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KIT Volume XXIII No 1 April 2011 -highres 2-05mb

KIT Volume XXIII No 1 April 2011 -highres 2-05mb

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Published by KITexBruderhofCCI
b) High resolution. Apfelsinen-Ferien Hans Zimmermann berichtete in seinen Kindheitserinnerungen kurz über die Apfelsinen-Ferien. Für uns Kinder waren sie immer ein „Happening“. Die älteren Schulkinder eines Hofs mussten eine Woche lang im Wald Apfelsinen ernten, parallel dazu war es Aufgabe der - Schüler eines anderen Hofs, die Früchte zu
b) High resolution. Apfelsinen-Ferien Hans Zimmermann berichtete in seinen Kindheitserinnerungen kurz über die Apfelsinen-Ferien. Für uns Kinder waren sie immer ein „Happening“. Die älteren Schulkinder eines Hofs mussten eine Woche lang im Wald Apfelsinen ernten, parallel dazu war es Aufgabe der - Schüler eines anderen Hofs, die Früchte zu

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Keep In Touch Newsletter
Volume XXIII No 1 April 2011
The KIT Newsletter editorial staff welcomes all suggested contributions for publication in the Newsletter from subscribers and read-ers, but whether a given submission meets the criteria for publication is at the sole discretion of the editors. While priority will begiven to original contributions by people with past Bruderhof connections, any letters, articles, or reports which the editors deem to beof historical or personal interest or to offer new perspectives on issues of particular relevance to the ex-Bruderhof Newsletter reader-ship may be included as well. The editors may suggest to the authors changes to improve their presentation.
Have you made your KIT Newsletter subscription/donation payment this year? Please find details on last page.
Contents
Letters to the Editor 1KIT-Gathering at Friendly Crossways 1
Memories of a Summer‟s Day in Primavera
2Class Trip to the Tapiracuay 3Arab-í 
 – 
My Favorite Horse 4DVD Primavera 1961
 – 
50 Years Ago 5Changes of Addresses 5Obituary for Stanley Vowles, 1918-2010 6
 
Helen and Stan Vowles joined the Quakers in Littlehampton 7Remembering Stan and HelenVowles 7We Have to do Our Bit 8Bulstrode Gathering Saturday, May 7
th
, 2011 9Requiescat in Pace 9The Confrontation Between The Bruderhof And The Ger-man National-Socialist Government 1933 to 1937
 – 
End 10
 
Introduction to Emi-
Margaret Zumpe‟s Song,
 
 Notburg
13
 Notburg
 
 – 
Song by Emi-Margaret Zumpe 15KIT Newsletter Financial Report for the year 2010 14Contact Details for Volunteers producing Keep In Touch 16
 
___________________________________________________
Letters to the Editor
Ullu Keiderling married Ellen Yacht
One correction to Hans Zimmermann‟s memories in the Dece
m-ber KIT Newsletter 2011 (on page 14, left column, third para-graph): Ullu Keiderling married Ellen Yacht, and his olderbrother Roland married Lotte Keiderling.Once again thanks for KIT. August asked me to thank forhim too. He is very appreciative.
Nadine Pleil
Apfelsinen-Ferien
Hans Zimmermann berichtete in seinen Kindheitserinnerungenkurz über die Apfelsinen-Ferien. Für uns Kinder waren sie im-
mer ein Happening“. Die älteren Schulkinder eines Hofs mus
s-ten eine Woche lang im Wald Apfelsinen ernten, parallel dazuwar es Aufgabe der - Schüler eines anderen Hofs, die Früchte zu
KIT-Gathering at FriendlyCrossways, August 12
th
 
