Ann Berryman - Part 1

After he was demobbed in 1946 my father, Mark Berryman, applied to the Crown Agents for a position as Civil Engineer with PWD in Aden. In early 1947 we – Mark and Alice Berryman and 10 year old daughter Ann, were on the troopship ‘Empire Ken’ sailing to Aden. Mother and I were in a six berth female cabin and I presume father was similarly accommodated in a male cabin.

Bum-Boats at Port Said alongside the Empire Ken 12th April 1947

My only remembrance of the voyage were the ‘bum boats’  in Port Said and the ongoing lectures on board about the dangers of mosquitoes and malaria. (In eight years in Aden I never saw or heard a mosquito or used a mosquito net).

The Government houses of this period were in Crater, other civilians lived in houses in Ma’alla. At this time there were only two blocks of flats in Ma’alla, I think one was for B.A.T. (British American Tobacco) staff.

Our first home was a large and airy double storey house close to the Sultan’s Palace in Crater and overlooking Sira Island. (see photo below)

Coming from a London terraced-house this seemed like a palace with its large rooms, deep verandahs and black shiny tiled floors. The colour of these tiles seems strange but they deadened the glare from the bright sun outside although they must have been difficult to clean after a sandstorm.

Dr. Goodman's House in Crater

We were house-sitting for a family on long leave (Dr and Mrs Goodman) so we eventually had to move across the sand into a charming low rise house on various levels that had been the hospital in the 30s. (see photo below)

We had what was probably the only garden in Crater as in the hospital years soil had been brought from Sheikh Othman and planted with different coloured bougainvilleas and jasmine. The ‘mali’ made irrigation channels in the soil around each plant and kept them well watered.

The interior features of these and the subsequent houses we lived in were similar. There were punkahs over the lounge and dining area and in the bedrooms. To a child the punkah over the bed was frightening as it rattled and shook and threatened to fall and decapitate you – or so I imagined. Air-conditioning in bedrooms became available in the 50s but my mother refused it saying it was unhealthy.

Former Crater Hospital

The furniture was the same, the chairs and settees made of wooden slats with cushions covered with your own material from the bazaar. This could have unforeseen consequences as when my mother went to her first dinner party at Government House and found her newly-made dress perfectly matched the seat covers!   In the early days the beds were the local charpoys made from rope on a wooden frame with a mattress on top, they were supposedly cooler than a conventional bed. The best part of the ‘hospital house’ was the covered sleeping verandah on the roof where you could lie and listen to the sounds from the bazaar and even hear the sea.

Although there was electricity for lights and punkahs, cooking was done on a paraffin stove and the fridge ran on paraffin too. 

Shopping for fresh food was done in the bazaar by mother and our bearer who accompanied her. Disgusting deep fried sheep’s brains and lady’s fingers were some of the results of shopping expeditions and it was only later I learned that lady’s fingers were not animal but vegetable – okra. All vegetables and fruit had to be washed before eating or cooking in purple potassium permanganate and meat, chicken or lamb (perhaps goat?), was washed in vinegar to take away any ‘off’ smells. All this changed when the cold storage depot was built in Ma’alla, I think in the early 50s, and a wider range of food was imported  - including delicious tinned butter and cheese.  

Ali, our bearer

Did we need so many servants to run these houses? The bearer was a superior fellow in his long whites with a red fez; he was in charge of the other servants and waited at table. The cook had an assistant, there was an inside and outside sweeper (a cleaner); when we had a garden there was a mali, and a chowkidar kept watch from dusk till dawn.

When my sister was born we had a tall and stately Somali ayah to look after her who was clad in dazzling white flowing garments. (see photo)  The emporiums of Bhicajee Cowasjee and Cowasjee Dinshaw in Tawahi had a selection of household goods and clothes and the English Chemist, run by Mr. Rodrigues, stocked Elizabeth Arden cosmetics.

Our Somali Ayah

But the best place to be whilst mother shopped was on the verandah of the Blue Bay Restaurant in the gardens under the watchful eye of Queen Victoria; here you could have a delicious watery ice-cream in a glass dish.

There was a small dark shop like a museum where my father would take me to see  two stuffed mermaids – dugongs – which I found horrid but fascinating. Looking at the photo of the Aziz bookshop on this web site reminds of the mermaids lair, were they one and the same place? My parents had a Hungarian friend in one of the Ma’alla flats called Dr Holub and when we children visited he took out his glass eye and put it into his pink gin. Children remember the more macabre events!

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