Lowdermilk’s niece’s diary entry: Algeria January 7, 1939

And on—days or in a muddle now. Sunday morning, Wester, Billy, Mr. Abry and I went for a long walk down the quay and into the Arab quarter—horribly dirty and smelly, and climbed endless dirty stone steps to the kasbah, which is the highest land in the native city, and was it high! It turned out to be an old fort. The climb up was one reeking with local color, dirty ragged children, and gave a chance for me to peek into the black dismal hovels in which only a tiny fire furnished light or heat to the miserably poor inhabitants. A very great contrast to the beautiful clean modern civic and apartment buildings which rise throughout Algiers and command a picturesque view of the bay below. Of course there was school for Billy and Wester and writing which I did off and on. Wrote a poem for mother’s birthday and on a couple of evenings took walks with Mr. Abry down by the harbor, further up the hill to see the gleaming lights of the city below, and down to the city itself. Uncle had the authority on Mediterranean soils at the hotel for dinner one night—a M. del Villars. Didn’t get much done except some letters. Uncle, Billy and Mr. Abry off for several days inland. (Morocco) off at noon and Aunt Inez, Wester, and I often visit Miss Van Dyne, after we had taken the fox furs to be mounted. Her assistant Miss Whiteley was there and after visiting some moments we went downtown to meet Miss Van Dyne coming out of the post office. All of us shopped around for a while and I got a perfect white-hooded cap of hand woven wool with turquoise and blue silk embroidery on it—also some of the plain light wool yardage. The next noon we had lunch at the student foyer of which Miss Van Dyne is in charge. The girls are all French from different parts of Algeria and are attending the University. After lunch we went down to the docks and watch the ship carrying about 1000 Mohammedans leave for the yearly pilgrimage. It was quite interesting—all the natives out and quite expressionless. They believe that to reach heaven you must say your prayers everyday at 5 different times facing the West; obey the fast (you fast all day and that sun-down start eating and eat all night and then stop); say that there is but one God Allah, his prophet Mohammed; go to Mecca, and there is one more point which I don’t know.

Sunday morning we went to church but were so late we only got in on the sermon and the last hymn. In the afternoon we all went up to Miss Wolfe’s orphanage for tea and dinner. The little children were adorable. The youngest was 2 1/2, smart as a whip and as cute as a trick. She looked like a Dionne Quint. The children just love to run to mama (Miss Wolfe) for kisses and hugs and Auntie and I came in on that score later, too. At bedtime we went into their dormitory, heard them say their prayers (the Lord’s prayer in French) and kissed them good night. These children originally came from poverty-stricken homes, and under the excellent care in the orphanage, have developed a spontaneous happiness. Another afternoon we were driven out to the Mission Beach Villa, right on the sand, with a forest down one way and rocks up the other. It was a lovely afternoon on the porch with fruit for the tea. These missionaries have done everything to make our stay a happy one. We have been loaned tennis rackets and books, they have gone shopping with us, and taken us out, and given us a lovely time.

Wrote all day yesterday in my diary, except for some shopping in the late afternoon. Got some lipstick and embroidered Arabian slippers—white leather with silver.