Cultureshock

You need Adobe Flash installed to watch this movie.
Get Adobe Flash

Video transcript

After Sunday School every week my treat was to call at Auntie Lil's for tea.  Mum called it Uncle Bill's but to me it would always be Auntie Lil's.  Uncle Bill, to my mind, was surly and mean but I would never stop going there because Auntie Lil was so sweet, gentle and kind.

On arrival at their home in Ninth Street, tea was always ready and once we had eaten Uncle Bill would settle down in the only armchair in front of the kitchen  fire and gradually fall asleep.  While we waited I got to brush Auntie Lil's hair - a wonderful experience because she sat in a high backed chair and hung her hair over the back.  It was a tiring process because her hair reached the floor and if it touched I got to take the scissors to it!  After 100 brushes I then got to gather it at the nape of her neck and begin a plait which, when completed, I would watch in wonder while she wound it in various styles around her head. Such faith she had in a six to seven year old child.

Then came the real treat, quietly we moved into the forbidden front room, careful not to wake the sleeping ogre. All the most precious items were here, not to be touched, but Auntie Lil knew how to entertain.  She would get out of the cabinet what I now know was her beautiful coffee set (I thought it was a doll's tea set.) We would spend a magic time together learning the intricacies of high tea.  It was, I thought, a game, one I never tired of and looking back I wonder about my aunt's upbringing. I get the feeling that she wanted me to be able to move in higher circles and I know now, that beneath that work weathered face was a true lady who had me among all her nieces. When she died, my cousin was shocked by my tearful reaction to her willing me that coffee pot, the only remaining piece of the set I had enjoyed learning with as a child.