This is story #52 in the series “Where Exactly is Home?”. It’s the last story in the Rhodesian part of the author’s life. The author recommends you read them in order.
Introduction:
“Where Exactly is Home?” follows the story of my parents, my two younger brothers and me, Susan, who emigrated from war-battered Britain, in the mid-late 1950’s, to Southern Rhodesia, Africa.
The effects of this move on our family were huge, as we struggled to adapt to such a different way of life. Only after further upheaval, and more long-distance travelling, did our family eventually settle in the city of Salisbury, Rhodesia.
However, we did not know then that we would not remain there for the rest of our lives, either.
When the family first went to Africa, I, Susan, was 9 years old. My two brothers, John and Peter, were almost 7 and 4, respectively.
Nowadays, as seniors, John and Peter live in England. I live in Canada. Throughout our lives, we have both benefitted from, and suffered because of, our somewhat unusual childhood.
I, for one, still sometimes ask myself which country represents home to me.
This is a series of stories under the title “Where Exactly is Home?” – I recommend you read them in order, starting with story #1.
52. The Best Laid Plans…..
I was alone when the much-anticipated letter arrived. I stared at the envelope almost not daring to open it. Would it be good news or not? I understood that this missive could change my life forever. My heart was pounding as I tore open the envelope.
It was late January 1972. I was sharing a lovely apartment in a large house on the outskirts of Chelsea, London, with three girls one of whom I had first met in 1957. Her widowed mother had eventually returned from Rhodesia to England. Her daughter had joined her. Now I, too, was in England.
My friend and I were both in our early 20s, but unlike me she was well established, working as a flight attendant. She had a busy social life and numerous friends of both sexes. I envied her freedom and her way of life. I also loved hearing her tales of exotic places.
Even before I had left Rhodesia a month previously, I had decided to follow in her footsteps. I would apply for a position as a flight attendant at British Overseas Airways Corporation (BOAC). I was excited at the prospect. I had sent in all the requisite paperwork and was overjoyed when I was invited to an interview at Heathrow Airport.
I duly arrived at BOAC headquarters at the appointed hour. I felt confident. I soon discovered that my interview was to be a lengthy process, involving several different interviews in various departments. I had to undergo thorough medical and dental examinations, too. The entire process took all day. I knew I had a good chance of being accepted, though, because the interviewers were giving me positive feedback and, as far as I could see, I hadn’t failed any aspect of the hiring process. I was 24, I had to two university degrees, and I was fluently bilingual in English and French. Surely, I would be an asset to any airline.