 – 
15
th
2011
 By Miriam Holmes
We will meet again at the Youth Hostel, Friendly Crossways inMassachusetts north of Boston.
Date:
Friday, August 12
th,
around noon till Monday, August15
th
in the morning.
Cost per person per day:
(this includes food and lodging)$50 for single/semiprivate rooms,$35 for dorms,$30 for camping,$25 for daytime commuters.Linens can be rented from FC for $ 5.Friendly Crossways requires a deposit by mid May. Pleasesend me $50 by that time to cover that expense by check (madeout to my name and address: Miriam Holmes, 310 Codman HillRd. Apt. DI, Boxborough, MA 01719-1703). Joy MacDonaldwill accept money from European travelers. See her contact de-tails on the last page of the KIT Newsletter.For travel directions please check the FC-website:www.friendlycrossways.comI am hoping that those who are able and so inclined pitch inextra money so we can scholarship those who need help withabove costs.We are looking forward to seeing many of you in August.
Saft zu verarbeiten. Die Apfelsinenpresse war eine Eigenma
r-
ke“
des Bruderhofs. Sechs oder sieben gedrechselte, harte Köpf in Schalen aus Lapacho-Holz wurden mit Strom versorgt. Unterden Pressköpfen waren Eimer aufgestellt, die den Saft auffingen.Die Apfelsinen wurden in großen quadratischen Tanks gewa-schen, von einer Kindergruppe halbiert, und dann in die großeKiste über den Pressköpfen gekippt. Im Wettlauf wurden die Ap-felsinen von der zweiten Kindergruppe ausgepresst. War ein Ei-mer voll mit Saft, war es in der nächsten Station Aufgabe der
Melker“, den Saft durch
Säcke zu sieben. Das Endprodukt wur-de Fritz Pfeiffer und Bertel Sorgius anvertraut, die den Saft steri-lisierten und in Flaschen ein korkten. Das war Erwachsenen-Arbeit, weil der Saft auf 70 Grad erhitzt, zu gefährlich für unsKinder war.Die Flaschen mussten vorher mit einer Flaschenbürste vonHand gereinigt und gespült werden, auch dafür stand eine Truppebereit. Fritz und Bertel haben immer die Flaschen gezählt, die siefür eine Schulgruppe abgefüllt haben. Ibaté hatte immer die Re-kordleistung geschafft. Wir waren das kleinste Dorf unter dendrei Höfen.Unser Arbeitstag in der Apfelsinen-Presse in Isla endete im-mer mit einem Besuch auf dem hohen Sägemehl-Hügel, der sichbeim Sägewerk auftürmte. War das ein Spaß, den Hügel runterzu rollen und wieder hinauf zu tollen. Eine Sägemehl-Schlacht
durfte nicht fehlen. Müde und ausgepowert“ machten wir uns
wieder auf den Heimweg nach Ibaté.
 
Keep In Touch Newsletter 2 Vol. XXIII No 1 April 2011
1993 waren Ludwig und ich nach 32 Jahren das erste Mal wiederin Paraguay. Wir besuchten Freunde in Friesland. Sie erzähltenuns, sie hätten in einem Keller Flaschen mit Saft gefunden, derhabe so gut geschmeckt. Sie wollten von uns wissen wie wir denSaft hergestellt haben. Die Fundstelle konnte also nur in Lomagewesen sein, wo die gefüllten Flaschen gelagert wurden.
Irene Pfeiffer-Fischer
Translation: Orange-Harvest Holidays
In his childhood memories Hans Zimmermann wrote brieflyabout the orange-harvest holidays. For us as children, this was
always an “event.“ The older school children from each Hof had
to spend a week in the woods picking oranges. At the same timeschool children from another Hof had the job of turning the fruitinto juice. The orange press was our own invention. Six or seventurned hardwood knobs were fixed inside wooden lapacho bowlsand electrically powered. Buckets were placed below the pres-sure heads to catch the juice. The oranges were washed in largesquare tanks, and cut in half by one group of school children, andthen tipped into the large box above the pressure heads. The sec-ond group hurried to press the oranges in a race against time. As
soon as a bucket was full of juice, it was taken to the “milkers”
who sieved the juice through muslin sacks. The end product wasthen entrusted to Fritz Pfeiffer and Bertel Sorgius, who sterilizedthe juice and sealed it in corked bottles. That was grown-upwork, because juice heated to 70 degrees, was too risky for uschildren.Before that the bottles had to be cleaned and rinsed by handwith a bottle brush; another group was allocated this task. Fritzand Bertel always counted the bottles they filled for each schoolgroup. Ibaté always achieved the record. We were the smallest of the three Hofs!Our working day at the orange press in Isla always endedwith a visit to the high sawdust mountain that towered above thesaw mill. What fun, rolling down the hill, then trudging up again.A sawdust fight was a must. Tired and spent we made our wayback home to Ibaté.In 1993 Ludwig and I were back in Paraguay for the firsttime after 32 years. We visited friends in Friesland. They told usthat they had found bottles of juice in a cellar; it tasted so good.They wanted us to tell them how we had made the juice. The findcan only have been in Loma, because that is where the full bot-tles were stored.
Irene Pfeiffer-Fischer [translation by Linda Lord Jackson]
Marili’s School Outing to the River Tapiracuay
 
