July 1960 School Magazine

IuIy, l950

Brisbcrne Girls' Grcmmqr School Mcrgcrzine

Iuly, l9SO

Brisbcrne Girls' Grqmmcrr School Mcrgozine

A BOOK WORTFil REAT}II{G Of the books I have read within the last six months, "Cry the Beloved Country" stands out in my memory. The recent uprisings in South Africa have given this book a greater meaning for me and give point to my recommendation of it to you for your consideration. "Cty, the Beloved Countty" is a novel, the background of which is the racial problem of South Africa. It is written by a South African, Alan Paton, whose experience as principal of the Diekloof Reformatory in Johannesburg has obviously filled him with compassion for the coloured man, while not prejudicing him against the white man. The story concerns the search by a Zulu parson for his delinquent son, and his finding the boy charged with the murder of a Dutchman who has been working to help the native races. The record of the parson's stay in Johannesburg, which is told with a biblical simplicity of style is almost unbearably poignant. Mr. Paton's approach to the racial problem is unbiassed and full of compassionate sincerity, the fineness of character of both white man and native being just as clearly portrayed as the immorality of members of both races. "Cry, the Beloved Country" is a memorable book, both in style and subject matter. It left me with the memory of these words "No one wishes to make the problem seem smaller than it is, No one wishes to make its solution seem easy. No one wishes to make light of the fears that beset us. tsut whether we be fearful or flo, we shall never, because we are a Christian people, be able to evade the moral issues." DIANA SHOGREN, V.B"

TTItr TFilER.MAI, R.EGTOI{ On our recent tour of New Zealand, the part which we all enjoyed and were most interested in was our stay in Rotorua, New Zealand's thermal region. Of course, there af,e other such regions-in Japan, in Amerrca, in Iceland, in ltaly; but for sheer variety, for range of attractions in a relatively small compass, that of New Zealand's North Island is unique. The twenty mile strip of intense activity stretches from Mt. Ruapehu to the Bay of Plenty, but most of the princip al attractions are centred around Rotorua. In the centre of the town are the celebrated hot baths where people go to soothe weariness and relieve many complaints. The water is naturally pale green and is about eighty-four degrees Fahrenheit. A large number of the occupants of Rotorua have laid-on hot water from the natural steam vents in their front garden s. Perhaps the best known of the thermal attractions is Whak- arewarewa (Whaka). When approaching the village, one travels across a high wooden bridge from which the eager Maori children dive for coins dropped into the water below. Upon inspection one finds that the sand is quite hot while the stream adjacent to it is cold and in other outlets boiling water bubbles freely from the ground. At the entrance is a carved narrow gateway and inside a genuine Maori pah, storehouses and many other little huts all ornately decorated with wood carvings. Maori guides, whose leader, R.angi, is world renowned, are always on hand to explain points of interest. Next one arrives at the constantly-playing Maggie Papakura geyser, and close to it is the Champagne Pool. This pool is fathomless as yet. One unfortunate Maori chief, returning from a conference at night, walked straight into the boiling Champagne pool and a tribesman found his clothes floating on the surface next day. A little further along are the mud pools, a fascinating sight as they bubble slowly with a deep plopping sound and toss little globules of hot mud into the arr. We were all reluctant to leave Rotorua, and the night before our departure the Maoris gave us a farewell concert. The women and girls presented the dainty poi dances, while the men engaged in the warlike haka. At present my room is crammed with souvenirs, but a tiny brown-eyed Maori doll, complete with tiny pois in hand, will always be my favourite. ANNE R.EYNOLDS, III.E.

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