eat al fresco as often as possible.

Being a food enthusiast held significant sway and I wanted to try everything. This was not a land of picky eaters. My appreciation for anything edible put us on many guest lists.

My goals were to absorb their polished etiquette and master the art of culinary flair… this was taking on a lot. (Hospitality in its true form)

I explored their food and discovered their restaurants. I love to eat – this was not a punishment.

I was determined to learn all about Domestic Help And Food In 1970s South Africa!

It took me about five minutes to get used to the idea, but there were formalities involved which I was not privy to in the beginning. I was s-o-o-o green!

A new person like myself, not settled into a “forever” home, with no children… unless I settled down I would not have the domestic help that would be part of my family.

This was Customary? …

I had to navigate the territory between common sense and proprietorship – I had no idea this could be so all-consuming. It was a lot more fun after I got my early bad choices out of the way.

In the early days, Miriam stayed with us and she called me “madam”.
I reveled in the title – I loved it!

Miriam wanted to know what her role was alongside me in my home – instructions that I could not communicate because we never had a home before.

She knew more about organization than I did and my inner Martha Stewart decided to wing it for a while. This gave me time to learn the process.

It was nice to have a clean house, the bed was always made. Everything was tidy! When Miriam attempted to prepare our meals that is when the takeover stopped.

I did the cooking. I was determined to become the second galloping gourmet (Graham Kerr) … Now, I could express myself in the kitchen, and have a clean house!

My Mom Had A BFF…

When we moved to Glenstantia, Lena stayed at the house. It was better for her bus route and she liked the area. Lucky me!

My Mom, Jane, and her BFF, Ernestine, visited South Africa over the summer, Christmas, and school holidays in 1984.

I enjoyed having them as guests; they marveled at everything … it was all so new. ”What are kippers? … No way! … For breakfast? … What, NO muesli?” I had a lot to explain.
(“Beyond The Headlines Of 1970s South Africa!”)

Mom’s most pressing questions were about our present housekeeper, Lena, and the young lad, September, who appeared on Saturday to help me in the garden.

She would ask “What is it like, not being committed to housework? There must be some problems?… What’s the catch?”

My Mom asked me how I could stand to have a stranger living in my house… Mom, who never met a Molly Maid in her life, ran a tight ship for eight people.
The mere thought excited her!

A Routine Saturday For Mom

Lena took immense pride in her work and treated my home as her own.
People like me needed a Lena!

She was one of those lovely people… she was fun and great company. She let nothing distract her from her work; she loved what she did.

My student-garden-helpers name was September – yes, born in that month – but his friends called him “Semmer”.

On Saturdays, Semmer appeared at the stable door in the kitchen to talk to Lena. He had a crush on her – the nice older woman in his life.

One Saturday I walked into the kitchen and I saw Semmer’s head – he had shaved it! While Lena, Mom, and Ernestine laughed, Semmer danced around the room showing off his shiny dome.

Mom and Ernestine were both from large French-Canadian families and fell into step. They said Semmer was a good dancer.

Mom was constantly distracted by Lena – and who could blame her? Several rolls of film were used while Lena became a runway model before our eyes.

Off came her shoes and apron as she skipped over the lawn. She had her broom and held it like a long-barreled rifle.

Mom could have sold a magazine with these pictures…
And Lena smiled brightly into the camera.

And The Food Part Would Be…?

It Started With Mozambique Prawns…

I learned to eat African style, and in Cape Town, I fell in love with Mozambique prawns... freshly caught today. They were the size of lobsters!

It was surprisingly inexpensive to dine out.
No matter what you ate or where you ate, alfresco was always better.

Bobotie…

When Mom tasted Bobotie she said, “This is exactly what I would expect from this country”. High praise!

Minced meat, herbs, dried fruit, and aromatic spices, all baked with milk and egg custard on top… there is a pull of Indian spices and Malay influences.

I bet you’re hungry now!

