The fruit of the passion

I was once young and naive.  Really naive.

I grew up on a farm in the Western Transvaal.  I attended the local agricultural high school. We knew little to nothing about city life.  For fun we went to church gatherings, school concerts, and cattle auctions.  At school, the boys brewed "skelm" wheat beer which we then drank during breaks. The girls who had Cooking, Household Management and Home Nursing as subjects, supplied the eats at these gatherings. Very risky and illegal.

We were being prepared for rural living.

But I wanted to go to university.

It so happened that my dream came true, and off I went to the great city of Pretoria.
I was a first year student living in an annex to a university hostel, and life was exiting. Our annex was called "Lappop" (rag doll).We were five first year students in Lappop,  under the supervision of two senior ladies.

In those days it was a huge thing if a senior male student should show interest in a first year girl. All five of us were thrilled to bits when senior men came to serenade us after hours.  We were very strictly monitored.  On weekdays, we had to be indoors at eight o' clock in the evenings, and then we could not receive any visitors either.  The exceptions were Tuesdays (9:30), Fridays and Saturdays (midnight) and I think we had to be in at 10 on a Sunday evening. The seniors had to make sure that we were locked in.

These singers were a highlight at any time, but  it was extra special if a lonesome guitar-playing singer would sit on the steps to the "stoep" and serenade us. A couple of them actually became well-known in later years. One became a very successful songwriter and singer, whilst another also writes, sings and even added an acting career to his CV although he studied to become successful in a very different direction.

One night, this guy and one of his friends asked me and my roomie to accompany them to a local hotel where a singer (I think it was Stu Philips) were performing.  My roomie grew up in a mining community, and was much more street wise than me. We got special permission to come back after closing time, and off we went.

What a night it turned out to be! On our way to the hotel, I was silently reciting all the warnings my teachers and parents supplied me with before I became a student. I was not going to become a disappointment to my folks!

And they were right in warning me, I realised as soon as we sat down at our table.  We were offered drinks.  Roomie asked for passion fruit. I have never heard of passion fruit before, but I quickly deduced that it was some kind of an unholy mixer to get a girl drunk. Never would I be caught in such a way.

I knew about mampoer (but that was illegal then) and communion wine. So, I asked for Old Brown Sherry when it was offered.

We enjoyed the evening very much. I was a bit sceptic about my roomie, however.  She kept drinking that passion fruit stuff. The 'Old Men' even teased her about the fruit of the passion.  I could see with my own two eyes how she became drunk, laughed a lot, and was very talkative. I wanted to warn her, but I felt uncomfortable to do so. I kept to my decision to take only what I knew, and stuck to OBS.

The entertainer was super good. The evening was beyond thrilling, except for the nagging fear for my roomie and her irresponsible drinking.

We went back to Lappop very late that night.  Actually it was very early the next morning.The seniors were waiting for us. I foresaw doom and damnation. I just wanted to get my roomie into bed before something really bad would happen when the teasing started again.

This time I was the victim.  The old men told the seniors how much alcohol I consumed.  I drank glass after glass after glass of OBS, while my roomie only took passion fruit.

It was only then explained to me that passion fruit was "Grenadella syrup". I still don't drink passion fruit, but I also don't like sherry as much as I once did.