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BUNKING BUNKING This is a story I should have said at a reunion in Canberra, Australia several years ago. Mr Murray stood up at a dinner and asked ex students and teachers to tell a story which was a little shocking, no one had said before or just naughty. The penalty for that was a token of cash to be given to charity. Several people stood up and said their lot, paid the cash and everyone had a great laugh. I thought of an incident back in 1974 which I should have stood up and exposed myself but Ms Hawke was there and in respect of her choose not to. This has been gnawing at me for sometime so here goes, sorry to expose the guilty, but 30 years on who gives a rat. One cold rainy sunday afternoon as we sat around in Fernhill doing almost nothing some wiseass came up with an idea. A group of us would pool our money and someone would go up to NP and buy the momos, the word Bunk was not used. I recall that about 6 of the starving class 9 boys had pooled enough for 15Rps of steamed momos. Now the situation resembled "Who was going to tie the bell around the cat's neck" if anyone remembers the old fable. In walks the Stick Insect, aka Me, also known for my love of food(27slices of bread with sugar). I distinctly remember Sonam Rinchen, Sonam Prach & Tavorn eyeing me as though I was a walking Egg Bun. The deal was that if I got the momos I could have an equal share without putting any money in. Now in my younger more innocent days I used to think more with my stomach than what was directly below it, or for that matter, the highest point of my body so I said I would run the gauntlet, after all, it was pouring, no sports were being played, the boys were very persuasive and I swear I could hear growls coming from Tavorn's stomach which would make a Bengal Tiger retreat. Off I went through the main field, to the right, past the kitchens and up towards the infirmary. This route was best incase anyone should enquire. My logic was that only a half brained Jackass who was not sick would venture out in this rain. It was quiet, no one stirred at the Gardeners or Sister Thapas POW camp, the Bulldog's bastion (my last hurdle) was equally quiet and I was on fire, nothing could stop me now, I could almost taste the momos. I crossed the top field, checked both sides of the road, no one in sight. Shit, I thought to myself, the guys make such a big deal about Bunking, whimps! Onwards and upwards I went, confidence growing through every slippery step but I had to rest at the bend before St Joseph's field (I was half frozen and soaked). The final summit of Everest, I mean North Point bekoned and those beautiful steamed momos, can you taste them guys, even now after all those years?? The determination I had would have made Hilary & Tenzing look second rate. I swept around the corner, took in the view of the football field where MH had thrashed several teams in cricket and soccer and felt good. Head down, shoulder to the wind I began the summit. Something made me look up and there not 30 metres from me coming down the hill was Ms Hawke. Now I know what you guys are thinking, that I should be feeling a warm smelly trickle down the back of my legs, but that did not happen, least I dont remember. She had her head down and was pretty rugged up and did not see me. I could have competed in the 100metres sprint at any Olympics and held my own that afternoon. Screech around the corner of the winding road who should be stomping up the hill not 50 metres away was our own Rev Jones. There was a whiff in the air, I swear it was not me, but I spied those public toilets just on the S bend and could think of only one thing, HIDE. Blindly I dashed into one before either saw me enter, my heart pumping, my skin clammy, lack of oxygen, but more the lack of momos causing a slight dizzy spell. I thought I was safe.. for the time being. I felt a presence nearby before I actually saw this local woman in a full squat position, eyes wider than dinner plates, her vocal chords nano seconds from letting out the scream of her life when I had the presence of mind to cup her mouth,somewhat harshly and desperately. I could think of only one thing to save myself from charges of Bunking, Entering a Woman Public Lav, Attempting assault and possible molestation. I whipped out the 15 rupees, told her in Nepali to be quiet and not say anything because my teachers were out there she could have the money. Her despair and fear had the fastest mood swing in the history of humankind. She walked out richer in money and me with experience, I think I won. Needless to say the boys at Fernhill were not impressed and my stomach was probed for any undue bloating, my breath was smelled for residues of momos or Egg Buns but no one talked, it was a learing experience for them too. Needless to say we waited for Official permission(leave) to get our momos but somehow....I believe forbidden momos would have tasted better. OK GUYS AND GALS YOUR TURNS. LETS GET SOME REAL LIFE FUNNY AND NOT SO FUNNY MHS STORIES UP ON THIS CENTRE. Looking forward to it, Best Regards Alastaire Frederick (1972-74) class 7-9 By : Alistaire Frederick Graduated : 1972-1974 Date : 21/6/2003 17:4 |
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