Theologians are faced with a similar problem. There was an interesting story written a while back, about a man living in a world of robots. He set out to find something natural, but died amongst artificial roses, weeping and cursing with the knowledge that he himself was not real. Does man indeed possess a spirit which a machine cannot comprehend? Can protein-based computers, running genetic algorithms ever replace humanity, make us their slaves? In the final analysis,does the loss of man make a difference to mankind? Perhaps these are the questions we should answer. by D.Turner THE HARBOUR Work begins at about midnight.Oily-skinned fishermen make their way over the railway line and into the little harbour. They light their gas lights and prepare for the joumey ahead. As always, talk revolved around the route to take and the likelihood of a good catch. Weather is always the determining factor. However, tonight augurs well. The south-easter has subsided and the swell near Cape Point will not be intimidating. With their engines chugging,the ships file out ofthe harbour. Snug in my bed, I stir, awakened by the throbbing of the engines. I strain my ears to pick up the sound of a gale, but all seems to be quiet. Thus comforted, I turn over, and try to catch some sleep in the hour or two before dawn. When the sun lights the eastern horizon,spilling golden hues over the inky black sea, Kalk Bay harbour again changes gear. Looking out of my window, I can see why.With the womenfolk and a curious child gathered, one of the ships is returning! It chugs past the lighthouse and into the waiting harbour. Hatches are opened and fish spewed onto the quay. Bottle tops are nailed into a plank and dragged recklessly over the fish, sending scales flying into the air. Fishwives shout back and forth at their tired husbands, half joking, half insulting, while they clean the fish with hosepipes that spill water recklessly. A toothless grin, "Hello, Maaster! Nice-snoek-for-you-todaayI" Kalk Bay harbour was now happily abuzz. I was so taken by this daily routine, that I had not noticed the rest of the fishing fleet return. A seal surfaced and disappeared with the innards of a freshly gutted fish. Cries of"Look!"from children in push-chairs were lost as dieselfumes wafted in and out,along with the heavy smell of sea salt. The "I&J" trucks were waiting, and the rest had to be quickly sold. I walked along the cobbled road that led to the harbour. There I dangled my foot in the water and stared at the black depths. I could get lost here and no-one would know. Hunger pains reminded me that I had left home without breakfast. Along the narrow road back, I looked into the windows of the shops that lined it. These were filled with second-hand parts, far beyond repair, parts of boats, family hand-me-downs, faded water colours and attempts by aspirant painters to capture the essence of my favourite harbour. In later years,I revisited Kalk Bay.There were different fishermen tending their boats,but they still answered to the same names. Fish were still sought by night and sold by day. The entire community's existence depended on the harbour and tbe harbour depended on them.Without this balance,something special would be missing. I do not want a picture for my study wall, I want to be able to smell the sea salt and snoek in my nostrils, and rest my soul while I dream. byJeremy Nel Form 2 French Department The expected change in syllabus has not yet materialised due to problems beyond French teachers' control. Therefore a Literature paper will still feature in the Matric examination for the forseeable future. However, every effort is being made to make French more accessible to all pupils. It will prove to be an invaluable tool to any business contemplating dealing with other countries in Africa,53% of whom are French speaking. Those pupils who have learnt French will be at a distinct advantage in this kind of situation, as will the companies they work for. The official attitude ofthe present Government towards foreign languages being taught in schools is very favourable and there are a number of committees actively engaged in advising Government on how best to implement its policy towards these foreign languages. Sometime in the future we could be looking at a French course for schools which teaches not only traditional language functions but skill in business French as well. S.M.Griffiths(Head ofDepartment) LA REPETITION Les enfants sont entres dans la salle de classe. La maitresse a dit: -Bonjour. Levez-vous. Aujourd'hui nous allons faire une piece. J'ai besoin de quatre gar9ons pour jouer les roles principals. Pierre a crie: - Moi! Moi! S'il vous plait, madame,moi! Personne n'aimait Pierre. La maitresse a dit: Merci Pierre, mais je voudrais choisir Yves, Jean, Zazou et Olivier. La maitresse a donne les feuilles de papier aux quatre gar9ons et leur a dit d'aller apprendre leurs paroles. Pierre a commence a pleurer mais la maitresse a continue avec la repetition. Dix gar9ons seraient les villageois et dix autres chanteraient.Pierre ne ferait rien parce quil pleurait au piquet. Le soir de la piece est arrive et tous les parents sont arrives a I'ecole. Quand la piece a commence Pierre a marche sur I'estrade et il a donne a Yves un coup de poing sur le nez. Puis il a donne un coup de pied a Jean et parce que personne n'aimait Pierre, tout le monde a commence immediatement a le battre. Les parents souriaient et ils se sont dit: - Une bonne piece, n'est-ce pas? P. Lamplough Form 4 Kearsney Chronicle 1995 45
RkJQdWJsaXNoZXIy MTc3MDU5Nw==