With interest I read Marili Matthäus‟ story about an outing to the
River Tapiracuay in the December KIT. [See also Linda Jack-
son‟s translation
on page 3.]Again and again people have reported to have heard a jaguaror other animal growling or calling during the night while stay-ing at the river Tapiracuay in Primavera. While it was possiblethat on occasion it might have been a jaguar, (I for one cannotsay to have heard one for sure) most of the time it was the heron
 – 
 
 Hoco
[
Grosse Rohrdommel]
.Various people have made reference to this bird being theculprit; Herman Pleil did, as did the author Hans Tolten who haswritten some of the best nature stories about Paraguay. I perso-nally had an experience early one morning when paddling up tothe
Wagenstelle
with Ludwig Fischer, and one of these heronsmade his call from a tree over the river. I do not even know if the jaguar actually engages in howling. May be it is like the Pumawhere only the female cat makes a screeching howl but onlywhen in heat.Guarani mythology talks about the black Anaconda
 Mboy-jagua
 
which waits at the water‟s edge to catch animals including young
calves. It is doubtful that they make a mooing sound, but thisAnaconda is known to inhabit the lower swamps of the Tapira-cuay River as it approaches the Paraguay River.The issue about the buried treasure of Lopez is interestingand based on facts. Local lore has it, it may have been buriedsomewhere on the Primavera property. One hundred fifty yearsago the terrain was much drier and Lopez crossed the swampsand the River Tapiracuay from
25 de Deciembre
 
 – 
Primavera ter-ritory. However people up and down eastern Paraguay say thetreasure is buried where they live. Hans Tolten also writes aboutthe lost treasure. One of the stories makes the most sense andprobably is true: George Thompson who was Lopez Britishmilitary advisor during the war of the Tripple Alianza writes that
Lopez‟s wife Ella Lynch raide
d the national treasury and carriedof numerous boxes filled with gold. These she had buried some-where south-east of Asunción as she was going to meet up withher husband Lopez who was fighting the war in the south. Ma-dam Lynch had all the men shot who buried the treasure. Onceher group reached the main camp, every other person was ex-ecuted for treason leaving her as the sole survivor. With that thelocation was lost forever.The story that the Ibaté school children were digging for thistreasure by the big sand stones at the Tapiracuay was the joke of the day, and supposedly done on the instructions of Heini Ar-nold. Yes, I still remember that hideous hole those children leftbehind. That sand stone is still visible today near the river by the
Taufplatz
.
Hans Zimmermann
Memories of a Summer’s Day in
Primavera
By Susanna Alves
 – 
November 1960
Some raindrops have filled the air with the scent of a blue sum-mer sky. I see myself suddenly again, that certain summer day, inPrimavera.The day was too beautiful! It hurt my soul, my heart, and allmy senses, to see it so beautiful, so clear and pure. The day filledme, I was in the day, was part of it...
The Great Kiskadee, a flycatcher, in Argentina: Bienteveo comun,
 Pitangus sulphuratus
(contributed by Susanna Alves)
I stepped carefully, lightly. The sun played on the leaves of theEucalyptus,
 – 
it was too beautiful, all of this! And then the birds!
 
Keep In Touch Newsletter 3 Vol. XXIII No 1 April 2011
The “Bie
n-te-
veo” was calling his mocking call, when he saw me passing: “Bien
-te-veo! Bien-te-
veo!” he shrieked. There were the
sparrows; the horneros; in the distance a teru-teru called. Iwalked on, along the lonely little path. Nobody was near. I wasalone with beauty.
 – 
 I found my favourite place: The bench underneath a smallEucalyptus. The yellow flowers were still all there
 – 
all smiling
 – 
 all sunny in the sun. Here were the special grass blades. Therewas ano
ther “Bien
-te-
veo”, mocking me.
 Then
 – 
the wind: It brought secrets. It whispered into my
heart: “There is only you – 
you and the little world about you.Nothing else
exists. Nothing else, nothing!” – 
 I stayed there eternally. There it all was: Sun; wind; flowers;scents; grass; trees; birds; sky; clouds; and me.I was a child again. Innocent. I stood before the Creator
 – 
 hand in hand with Creation I stood before Him.And He blessed us...
Class Trip to the Tapiracuay
By Marili Matthäus-Friedemann
I awoke to a mild day, not a breath of wind, but it was a specialday. As the usual early morning sounds reached my ears, my ex-
citement rose. I could hear a loud “piptowi, piptowi“. This black 
-yellow bird had been awake for ages, its call heard everywhere.Also the swelling and receding roar of the Howler Monkeyscould be heard for miles around. Did it
mean rain? No, it can‟t
rain today! Today we are going on a class trip to our beloved Ta-piracuay-River.
 
