This is story #41 in the series “Where Exactly is Home?”. 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.
41. The Telephone
“Why don’t any of you answer the phone? It is fine to answer it while we are here, you know!” So, our guests might say during a visit to our house in the outlying suburbs of Salisbury.
We would stare at them in bemusement, replying something along the lines of “What?! What do you mean?” and then, a second later, adding, “Oh, OK! Has the phone been ringing, then?! We didn’t hear it.”
Our guests were astonished. “How can you not hear it?!”, someone might exclaim.
The phone sat on a table in our living room, just a few feet away, and the four of us in our family at that time were maintaining that we hadn’t heard it. How was that even possible? My parents were in their early 40s, and certainly not deaf.
“Yes, the phone has rung several times”, our guests might say, before assuring us again that it was all right by them if we wanted to answer it.
Then, my mother explained.
We answered the phone only when it rang with our personal ring tone of 4 longs: RING-RING-RING-RING. All other tones were for the 12 houses in the neighbourhood who shared the party line with us. We had become so used to tuning out the other ring tones that we didn’t hear them anymore. So, two short rings (ring-ring) were the code for our next-door neighbour and three longs and one short (RING-RING-RING-ring) meant that the call was for another neighbour further down the road.
With so many families sharing that single party line, the phone rang frequently, but everyone involved answered only their own ring tone. What amazed me was that it didn’t take very long for all of us to tune out the other ring tones. We simply didn’t hear them.
As a young lady who was dating and receiving calls from my boyfriend, to finalize arrangements for going out, for instance, and calls to and from my parents, to arrange my rides, and the like, I found the phone system frustrating. I am sure they did, too.