I have the recipe and will give it to anyone who asks for it in the comments.

Sizzelling Boerewors!

From the early 1800s, the Boers carried this secret recipe forward for many generations.

The meat can be dried and cured with seasoning and will last for many months in the African heat.

Boerewors means “farmer’s sausage” and 50% of men still make their own.

The flavor is outstanding and the aroma pulls you in. (You can make them too!)

Boerewors is not just any sausage! It’s a testament to the country’s love of the grill.

Koeksisters…

Every eligible bachelorette would say, “I can make Koeksisters” and I wondered what that meant. These girls were announcing that they were marriage-ready material.

The secret message is that you had to be a good baker to pull this off! I can only compare it to baklava.

For koeksisters, the dough is braided 6 inches long and deep-fried until golden. Thennn, the hot doughy braid is dipped into a cold honey syrup spiced with cinnamon and ginger… I have got to cut this out!

The hot pastry soaks up the cold honey syrup, and the outside is crisp and slightly chewy.

The cook was beaming as she watched syrup run down our arms.
We licked our fingers; we couldn’t leave any of it behind!

No, please don’t ask me for the recipe – get a master chef to teach you this one. I will not be responsible.

The Last Word On Food…

We had so many choices!

Foodie’s Paradise:

In all my travels I had no idea what kind of food would be offered until we got there.
It became the nicest surprise in my life.

Add to that the company and the setting – the experience was truly memorable. Dining alfresco seemed to elevate everything; the atmosphere was warm and unique to them.

These people had no idea how diverse and rich their food sources were; they had everything good to eat.

They didn’t understand how well off they were because they had nothing to compare it to.

Adventures In The Kitchen Garden…

It was easy to grow food but it was a marathon of wits to see who would benefit first, me or the jungle out there.

Little rabbits hopped around, so cute … and they ate the carrots.

The birds were in this too and poked a hole into every ripe tomato – as if they couldn’t eat just one.

I didn’t mind sharing, but I was going to win this.

I learned you can stop critters from eating up your garden by putting a deterrent on the ground: like garlic salt, or cayenne pepper.

I only had to do it once in a season – that’s all it took! Haha!

The soil remained unharmed and my lettuce grew in peace!
It’s a win-win. (Which Bugs Eat The Bugs?)

In Summary:

The foreign legion will get you:

I have mentioned before how foreign customs can change your thinking but learning about them is important.

I was in fear of performing a gaff but sometimes that happens because too many people are giving advice.

Promise me two things:

1. Speak your language correctly so your new friends can learn it correctly. Never use pigeon English… it’s not fair to them.

2. Never teach someone an unbecoming phrase that will give everyone a laugh, but will cause the speaker embarrassment… my friend learned this the hard way.

Meet and greet:

The people were very different from me and I expected these introductions to be intimidating.

I need not have worried. In Mom’s words, “It’s different here, but not so different”.
Mom was pointing out, in her wisdom, that people are the same everywhere.

And yet our similarities separate us too.

This was customary?

Nearly everyone had domestic help of some kind. Certainly having garden help was essential because it was tropical and everything grew very fast.
You needed to stay on top of it.

Mom and Ernestine:

What can I say that I did not say before? This was a wonderful trip and they visited for five weeks over the summer/Christmas of 1984.
(Celebrating Christmas with Mom in SA)

Grow your own food:

Gardening always had some challenges and when something was munching on the bottle brush, you’d better act quickly or it could be denuded this afternoon.

This was about self-sufficiency and the jungle is aggressive.

A-men!

Were you ever in a situation where you were presented with food that you never heard of before? Were you afraid it would move on the plate?

Did you live in a country where the customs were different from your own?
How did you adjust? How did it influence your life?

Please ask for the bobotie recipe in the comments below…
And, does anyone know how to spell “t’huisnewerhet“?

I would love to hear from you and I will get back to you within 24 hours.

Regards, Corinne :-)))