Breakfast was soon over. The slice of bread spread with drip-ping and some homemade treacle and the cup of Mate were soongone. Two woollen blankets, a change of clothes, wooden san-dals, and an antiquated swimming costume were quicklychucked together and tied into a bundle, and off we went to ren-dezvous by the dining room in Ibaté. The store man
 – 
Hugo Sta-hel at the time
 – 
had packed all the essentials the day before:food, frying pan, cauldron and tin plates. Four adults came alongto supervise. One of them did a head count to check that thefourth and fifth years were all present and correct. The othera
dults packed the children‟s bundles onto the horse and cart.
 Then we were off, all singing the song
Wir wollen zu Land ausfahren, wohl über die Fluren weit 
“.
(We want to travel far
into the country side…). The horse and cart lead the way and we
children trotted along behind it. First our route took us throughthe village of Ibaté, then on to the sundried prairie. In the dis-tance we could see cattle grazing, and we couldn't believe oureyes: there were actually some Ostriches (Ñandús) among them.When they saw us they scampered, wings outstretched. Our un-even route then took us into the jungle where the road was full of potholes. The progress of the horse and cart was now too slowfor us, so we ran on ahead. We were just so excited
 – 
at last wewere experiencing something different from the usual monotonyof everyday life.After travelling for at least one and a half hours, we reachedthe river house in a clearing in the jungle by our beloved Tapi-racuay River. Covered in sweat, the first thing to do was to getour feet into the clear, cool water. Oh, what a relief for the feet!In the meantime, the adults unloaded the horse and cart, andsorted out the house, which consisted of two large bedrooms,each with a wide wooden platform bed (wall to wall, using half the space). One bedroom was for males and one for females. Be-tween the rooms was a wide corridor, in which there was a verylong table with long benches at each side. On a slightly lowerlevel there was a small open space that we used as a kitchen.About 50 metres from the house were the male and femaleboarded in toilet pits.The cauldron over the fire was filled with water so someMate could be brewed for us children in a big old enamel Billycan. The adults drank their Yerba mate out of the Guampa with aBombilla. An hour after arrival we were finally allowed to goswimming, boys and girls separately of course. While the girlswere swimming, the boys were taken for a walk. One of theswimmers took a long rope across to the other side of the river,and attached it to the diving board; it was pulled tight and fixedto the other side of the river as well so now the non-swimmerscould also get across the river by holding on to the rope. Beforethe trip, Hilde Pfeiffer had the brilliant idea to make some floats.She sewed 40cm x 40cm cases out of sugar bag sacking, thenfilled them with corks and attached tapes which were tied aroundour chests. With the help of these swimming aids, most of uslearned to swim on this class trip. We were so proud of our-selves!
This picture of the Tapiracuay River House gives a good impressionof how many people it sheltered during a night. On that occasion ayouth group enjoyed some days at the river side.(Contributed from the Renatus-Klüver-Collection)
Some of us went off looking for flint and were ecstatic if sparksflew when the stones were rubbed together. A flock of macaw-
 parrots (Aras) flew screeching away over our heads. We didn‟t
see these gorgeous big parrots very often. We were summoned toour mid day meal by a gong, there were
 – 
oh so delicious
 – 
pan-cakes. We only ever got them on class trips unfortunately.After we had stuffed ourselves to capacity, some of us girlswanted to prove to the boys that we too could catch fish. Armedwith a machete, we cut a few fishing rods, tied some string tothem, and at the end, fixed a piece of wire shaped into a fishhook. The cork off a bottle was used as a float. Soon the first fishbit, and we quickly landed it. The fish was beheaded with themachete; then we fished for more, until we had a whole pile of fish. These were then prepared for our evening meal. Unfortu-nately the fish were full of bones, so we had to be hellish carefulto avoid swallowing them.As soon as the sun went down, millions of mosquitoes madetheir presence felt. Sitting still was not an option. We made a bigbonfire and threw dry cow pats on to it. They smoked dreadfully,and chased the mosquitoes away. Now we all sat in a circlearound the fire, sang songs and played question and answergames. Right at the end, one of the adults told us the story aboutthe Inn in Spessart. After that it was time to hit the sack on the
hard wooden boards. Each of us created their own little „bed‟
space, shrouded in a mosquito net, and tried to go to sleep. From

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