Etiennette Dupuy (Fennell)

Story

We were a large family of six children living in Paris. After the Second World War, my father, an intellectual without formation, who had seen dreadful things while in the Resistance, thought that the best way to bring up all his children was to leave France. By chance he met an Australian family in Paris. Three young people in that family were studying music at the Paris Conservatoire and were to become prominent musicians in leading orchestras in Australia. At that time they were living in uncomfortable conditions in a Paris hotel. It was decided we would exchange the flat we rented in Paris for a house in Adelaide. (The father of that family had a building business in Adelaide). We left Paris in June 1950. The youngest child in the family was one year old.

My mother was sea-sick all the way but for us Parisian children, our excitement was huge and the journey fantastic: thirty days on a ship down the west coast of Africa and round the Cape of Good Hope. There were many English people on board and since none of us spoke English except my father, we had English lessons which took place in the funnel of the ship!

We arrived at Outer Harbor in Adelaide on a cold and bleak August day and were met by a member of the Australian family who had stayed here to look after her father’s business. We were taken not to the lovely big house which we had seen on photos but to the house next door to it. That house, a two-bedroom house, was far too small for eight people and had no heating, no refrigerator and no washing machine. We had all of these in Paris. Things began very badly, specially for my mother who spoke no English. We had been told the weather was so nice that there was no need for people to light fires except at Christmas, for fun! We had brought no blankets! Some wonderful people across the road had come to see how we were settling and when they found out we had only one blanket each, a dozen blankets was delivered by the St. vincent de Paul Society the next day. My father had a job which consisted in driving to Broken Hill building sites a truck which he loaded and unloaded with bricks. My father had no stomach for such work and he did not stay very long. Life was very hard for him too. He was missing wine and coffee (we could only find Bushell’s coffee essence at the time and red wine was hard to find and expensive). He was also missing the bohemian life in Paris, but he soon found work writing and recording stories about France for the ABC.

We children were thrown into school after a week in the country. It was baptism by fire! However, everyone was extremely nice and we soon made many friends. Most people had never seen a French family. My mother always wore nail polish and us four girls were always dressed in white smocked dresses, when we went out. Yet, we loved the school uniforms and the absolute freedom we found here. I had a teacher who was utterly dedicated and forwent her recesses to teach me some English. I loved playing basketball and munching on oranges at half time. After the war, my mother had had to queue for half an orange per child per week!

We became notorious in Adelaide and represented France at a concert for ‘New Australians” at the Adelaide town Hall in 1951 when we performed a pot pourri of French children’s songs. My father played the piano , my mother conducted and we six children stood in order of size, the last child being restrained by a leash! We were sensational and were presented with eight blue, white and red posies.

My father was right to come here. Here, we were given chances we could not have had in France. We all settled here, were educated, naturalised and married Australians. We all have Australian children and grandchildren.

I have been a teacher all my life. Although I love Australia which has been kind to me, I have always remained in contact with my family in France. I have taken many groups of students on trips to France and have helped them broaden their mind and develop an interest in another country. I was once told by someone that, as a language teacher, I was not productive whereas he, a businessman could clinch deals worth millions of dollars with Japanese people. I asked him in what language he spoke to the Japanese. His answer was: ” In English, of course!” When I asked him who it was that had taught English to his Japanese counterparts, he had no answer!

I have written a book about my life here.

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