December 3, 2013
As a Zimbabwean girl I had never seen a baby in a pram until I came to the Netherlands. It seemed natural that a newborn baby was immediately transported in a cart. It seemed natural that if a baby was born it was actually straight to his room to sleep and then the mom 20 times a night to it would go to feed and or lull.
In Africa, I had never seen, especially in rural areas where more than two children would sleep with mom and dad in the same room, what we call co-sleeping.
Maybe the right thing
Before I had children, I thought, baby wearing and breastfeeding maybe belongs to the poor people who have no money to buy prams and all those so-called useful resources that are now seen as commercial unnecessary basics.
I was from an early age to a girl who look beyond her own nose. My mother encouraged me in the things I was curious about.
I was rather the only one of hundreds of its own opinion, as I stood behind my positive intuition and believed in it.
In the Netherlands we were in the Statenkwartier where my brother and his family and I stayed.
Since there were enough expats in The Hague, I could easily go to the colleagues of my brother to babysit and clean.
Enough people were very satisfied and wanted to be helped by me. Thanks to my parents who encouraged me so and so was positive in life.
Everything was good, even more help neighborhoods with carrying their babies.
My mother had an old sewing machine(Singer)manually operated. It just started with individuals who applied uniforms on their own size. Even patchwork and crochet was mainly her hobby. I could help with the little things, it began
by filling a bobbin (coil).
Unfortunately my mother deceased in 2002, but I have learned a lot from her, and that made the way I am now. Are simple.
My children will hopefully learn the same, although it is a little different than what I have learned just because we’re still being influenced by others and generations.
My father worked outdoors, he was often on the bike. We had school vacations every 3 months, so we immediately would go straight to the village in the countryside where my parents had a farm and ranch.
They had cattle, gardens and more land where everything was, where we walked kilometers to fetch water. As we arrived at the last bus stop we had to walk 10 kilometers before we reached our village. My father taught me how to pack a lot into a small bag, spatial awareness, I believe. Oh a little too emotional story to tell, but I lost it. Now my parents are gone, I find solace in all that they have taught me.
Our huts and a piece of land
Mountains and views from our farmP1000237